Two nights passed with everyone perched high up on the container ship. Life was a little rugged and somewhat boring, at night it was like sleeping in a large metal drum, with all kinds of banging noises occurring for seemingly no reason. They had by now travelled down the east coast of Malaysia passing close to Singapore, headed further south following the east coast of Indonesia’s Sumatra Island, passing close to Jakarta they entering the Sunda Strait and commenced to travel east along the southern side of Java Island.
 
On the morning of the third day while approaching the eastern tip of Java Island the container ship was slowed almost stopping. Using the ships cranes the ‘wench mobile’ was picked up and lowered over the side, where the engines were started allowing them to set off under their own power; pulling ahead of the container ship while navigating directly towards Denpasar on Indonesia’s Bali Island. When the Island came into view they steered north to close on the coastline more rapidly, while passing Tanahlot they were able to pick up a signal on the mobile phones. Mrs Ferret made a call, contacting Ferret conveying the message to meet in two hours as arranged. Ferret eagerly agreed quickly explaining how he was becoming rather home sick. Mrs Ferret added they would be easy to find, look for the boat everyone will be drooling over as we approach; she offered a kiss and hung up.
 
The ‘wench mobile’ reduced speed so there would be no waiting at the pickup location, they steered south towards Uluwatu before making there way eastwards around the southern tip of Bali Island. Turning north they cruised past Husa Dua before turning west and entering Benoa harbour. They slowed to ten knots in order to comply with maritime regulations and continued up the harbour to the tourist wharf behind Kuta beach. As they approached the wharf, Ferret and another person could be seen rather nervously standing alone, away from the other tourist on one end of the wharf. The captain cut power allowing the ‘wench mobile’ to slowly glide up to the wharf right in front of Ferret before giving a quick burst of reverse to stop them completely. Without mooring to the wharf they quickly lowered the gangplank just long enough for Ferret and his companion to come aboard before inching away from the wharf using the bow thrusters then setting a coarse back down the harbour and out to sea, where they heading south by south east at a calculated speed to intersect with the container ship.
 
Before they lost the phone signal Slit sent a prewritten text message saying, “Picked up third packages, both in good order. All’s Cool.” Sure enough the ship quickly appeared to there right on a collision course, as planned. The cranes were again used to sit the ‘wench mobile’ back on her cradle, to resume the trip east; all just in time for a delightful lunch.
 
All were back on board before they had time to chat properly. Over lunch the lady, travelling with Ferret was revealed as Megan Savage, Brett Savage’s sister, who had been in Dempasar prison for just on three years of a forty-year stretch. Boss had sent Ferret to break her out a few days earlier.
 
It seems Ferret had entered the prison by cutting the bars on the large monsoon drain running under the wall. He used the latest sodium-metal ‘cotton’ explosive tape to quite literally slice through the bars in a quick and rather uneventful explosive action. Once in the drain he did the same to breach the bars on a storm water drain under the exercise yard. He then set fire to an appropriate cellblock, burning it down. This forced the authorities to release the prisoners into the exercise yard to save their lives, and allow any chance of stopping the fire spreading or putting it out. In the confusion Ferret simply walked around the exercise yard invited everyone having a reason to leave to do so using the drain. He took personal charge of Megan walking her out before ushering her away from the complex. This he had achieved early yesterday morning, since then Megan had been holding up, out of sight in Ferrets hotel room waiting for the pick-up. Ferret expressed his appreciation of us arriving a day early, as he was getting low on beer and Megan was tiring of living on peanuts and hiding in the top of the wardrobe while the room was cleaned.
 
Slit was able to start a conversation with Megan asking her how she would like to travel home to the USA. Three choices were offered; take the fast route and fly home on her own leaving tomorrow, stay with the container ship all the way, the slow route; or come with them and be home around the same time as the ship in about eight or ten days; the scenic route.
 
Megan didn’t need any time to decide she figured she was due for the scenic route whatever it may be, adding that she felt safe staying close to them as they had looked after her very well to date. Megan asked Slit why they had troubled to rescue her? To which Slit simply replied, they heard she had received a roar deal and as they were in the area doing some business they decided to put things right. Megan opened up explaining how her ‘shithead’ of a brother had set her up putting his drugs in her bag without her knowledge. When Slit explained her brother was now in jail in Thailand, having been caught a few days ago carrying drugs. Megan replied, “Good I hope they shoot him,” and added that he must have crossed someone who set him up, as there is no way he would carry his own drugs, the ‘shit’ always uses other people. Megan also added if she ever finds out who set him up she would go down on them to say thankyou, and for the sake of humanity.
 
