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    From a distance it appeared that many
more casualties were laid out on the dock area. But as the ketch
drew closer, the putrid stench of decomposing flesh wafting over
the deck made it plain that the casualties on the shore were in
fact corpses, stacked up in piles like firewood. Suddenly all the
children began to cry and Joe told Koko to get them below. Moments
later, a naval launch drew alongside and an angry officer ordered
the Faraway out of the harbor
area.
    Joe steered out from the
shore and sailed toward the lower reaches of Frances Bay, past the
town’s pearling fleet anchorage, to a patch of shallow water close
to the edge of Darwin’s huge mangrove swamps. There Sunday and
Monday lowered the sails. Even before the anchor had taken hold,
all the passengers were anxious to get ashore. Joe called everyone
around him on the aft deck.
    ‘Right, from what we’ve seen, it looks like
the authorities in town have their hands full, so we’ll probably
have to fend for ourselves.’ Joe turned to Dan Rivers and Koko.
‘Captain, you’ll want to get back to your unit right away, and
Koko, you’d better get over to Myilly Point, so I’ll take you two
ashore first.’ He turned to the children. ‘Then I’ll take you lot
ashore a few at a time and we’ll see what can be done about getting
you out of Darwin. If anyone gets lost or separated, come back to
the anchorage here and sing out. Sunday and Monday are staying
aboard to mind the boat.’
    It was dark when the dinghy reached the shore
at the edge of the mangroves. Koko jumped out and took off at a
run, slipping and sliding through the mud, heading for Myilly
Point. When the captain clambered out he hesitated, then turned and
stepped back into knee-deep water and grabbed the dinghy by the
gunwales.
    ‘It’ll be pitch black in a few minutes, Joe.
I think I’d better walk into town with you and those kids. I figure
it’s the least I can do.’
    ‘You’ll make better time on your own,
Captain.’
    ‘I know that, but I’m going to go with you
and the kids.’ The American pushed off the dinghy. ‘Now let’s hurry
it up. I know there’s crocodiles and snakes in these
mangroves.’
    When the last of the children were put
ashore, Sunday rowed the dinghy back to the ketch. Then everyone
struggled through the mangroves to dry land and up to a railway
line on higher ground which ran parallel to the shore. They
followed the tracks in the darkness towards town. Joe led the way,
with the children grouped behind him and Captain Rivers bringing up
the rear. They walked for about half a mile through heavily bombed
scrub to the town railway station. Somehow the railway line itself
had miraculously escaped being hit.
    The station was deserted except for two
military police trucks parked on the platform. As the weary group
straggled in, the headlights of the vehicles on the platform above
them suddenly lit up. The doors swung open and several provosts
jumped out with drawn revolvers.
    ‘Stop right where you are, you lot.’ a loud
voice shouted out.
    Blinded by the glare, everyone stopped dead.
The Aboriginal children clung to each other, frightened out of
their wits. Captain Rivers stood perfectly still holding two of the
smallest youngsters by the hand.
    ‘Who are you?’ The loud voice belonged to a
provost sergeant. He was standing about twenty yards away with his
Luger pointed directly at Joe. ‘Where do you think your going with
those Abos?’
    ‘I’m Joe Brodie, the skipper of the
coastal trader, Faraway .’ Joe
squinted through the glare. Now he could see the provost sergeant
and the gun. ‘Put the bloody gun down. Do I look like a Jap or
something? I’ve brought these children here to be
evacuated.’
    ‘Are you bloody mad?’ the sergeant shouted.
‘Lepers can’t come near anyone. Take them back to Channel Island
where they belong. We know they’ve been sneaking over to the
mainland and setting up camps in the mangroves. I’ll shoot anyone
who takes