DAY OF ADVENTURE

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume 47, Issue 2666, 6 September 1937, Page 7

DAY OF ADVENTURE

CUSTOMS HOODWINKED

GROWTH OF SMUGGLING PRACTICE IN GREAT BRITAIN. The day of adventure in England has not gone by—at least not for the coastguard whose duty it is to stop smuggling, says Captain F. H. Shaw, in the News Chronicle. Smuggling has become, to some extent, a game—much as bootlegging in America —since the advent of Protection . A few years ago it wasn’t worth while the trouble and risk; now it is, since so many small, portable articles are liable to a heavy duty. Quite a number of women engage in contraband work on their own account in the coastwise villages. If they do not actually man the smuggling craft or receive the contraband in person though many do so —they act as lookouts, spies, and decoys.

A well-meaning coastguard patrolling a lonely beat, suspicious of something being “run” in the darkest hours, cannot fail to be switched from his post of duty by a frantic appeal from a woman to follow her to a desolate spot where, she says, tragedy is being enacted. Then she vanishes, and the cargo is landed a mile away. Britain’s coasts lend themselves admirably to the trade; not only the desolate marshes of Essex and Kent; nor the long stretches of sand running northward along the Suffolk and Norfolk coasts as far, indeed, as Northumbria; but also the Devon and Cornish coastline; the Dorset inlets; Hampshire hidey-holes—all are potential ports to the “gentlemen.” Working and watching on moonless nights, the coastguard often risks his life. Cameras of high perfection are profitable cargoes to run; so are binoculars, watches, silks, perfumes, and, especially, spirits. A case of whisky costs a few shillings in Antwerp; it is guaranteed to return at least 400 per cent, on outlay when vended in England—probably more. Immunity of Ships.

There is no power of search by ships outside the regulation limits; a ship under way going up or down Channel is not liable to arrest. She may have cleared from Antwerp, or any other Continental port, with quite a large quantity of contraband aboard. It is easy to procure anything in Antwerp—anything-, as I have seen. There are such things as speedboats, small private yachts, fishing craft, which can make touch with these innocuous craft, and very swiftly effect a transhipment of the dutiable stuff. A saucy yacht departs for a day’s sail; she works out into the mists; heaves-to, obviously to fish. But a rendezvous has been arranged; the dumpy freighter passes close, secret signals are exchanged. When the O.K. is given, small parcels are dropped without the ship so much as stopping; these are collected. Who would think of searching a small sailing yacht that has been out for a day’s fishing ?

The odds are heavily against the revenue officers, few of whom are provided with rapid transport. . The system of working varies a lot, but in essentials it is the same. It needs a confederate aboard a ship leaving a foreign port where articles are cheap and easy to get. Fishing craft are sometimes guilty in this respect; even if they are liable to search after an extended trip, there is conclusive evidence that small boats approach them by night as they near land, asking if they have anything disposable.

Sometimes there is a thrill without danger. I remember a man who took infinite trouble to declare a number of trifles; he pointed out details in different pieces of luggage. These were passed with complacent shrugs. Cleared, my man slung his mackintosh over his arm and walked crisply to the exit of the sheds. He smiled radiantly on all around, whistled a gay tune. The Customs man at the gate said, “Has that mackintosh been searched?” It hadn’t —and there were £2OOO worth of undeclared jewels in his pockets. The smuggler was exultant too soon.