With the arrangement now set Ferret pulled out two Australian passports and travel documents showing all he was now Thomas Cross, and handed over the other to Megan identifying her as Robyn Feather. Megan was quite beside herself and impressed with how Ferret operated. She had imagined being seeled in a drum with live eels, or something, to get through customs. Walking onto a luxury launch had not entered her mind, nor had becoming someone else to walk around free; she did wonder how they arranged these things but thought better then to ask.
 
The only one to have her nose out of joint was Mrs Ferret, she made some comments about how sick Boss and Digit were when she realised they had given Ferret and her identities making them brother and sister for the trip home. She thought about throwing Ferret out of the master bedroom over it, but decided it wasn’t Ferrets fault so let him move in but threatened everyone with physical harm if she heard any incest ‘jokes’.
 
Megan was given the vacant double room, identical to Slit’s, to settle into and a complete set of clothes from Slit’s wardrobe. They didn’t fit perfectly but what the hell, she didn’t own one thing in this world other than her freedom, and that would be enough for today. She was wearing a pair of old jeans, a tee shirt, and hiking boots, loaned to her by ferret when they picked her up.
 
Ferret had bigger problems as he had only two sets of clothes both dirty; the jeans, tee shirt and hiking boots he was wearing plus the ones Megan had worn. For anything else he would need to turn to Bang. Borrowing from Bang would never suit the wench’s room; being her sister and wearing Bang’s clothes would certainly result in a very quick trip to the crew quarters. Mrs Ferret fixed everything when she dressed Ferret in a bathrobe for the afternoon and got the steward to wash his clothes and for good measure she also made Bang wear a bathrobe while the steward washed everything he owned including his kit bag.
 
With lunch out of the way, Megan was invited to sit out on the aft deck basking in her newly found happiness while Mrs Ferret provided her with new nails and a quality manicure before giving her hair the treatment with a cut and some streaking with a stylist wave. She also applied lashings of expensive skin moisturiser just about all over her body.
 
Megan was clearly impressed at receiving her first taste of feminine pampering in almost four years. She confided to Mrs Ferret that she hadn’t been able to wear underwear for the last two years nor was she was even able to access sanitary napkins, as those things were considered luxury items in prison, needing to be privately purchased and without access to any money she went without, as her lousy brother walked off ignoring her.
 
Eventually Bang and Ferret were able to find some dry clothes allowing Bang to take Ferret for a ‘look see’ at the eighteen thousand horsepower, flat eight, sixteen piston, twin crankshaft, two stroke diesel, powering the container ship along, at twenty two knots while getting three gallons to the mile, at three hundred revs. They both returned suffering some kind of love flushes with Bang overjoyed to finally have someone sensible around him with whom he could exchange intimate statistics. Without stopping for breath they went straight below to ‘cuddle’ the silently sleeping twin eighteen hundred horsepower, Yanmar, vee twelve, quad turbo, diesels capable of allow the ‘wench mobile’ to cruise fifteen hundred miles at forty knots. They eventually returned to settle at the dinning table for the afternoon and commenced to exchange old war stories over a bottle of Tennessee whiskey each and numerous cans of beer. Eventually Mrs ferret ejected them from the room to allow the steward to prepare for dinner.
 
Dinner was delightful, especially for Megan who announced it was the first time in her life she had eaten shrimp, they were clearly to her liking along with the rest of the Thai styled Asian servings. The evening coffee, heated cognac and chocolate, served on deck was again quite a treat for the ladies, something new for Megan and eagerly anticipated by Slit and Mrs Ferret who were obviously developing bourgeois tendencies after only a few days on their new boat. During the girl talk that ensued on deck Megan rather cautiously expressed a liking for the lifestyle they lived making some general enquiries about staying with them if a vacancy was available. In fact she was so taken by them she even made discreet little flirtatious inquiries about Bang and any relationship he may be involved in. This was something of a source of amusement to Slit and Mrs Ferret who both followed the same line of thought and remarked about what happens to people locked up for long periods, before explaining he was ripe to be picked by anyone who was prepared to climb the tree to coach him down.
 
Bang and Ferret kept to themselves downstairs, secretly dreaming of a good greasy, colostral riddled steak covered in sauce. Ferret watched Bang finish off a few more beers but didn’t touch another drop himself, knowing full well the wench was quite serious about prohibiting drunken bums with a beer smelling breath from entering her bedroom. Nothing could coach him to drink, not even Bangs slurred finger waving insistence that he was selling out to the enemy and betraying his ‘kind’.
 
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Overnight the container ship continued east, and by morning had passed along the southern coast of Sumbowa, south of Timor and cautiously negotiated the oil and gas platforms doted throughout the Timor Sea.
 
