There are three Aussie boats on the marina. We have all been incarcerated for a few months and had planned to make a mass escape, however we decided this was too risky and made a decision to go our own ways.
First to go last week were the crew of NB Ferndale - they had help from some outsiders, and were smuggled out in the boot of an Enterprise hire car! They were last heard of in neutral Cornwall.
On Thursday NB Parisien Star got away in a daring escape. Elly had been blogging that Mick had been installing a solid fuel stove - in actual fact he had secretly installed a 1500 HP Cat diesel with a jet drive. They hoodwinked management to filling them with fuel, (they would need a full tank as this baby drank fuel faster than Scotsman could knock back 10 pints of Brewmeister's Armageddon). As soon as the tank was full Mick fired up the mighty Cat and hit forward...... whoosh, before the the dock master had got the Uzi off safety they were in Stone!
Meanwhile, we had two plans on the go ....
1) The dogs had been digging 3 tunnels (Tom, Dick and Harry) but due to the sodden ground they kept caving in, plus they kept trying to hump the Alsatian guard dogs!
2) I had been building a sea plane in the cratch but it was taking too long and probably wouldn't be finished before our release date on 1st March.
So, overnight I scrapped the sea plane and used the metal to build a funnel and 8 x 15 inch guns .... et voila ... Nb Caxton was now a perfect copy of Battleship Bismark! Elaine had loaded the stove with damp wood so we could set off a smoke screen if need be.
Elaine set off on the pretext of taking the dogs for a walk but was actually heading to Aston lock to set it for a quick escape!
The windlass she is waving was actually a converted sub machine gun in case management tried to thwart our plans.
I stealthily crept out of the marina but the throb of the Beta 43 woke up some of the other POWs.
They recognised me straight away, "Tally Ho", they shouted..."God Speed" ...even "You lucky bastard, you're getting away!".
Elaine quickly converted the machine gun back to a windlass and opened the lock.
We had done it - we had escaped, what a feeling! Countryside again, wind in the hair and heaps of mud on the towpath.
As we arrived in Stone the friendly face of Mick prepared the lock for our arrival. We quickly moored up and joined them for a celebratory cuppa. We arranged to meet later in a local pub and go out for dinner, we just hoped we wouldn't be sprung and sent back - the punishment for escaping was 12 months confinement to the marina!
I needed to change some Aussie cash into some local cash, we heard through he grapevine that a member of the resistance worked in the local Barclays bank, he changed the money but gave up a crap exchange rate.
We met in the Swan, straight away Mick nearly gave the game away by shouting, "I'm not drinking that warm Pommie piss" ... the girls quickly defused the situation by quickly adapting to the local accent ..."Calm down, Chuck and have a Fosters". Phew it was a close call!
After a few pints we went to a local restaurant run by some Italian POWs. Very nice it was too.
We then went to to the Titanic pub. Once again, the crowd started to pick up on the Aussie accents, this time it was Mick who diffused the situation by announcing that his old man was a scouser.....the crowd went silent as they all hid their valuables away! Once again, we got away with it!
After a few more pints we skulked off to our respective vessels.
How long can we stay on the run!