Sunlit Shadow Dance (31 page)

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Authors: Graham Wilson

Tags: #memory loss, #spirit possession, #crocodile attack, #outback australia, #missing girl, #return home, #murder and betrayal, #backpacker travel

BOOK: Sunlit Shadow Dance
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That did it, Vic called
in.
“We are
best placed to respond and flying conditions are still suitable
(just – he muttered under his breath) so clearance requested to
respond.”

Clearance was granted but with
the statement,
“pilot to return to base if conditions deteriorate
further.” Vic blocked out the second part, he had a job to do. He
did a final check of the machine, while the crew checked their
gear. Then they were away.

The wind was at 90 degrees to
their course gusting to over 50 knots as they cleared the port, so
they proceeded with a crab wise angle, but still
maintaining a
hundred knots plus, giving an estimated time to arrival of 45 to 50
minutes. The trawler had lost its engine and was rolling in ten
meter swells, the crew considering abandoning ship to a life raft
as the big waves threatened to overwhelm it without steerage. The
mechanic was working furiously on getting the engine going and now
Vic had the boat on the radio he could talk himself in.

As they were holding a steady
course a massive buffeting
gust pushed them off line and his wind speed
measurement kicked up to over 70 knots. He knew at this point it
was exceeding safe limits for the machine and he should return to
base.

But hell, these people were locals of the
town, his mates had drunk with them, they were in deep trouble. He
could not leave them out there without an engine. So he pushed on,
now the wind was so strong he was down to 90 knots forward, pushing
his arrival time out by an extra five minutes.

Fortunately the machine still felt solid and
stable despite the buffeting as the wind bounced around. Some of
the gusts were now getting close to 100 knots he realized as he
closed on the trawler. Finally they spotted it, a tiny dot between
massive waves.

As he drew level he turned the machine to
face into the wind and, slowing to a hover above it, he saw his
airspeed still read 85 knots. He know attempting a winch rescue in
this was foolhardy and dangerous to helicopter and crew,
particularly the man on the rope. He asked Reg who would be going
down whether he wanted to go ahead. It was really past the limits
of what they could do.

Reg
answered. “These guys are my mates, I
drink at the pub most days with them when they are in port. So you
hold her steady, I will go get them.”

Vic nodded and
looked out towards
the horizon. Barely a kilometer away he saw a massive bracket of at
least three waves. If those hit the boat it would roll over and
that would be the end. He called out to Reg and the winch man,
“Only got a couple minutes with that coming. I will get as low as I
can, that way the down draft will keep you flatter.”

He brought the machine to a bare fifty feet
above the trawler mast and held it as still as possible, the twin
turbines roaring with the strain.

He nodded to Reg; he was down and in a
minute he was up again with the first two, then heading down again
for the final two.

Vic spared glimpse towards the horizon.
The waves were getting real close now, three big ones in a bracket
and then a total monster behind. He knew, in that instant, that the
boat would be unlikely to ride out the first three and if they did
the last one would turn it over and that would be the end of
anything below.

He called out over the
radio,
“Need
to be away in less than thirty seconds, once those waves hit I need
to get up into the sky. I won’t be able to hold steady above them
at this height.”

He could see
Reg on the lurching
deck now, clipping on the harnesses to the other two. The first
wave was almost upon them towering up to the helicopters height. In
ten seconds Vic would have to dial on the power and pull up to keep
clear.

He called out
“Ten seconds
max.”

Now the boat was rolling into
forty five degrees and the man was still fumbling with his
harness.
Vic
called to the winch man, “I am going up, let out against me, they
need a bit longer.”

As the machine responded
to
the power
and came up just above the wave crest he looked below, the boat had
come over the wave and just righted, but was now deep in the water,
as if it had half filled in the roll.

Vic knew the next wave would
finish it
.
It was ever bigger than the first, he needed more height. He
watched it thunder towards them, holding as steady as he could
while the precious seconds ticked by.

Just when he could wait no
longer the call came,
“Up and away.”

He powered into the sky,
pulling three men on the line clear of the wave by what looked like
inches
. Then
they were up to a safe height and the three came fully up. The
trawler was now lying on its side in the water. It was still there
after the third wave passed by.

The fourth wave sound like a
freight train as it thundered through
; even above the engine roar and wind
howl. It seemed to pass bare meters below the machine as it sat
there while the winch man got all the men from below on board and
directed them for home.

Vic held steady for a few more
seconds until the wave had gone
past. Of the trawler no sign remained in
the sea below.

He turned the helicopter
for home and felt
it shoot forward like a stone from catapult with the wind behind
it.

 

 

 

Chapter
36 – Reluctant Hero

 

As Vic came in to land a crowd
was gathered at the helicopter base to welcome them home with
cheers and claps. As he shut the helicopter down he saw Jim heading
his way with a concerned look on his face. It seemed out
of character with
all the well wishers. He wondered what he had done.

Vic
walked over to him and Jim pulled him
away to the side of all the people “Well done young fella. I gather
that was a neat piece of flying to get them out. But other news is
more important right now.


Your wife’s aunt rang about
half an hour ago to say your wife has gone into labor. So I thought
you might want to escape the celebrations and head home. It is not
the best driving weather, but it is better than flying.”

I gather all is fine but
the aunt thought
you would want to be there.”

Vic thanked him and slipped out the back
to his car, unnoticed. The drive was wild, wet and windy. Despite
his anxiety to go fast he kept his speed under control, not wanting
to slide into a ditch.