Slit was again first to rise, although to her surprise she had Megan join her shortly after commencing to workout on deck. It seems Megan is a person after her own heart, early to rise and likes to start the day with some healthy exercise. After an hour they both disappeared to freshen-up before sitting down to a breakfast of juice, a freshly baked Danish still warm from the oven and a brewed coffee.
 
Megan again squeezed into some smalls, jeans, a tee shirt and sneakers loaned to her by Slit, who explained how later today Mrs Ferret planned to take her shopping, like only Mrs Ferret could. So Megan could acquire some clothes of her own that fit comfortably. Slit dressed the same before packing her bag ready to move just in time for them both to sit on the desk taking in the sea air and watch the crew attach the cranes to the ‘wench mobile’ in anticipation of putting her over the side.
 
The Ferrets emerged all smiles also wearing jeans and tee shirt, with the bag packed ready to go, and settled in to a healthy breakfast; although it was obvious, Ferret was eating as he had been instructed.
 
By now, the ‘wench mobile’ was moving under her own power, pulling ahead of the container ship. After more then a few minutes waiting for Bang to notice the different sounds, it was decided to extract him from his slumber manually and impose getting him ready for the day. For a laugh Slit asked Megan if she wanted to go wake Bang and supervise the scrubbing process. Slit advised how she believed the best way to wake him would be, “Grab the gonads firmly and with a single focus take them directly to the shower, he will follow in stunned silence with few complaints.” Slit asked Megan to make sure she was no more then an hour, and try to have him presentable enough to go through customs without raising any eyebrows, she added that cleaning him up included packing his kit bag. Megan being a good sport gleefully offered to fetch him, declining Mrs Ferret’s advice to take a cattle prod and a big stick with her. Sure enough, within the hour Megan had a rather satisfied and presentable looking Bang packed and sitting at the breakfast table drinking black coffee, for medicinal purposes.
 
With everyone together, Slit made a small speech to straighten out the story ready for a customs visit as the ‘wench mobile’ slowed to enter Darwin Harbour. “Remember we are all Australian citizens coming home, no one will give a toss about our accents as half the population of Australia was born overseas. We all live in the same condo block, at two forty three Grace Street, Padstow; that’s in Sydney’s southern suburbs; your individual unit number is in each passport, remember them. We all went to Singapore together on a four-night package deal, flying Singapore Airlines. Two nights ago, the evening before our return trip Megan, sorry Robyn and myself, I’m Maree, both met the crew of this boat in the Rav nightclub and they offered to drop us off in Darwin, we accepted the ride. We have sailed here under our own power and haven’t seen land anywhere or been near any other ships. I know that sounds like crap but it’s so out there they are sure to believe us, besides our passports are all stamped out of Australia and in and out of Singapore to prove we are telling the truth. We are all going to arrange to get back to Sydney from here today. We don’t yet know how, we are hoping to meet up with an old truckie friend of Bang’s, make that Peter, in Darwin. If they ask any other questions look dumb while someone else distracts them. Have your passports in your pocket when they come onboard don’t encourage them by opening anything, unless they ask.”
 
It wasn’t long before they were met by the customs launch and guided past Darwin’s main wharfs around towards Francis Bay where the local fishing fleet operate. The ‘wench mobile’ was escorted there so she could quickly take on fuel and stores readying herself for the next leg of her journey to the USA. The customs officers believed the ‘we hitched a ride’ story. One even said, “Half your luck, I wish I could find some rich friends to take me cruising.”
 
Everyone was given a lovely big welcome home stamp in their passport, some best wishes and allowed to walk down the gangway without so much as a second glance. Megan was quite impressed; beside herself at being a legal person free to do, go and say as she pleased, she made a point of giving everyone a big ‘welcome back on dry land’ hug.
 
The ‘wench mobile’ also quickly received the OK from the customs officers, who stayed onboard to supervise her isolation while in port. They all settled on the deck lounge to be treated with fresh coffee and pastries while waited for the provisions to be loaded before releasing her back to sea.
 
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Slit made a quick phone call, as they walked along the wharf but it was a wasted effort as she heard Matches answer his phone just ahead of them near the marina entrance. He had calculated their time of arrival to perfection and watched them come into port before following around the shore to Francis Bay. He exchanged greetings and invited them to all pile in his truck. Five passengers in the Kenworth T2000 prime mover wasn’t the squeeze it appeared, as four were accommodated comfortably in the Aerocab sleeper compartment seated along the sofa with the fifth in the front passenger seat beside Matches. Mrs Ferret had Matches drop Megan and herself off at Casuarina Square, telling Ferret to pick them up in two hours, adding if he sat around drinking and was late she would make him pay, big time.
 
