The Dutch Venture

 

 

 40 years ago, a man from the Dutch Antilles drifted silently into Wivenhoe under the cover of darkness. No one noticed his arrival. His name was Fars Linker. He had good reason to leave his distant atlantic home in search of pastures new.

In 1999, this boat, the "Dutch Venture" was auctioned to an anonymous bidder for the staggering sum of £16,000,000. It had been docked as long as anyone could remember in the same spot in Wivenhoe harbour without once setting sail. No one boarded it, no one knew anything about it. Eventually the authorities took matters into their own hands and entered the vessel into auction. It was described in the brief catalogue entry as 'A boat of unknown origin, sold as seen, including all contents'. But no one could examine the contents. The hull was sealed by three gigantic padlocks connected by bulky, rusted chains. There was no key.

The New owner was an elderly gentleman whose face was never completely displayed. He retained some measure of privacy behind impenetrably-mirrored sunglasses, a large-rimmed had and an unshaven face. He spoke to no one as he made his way from the Auction processing office to Wivenhoe harbour. No one followed him but many eyes tracked his progress.

As he approached, and boarded the "Venture", this mysterious gentleman almost imperceptibly slipped his left hand into his trouser pocket and removed it, now apparently wrapped around some small object. Still, hidden eyes peered from behind curtained windows. Now he knelt down. Only the top of his hat was visble. Wivenhoe was now unusually silent. Only the tiniest clink of metal cut through the stillness. Twice more, the enigmatic owner rose to his full height, moved a few paces, and dropped down below sight. Each further clink of metal instantly reverberated over every stilled surface in Wivenhoe, stone and flesh. Now the man disappeared completely from view. No more than ten seconds later, an ear-piercing screech of Iron against stone shattered the silence. Curtains all accross Wivenhoe harbour flew open, no longer interested in concealing hidden watchers. All accross the harbour people now openly stared as Fars Linker emerged from the hull onto the deck, as the boat steadily cut through the gentle waves. He turned to face the dwindling shoreline. He removed his hat, then his glasses and stood watching, a small grin turning up the corners of his closed mouth. An hour later he was gone, the same way he had arrived. Where to? who can say. His secrets are now safe, somewhere in the Atlantic ocean, hidden in the dark, brooding hull of the Dutch Venture.