Coasts of Cape York by Christopher Cummings Page B

aircraft was hammering along rapidly over the smaller waves. Willy began to will Mr Southall to pull back, to try to take off. ‘Do it! Do it now!’ he thought, gripping Marjorie tightly.
    He noted that the spray was now coming from underneath in a solid curving wave. That told him that the ‘Catalina’ had ridden up on its chine and was now aquaplaning on its ‘First Step’, the cut-away section of the hull. Clenching his teeth and staring anxiously out Willy saw that the starboard float was now almost over the breaking waves which marked the edge of the coral reef. He even got glimpses of dark objects in the white foam. ‘They are lumps of coral,’ he thought. ‘If the float hits one of them we will rip a wing off!’
    Suddenly the nose went up and the tail dipped so fast that the narrow fuselage under Willy kissed the waves, sending up more spray. The water was so close that Willy let out a gasp of pure fright. But before his scared mind could articulate thoughts about crashing the waves suddenly dropped away and he felt the zooming, soaring sensation of a take-off.
    â€˜We are off!’ he thought as he saw the churning sea drop rapidly below. Mr Southall held the angle of attack as steep as he dared for a few seconds to ensure that they were well clear of the biggest waves. Then he levelled out in a way that sent Willy’s stomach up into his chest. The ‘Catalina’ settled, bumped, then resumed rising.
    â€˜Safe!’ thought Willy as the view opened up and he was able to see right across the reef and out to the far horizon. Only then did he realize he was gripping the seat and Marjorie so tightly that his knuckles were white and hurting.
    Hoping that nobody had noticed Willy released his grip and gave a quiet sigh of relief. The ‘Catalina’ went into a wide, sweeping bank to starboard and then continued to climb. As it did Willy noted the distant coastline and a group of large islands ahead. The huge curve in the coast he recognized as the shore of Princess Charlotte Bay.
    â€œWe are going south,” he said to Marjorie.
    She gave him an anxious smile and nodded. “We are alright now aren’t we?” she replied.
    Willy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and then shook his head as Cadet Bull, who sat opposite, called back, “Unless a wing comes off.”
    As the aircraft settled into a steady climb Flying Officer Turnbull made his way aft, checking on each cadet in turn. Satisfied that no-one was hurt he said, “We are heading back to Cairns.”
    â€œSo we aren’t going to Thursday Island Sir?” Stick asked.
    Flying Officer Turnbull shook his head. “Sorry. We need to get this fellow to hospital and there’s a body to hand over to the police.”
    â€œSo he really was shot sir?” CUO Mathieson asked.
    That caused Willy to experience a sickening flashback to the torn corpse and he almost vomited again, except that his stomach was empty and felt very sore. He also felt a twinge of regret. Thursday Island was a place he had never been to and wanted to visit. It had an aura of mystique about it, one of those legendary places that are far away and exotic.
    To distract himself from his horrible thoughts Willy looked down. Just below him were a group of large rocky islands which he remembered were the Flinders Group. To help take his mind off death and horror he tried to remember the names of the islands but he had left his chart in the wardroom and knew it would not be wise to try to retrieve it at that moment.
    A few minutes later the aircraft flew across the coast in Bathurst Bay and all Willy could see below were vast tracts of bush and rough hills. These seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see before they were lost in the haze. Only a couple of tiny, wriggly scars indicated the route of dirt roads. There were no farms, no fields and no other signs of civilization for quite some time.
    Later they flew