Matches drove south along the Stuart Highway for twenty kilometres to the limit of Darwin, stopping behind Noonamah roadhouse in the road-trains assemble area. He found his trailer and hooked up before opening the side and with everyone’s help unloaded three of the four Harley Davidson motorcycles he had in the back. One, a conversional two wheel cycle and two immaculate trikes, one having a dual rear seat and the other a single rear seat with both having lots of storage space and all the modern conditions, the three seater even having a conveniently located bar fridge, for the rear passengers to access on the move. They left another conventional two-wheeler on the truck. Matches started unloading a few biking accessories, crash helmets, gloves, boots, etc. He handed out everyone’s Gipsy Wanderer colours, including a ‘wench in training’ jacket for Megan, plus tents, sleeping bags and what-knots for camping, allowing everyone to set-up the bikes to impress themselves with a serious touring feel.
 
Matches explained the ground rules for the trip saying, “This is the last semi-civilised place on earth with no speed limit. You can ride as fast as you like outside the towns and no one will give a toss. We have fifteen hundred kilometres of full throttle in front of us all the way to Alice Springs. The trucks on the Stuart Highway are something else; they will normally be towing three trailers, and are quite a challenge to overtake, being a few hundred feet long. However, the real problem is if you go slowly these sixty-two wheelers will overtake you and that at will scare the living be-Jesus out of you, so keep the speed up if you want an uncomplicated life.  Oh, and stay out of the rivers no matter how hot you feel, the crocodiles around here are everywhere and they are all as mean as hell. You won’t need a map, just follow the road. There is only one, this is the top-end everything else is down that way. When Ferrets wench gets through shopping we are out of here. We need to make Alice Springs by tomorrow night. If we get going by mid-day we can make Mataranka to camp the night, it’s about four hundred kilometres and has the greatest swimming hole on earth, with no crocs.”
 
Each took a bike over to the adjoining roadhouse and filled up with fuel. Slit had taken an instant liking to the trike with the single rear seat, Ferret had to take the three seater trike so he could fetch the wench and Megan. Bang was a happy camper, riding a real bike, and Matches had his semi-trailer to play in; so everyone was happy with the transport arrangements.
 
Bang and Matches decided to set off down the road to Adelaide River, about eighty kilometres away. Matches had told Bang they were likely to see huge crocodiles, as people made a habit of throwing food in the water to entertain the tourists. The bigger crocs quite literally jump out of the water to eat first; Bang wanted to see them, Slit decided to go too. Ferret set off to the shops to wait for the wench and Megan and see if he could hurry them up, having agreed to meet up with everyone at Mataranka in the evening if not before.
 
Ferret had no trouble finding Megan and the wench; he looked for two piles of shopping bags with legs. He was welcomed gleefully and immediately used as a ‘pack-horse’ to transfer parcels to the trike thus freeing hands to allow procurement to continue more efficiently. Eventually, with nothing more available that could be purchased, they all treated themselves to a kebab and coffee as an early lunch before hitting the road.
 
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By chance everyone found each other at the Mataranka roadhouse purchasing fuel and supplies for the night. They all headed to the edge of town and set up a campsite, before taking to the hot springs for a refreshing evening dip. Dinner was self-help, fresh Barramundi cooked to perfection on the barbecue, with a side serve of rabbit food and a few cold beers to help the discussion along.
 
Everyone retired at a reasonable hour and amazingly sober, having taking Matches advice that tomorrows thousand plus kilometres to Alice Springs would require an early start. He explained how they needed to get together tomorrow evening with the rest of the crew for a few practice runs before the big event. It seems Matches had entered them in the Henley on Todd Regatta, ‘Head of the River, Eights’ the day after tomorrow, as a favour to some truckie friends who were down on numbers. This caused some concern, as no one knew how to row or had even sat in a racing skull, but Matches insisted all would be OK after the practice runs, adding, “No one was going to finish up a complete fool.”
 
At first light all set off together, Megan rode with Slit to lighten the load for the Ferrets. They put in a few hundred kilometres before stopping at Daily Waters roadhouse for fuel and breakfast. The place was a guys’ heaven with a carnivore menu and mammoth portions. Matches, Bang and Ferret went for the mixed grill and coffee while Megan, Mrs ferret and Slit were left to negotiate a non-greasy breakfast, eventually having the waitress say, “Most of the women have sausages, eggs and tomato or a plate of chips. I guess I could ask the cook if he will knock you ‘loves’ up some scrambled egg on toast.” They settled for that not because they wanted it, but rather to stop Slit hearing the waitress talk further, she was only inches from being slicing up.
 