It took two hours of intense
concentration to reach the local small town hospital where Susan
was wai
ting.
She was pale and drawn. A contraction came as he entered the ward.
As it passed she greeted him with her usual smile, interrupted by
another spasm.

He held her hand and they talked quietly in
between contractions.

The midwife advised that all was
proceeding normally. The baby seemed strong even if three weeks
early and it was just a matter of letting it happen in its own good
time.

Vic had spent little time in
hospitals
;
his only experience was when they operated on a broken leg. Then he
had left early to search for a missing Susan. That seemed a life
time ago and he blessed all that he could think of that she was
here again with him and now it was about their product of their new
life together.

He said a silent prayer for the
day to go well
, but felt an unformed terror of yet another problem
arising, how the unforeseen had a habit of rising up each time
their life seemed comfortable.

He calmed his mind.
This time hospital
seemed like a much better place. The nurses were reassuring, the
doctor quietly competent. It was just him and Susan’s aunt there
with her, her parents were due up in a fortnight to mind the
children for her predicted delivery. They were now on their way and
he welcomed the thought of their quiet competence.

He felt he should be in control and
reassuring but he was scared. Despite having seen it often in
livestock, this birth business was no joke. He found himself more
anxious for Susan and the baby than he was in the middle of a Force
9 gale trying to hold a lurching helicopter steady.

Each time she contracted his
body contracted too
in a fear spasm. It proceeded slowly, contraction following
contraction, becoming more frequent until almost continuous. The
midwife checked and announced she was fully dilated and it would
happen very soon.

They gave her gas to breathe on and told
her to get ready for a final push. Vic held both her hands as her
face contorted and she cried out. His heart was in his mouth. Then
suddenly it was there, the black head pushing out between her legs,
an almost pop as the body slithered through into the waiting
hands.

After a quick wipe and shake to
clear the mucus this little creature was drawing
breaths
. Its
color went from bluish to pink. The nurse wrapped it in a small
blanket and passed it to him to hold. He looked at the unknown
object and saw a little face, perfectly formed eyes and nose, and
his black hair.

In that moment it was no longer
an
object
but a living, breathing person they had made. The emotion of what
they had created almost overwhelmed him. It was the most perfect
day in his life, to have lost this woman and found her again, now
to share the birth of this new human being with her, to hold it, a
joined part of them both. He could feel tears streaming down his
cheeks as he gazed at their baby.

He carried the small bundle
over to his
most beautiful darling and placed it in her arms. She
looked at them both with a radiant smile, then tucked the bundle
and him inside her arms. It felt unbelievably good.

She stayed in hospital for five days, not
that she needed to but the baby was a bit small so they wanted to
see it well settled and feeding before it went home. And the
hospital was hardly busy, just Susan and one other mother in the
maternity ward so there was no rush.

Vic barely left her side
while
other
relatives ferried brother David and sister Anne in to see their
baby brother. Susan announced the next morning that this baby was
named Victor Thomas, or Vic junior for short, she did not ask Vic,
she just said it was what she wanted. Who was he to
disagree?

On the third day the weather cleared, the
storm had blown itself out somewhere across the middle of Europe.
As they ate a leisurely breakfast in the hospital bed the nurse
came in with a newspaper held out.


Didn’t know you were a hero,
did you,” she said with a smirk. There was a photo of Vic, making
his exit from the helicopter on his return to base.

It began
,

 

HELICOPTER PILOT HERO.

But for a remarkable piece of
flying by helicopter pilot Vic Campbell, four men would have lost
their lives when a
fishing trawler foundered in the North Sea in this week’s
huge storm.

Yesterday we told of the
remarkable bravery of the man who went down to winch the four crew
of the trawler to safety. But all those involved say the true
hero
of the
story is the pilot. He brought his helicopter down to wave height
and held it steady as four huge waves came crashing in, holding
position as wave after wave rolled past, first capsizing then
sinking the boat as the sea thundered over it. All the while the
pilot held the helicopter steady allowing the men cling to life and
be lifted out on a flimsy line.

With waves of 50 feet bearing
down and a Force 9 -10 gale only pilot skill allowed the crew to be
winched up to safety. The pilot somehow kept the helicopter bare
feet above the wave tops so the down draft allowed the winch to
operate despite the hundred mile an hour gale. Those who saw it
describe it as the most skillful and courageous flying feat they
have witnessed.

But where is Vic, reluctant
hero. Rumor has it that on this same night his wife gave birth to a
child
. So
Vic drove through this same storm across the highlands to be with
her at the birth. Mother and baby are reported as fine.

I
t is with the heartfelt thanks that all
the people of Aberdeen commend Vic for his skill and bravery and
wish the very best to this new family!

 

Vic winced as he read it, he
should have felt flattered. But now
, as a local hero, all the reporters would
descend on the hospital. It was no secret here who Susan was, the
new mother. In days the story would be out.

H
e was tired of running away. Susan had
done nothing to be ashamed of; he had done nothing to be ashamed
of. He knew it was now far out of his control, but he was not going
to hide from it again. He would hold his head high and if any
reporter came to him saying nasty things about his wife he would
punch him in the mouth like he had the last one. This time, he
would let the story run its course. He hoped it would all end up
OK, but he would not run away. At least this time it was Susan who
was in hospital not him and she was totally and utterly captivated
by the new little Vic.

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