Back on the road they continued south non-stop some three and a half hours before arriving at Wauchope where they stopped for fuel and lunch at the roadhouse. Matches, Bang and Ferret went for the mixed grill and coffee, with Megan, Mrs ferret and Slit negotiate a non-greasy lunch, the waitress said, “Most of the lady folk have sausages, eggs and tomato or a plate of chips. I guess I could ask the cook if he will knock you, ‘dears’ up some scrambled egg on toast.” Mrs Ferret and Megan settled for the sausages, eggs and tomato but Slit refused, going across the road to the pub where she was offered the usual seven-course meal, consisting of a six beers and a pie. She stormed out wondering if everyone in this country was some kind of sexist sick’o. Slit’s lunch finished up being a cherry ripe and a diet-pepsi.
 
Setting off again they completed the journey to Alice Springs after a further three hours on the road. They set up camp and cleaned up before heading off to the pub to meet Matches mates. There was very little practice going on, save for drinking which everyone was already good at. Mrs Ferret was first to ask about the rowing, she got laughed at, and told, “You won’t need practice, come tomorrow just lift your shirt and run like crazy.”
 
Prompting Mrs Ferret to reply, “Matches, if this is some sick guy thing; if you have us all down for playing wench games, I will personally do permanent damage to everyone who comes within forty feet of us, and as for you Ferret, if you have anything to do with this you won’t ever recover from your injuries, so you had better start backing away from this right now.”
 
All the guys tried to re-assured Mr Ferret they were on the level about the boat race. It was decided to have a counter lunch for dinner at the pub; the guys went for a mixed grill.  Mrs Ferret, Megan and Slit silently got up and walked out when the barmaid started to say, “Most of the lady folk have sausages, eggs and tomato or a plate of chips. I guess I could ask the cook if he will knock you, ‘girls’ up some scrambled egg on toast.”
 
The girls walked along the street and were exasperated to find the whole town, except for the hotels asleep for the night at seven-thirty. They eventually stopped a young couple walking past, who were obviously on their way home from work, asking where they might find something to eat and were told if they wanted to sit down the best place, at this hour would be Lasseters. Making further inquiries they established Lasseters was the local casino just, across the river. They were also warned Lasseters required everyone to dress up but would be worth the effort as the place was quite special for those prepared to pay. The couple confessed they both worked there and promising no one would expect the ladies to eat sausages, eggs and tomato. This was all the encouragement the girls needed. Mrs Ferret barged back into the pub, demanding Ferret hand over the keys to the three-seater trike. Ferret was told not to wait up as finding something good to eat might take all night, they would be back tomorrow morning in time for the big race.
 
Back at the camp sight the girls picked up their luggage and piled on the trike heading off to find Barrett Drive, across the river. For good measure they checked-in to Lasseters for two nights, taking the presidential suite as they noticed in the foyer it was available free of charge to anyone prepared to purchase one hundred thousand dollars worth of gaming chips and Slit thought, “why not,” her credit card was good for it and what else is there to do in a town that shuts down at sunset.
 
All hit the showers, found their best finery, dressing to kill before parading through the casino floor past the din coming from the rows of well-patronised slot machines and occasional Roulette and Blackjack tables, before locating the Samphire Restaurant and indulging themselves in a quality, if not a little pretensions evening meal.
 
It was almost eleven pm when the girls walked into the ‘private’ gambling suite reserved for high rollers. Slit immediately raised the stakes giving Megan and Mrs Ferret one hundred thousand worth of chips each to invest, this didn’t phase Mrs Ferret at all, she smiled reaching into her purse to retrieve tinted glasses and turned cat like as she commenced to study the card fall on several blackjack tables, carefully choosing her quarry. Megan felt quite ill at the thought of having so much money to squander and asked Slit if she might be able to watch her play and learn. Slit thought the idea was sound, and also commenced to hone in on the blackjack tables, from a distance, while quietly explaining what was going to fall next and who she felt was on a role. In four hours and with the tables closing, the girls returned a considerably more bulky pile of chips to the cashier, an additional four hundred and eight six thousand dollars went on the account, ready for tomorrow’s rematch.
 
Sleeping was easy in the presidential suite, before retiring the girls booked an eat-in breakfast for nine am, to help them remember to rise in time for the races. They found time to relax in their pyjamas, exchanging several chuckles over a chardonnay, while contemplating a cold desert evening in a tent on a lumpy bed of hard ground, the cost of being a mixed grill consumer in a cruel, hash world.


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