Eyes and ears trained on our borders

The guardians of NZ's coasts and fisheries are always on the lookout for the unusual or sinister. CHRIS BARTON went along for the ride.


Charlie rushes to the stern and begins a haka to the plane as it banks in a tight turn around Hawk. Lima 69 likes to sneak up on the "surveillance platform" but he has spotted them first. "It's tradition," he says enigmatically. The Chieftain aircraft makes another circle so the Herald photographer can get a shot. Charlie is happy to oblige with another haka.

Later we hear the haka incident has got back to head office managers who tut tut, worried about what the press will make of it. Actually the press thinks the haka is great and head office ought to relax. But these are people always on watch - on the lookout for anything that is maybe not quite right.

Lima 69 gives Hawk long-range eyes. Its group commander, John Kelly, has spotted a red catamaran anchored at the Hen and Chickens. The islands are closed wildlife sanctuaries so Hawk is off to check for unauthorised landing.

"These are what you might call our typical customers," says Arthur, putting the gyro-balanced binoculars on a yacht motoring out to the heads. There's no name. "Ask them," says Steve. Charlie leans out of the window on the bridge and calls across the water. "Carlotta," he says, grabbing the digital camera to snap a photo.

Andy is busy noting the numbers of fishing boats tied up along the wharf. The details are sent to Fisheries, which checks the boats are in the right place for their quotas.

When we are welcomed by Steve Dix, the skipper, he introduces his Number two, the avuncular Arthur Wild as the PR adviser. Charlie Fowler seems a little subdued when he shakes hands. We learn later he has been told to expect that beautiful blonde reporter from Viva and the Viva lingerie photographer. We two blokes prove a bit of a disappointment.

The team are all Customs officers in the Rapid Response Group and we're on the Customs patrol boat Hawk IV, a 16.5m watching machine bristling with high-tech eyes, a cruising speed of 20 knots and a range of 500 nautical miles.

Members of the group are expected to be away up to 100 days a year - and to go wherever there is a border risk. Sometimes that's a special covert tracking assignment on Hawk or it can be rummaging a ship at port. Next week, the team is on airport operation. Today, it's a fairly standard overt patrol.

Steve enters log details into the laptop - phone calls, incidents and "contacts" with vessels. Much of Hawk's work is patrolling our northern waters during the summer arrival and autumn departure season, when up to 500 offshore boats come and go.

That means checking against the register for "non-compliants" - yachts that haven't reported to Customs on arrival, or those that haven't gone "deep sea" on their way out. The photos go into a database for future reference and to assist identification in search and rescue operations.

We are onboard to sample a new maritime surveillance scheme run by the year-old National Maritime Co-ordination Centre. Staffed by Customs, Fisheries and Defence, the centre co-ordinates and pools patrol resources and intelligence information in conjunction with Police, Conservation, Foreign Affairs and Trade, and Maritime Safety.

Hence the patrolling of Conservation managed island reserves by Custom's Hawk and Lima 69. Kaikohe Police detective sergeant Russell Price is on board to familiarise himself with Hawk for future marine-based operations.

The scheme is described as a "whole of government" approach - PR spin for doing more with less. Customs, for example, has only one patrol boat and charters the Chieftain aircraft. But this way the department has access to Navy vessels and Air Force Orions for patrols as well.

"He's fishing, nothing sinister," says Steve with the binoculars trained on the red catamaran, Outlaw. "Deemed sinister-less," he confirms as we set course for the Poor Knights marine reserve, 22km off the coast. Not much happens on patrol but that doesn't stop the vigil on the radar and the horizon.

Steve picks up a dot. Tarquin A394, a fishing vessel. Logged. There's nothing sinister at the Poor Knights either, where we drift for lunch, but there could be. Drugs, wildlife and people-smuggling are the main threats. Plus illegal fishing, ecological disasters and harm to reserves and endangered species.

Charlie launches Squawk, the inflatable dinghy for an inside look at an enormous cave. Ever alert, Charlie notices something floating at the cave wall so we circle back. By now I'm developing the paranoia of the job - a floating drugs stash, or maybe a body? Seaweed and driftwood. We hug the shore peering into hidden coves. An ex Royal Marine, Charlie came Downunder for a change of lifestyle, married a Kiwi and loves these surroundings.

"It's the best-kept secret - we live in paradise. If I can do my little bit to keep it that way, then that's well and good." Charlie's bit is diving - checking ship hulls, often in waters where you can't see your hand in front of your face, for attachments and other places for hidden drugs.

Hawk's battleship grey camouflage and sleek, low lines make her hard to see, ideal for a surveillance platform. Heading for Whangaruru harbour, Arthur tracks two yachts on the radar. Positions are logged onto the moving chart on the adjacent screen from which vessels' courses can be recorded for evidence.

"Isn't it time for your afternoon nap, Arthur?" says Andy as we come on a small, but full aluminium dinghy fishing in the harbour. "Duty wave," says Steve. Charlie obliges, but it takes two goes to get a response. "I hate it when they do that, they were ignoring me."

The duty wave is Hawk's friendly face, but being seen provides a deterrent, and enforcement has to be seen to be done. Leaving Whangaruru, the weather closes in. Spray and rain slam into the bridge windscreen. Hawk bucks into a 1m swell. Through all this Steve spots another yacht on the horizon. Over the radio we catch the yachts Rigo and Joke making arrangements to share a bottle of wine, then cancelling the rendezvous when the rain hits.

Berthed at the Tutukaka marina for the night, Steve completes his report and emails it to the Centre: 2207 square miles covered and 22 contacts - five fishing boats, 10 sailing vessels, three merchant ships, three motor vessels, and one unidentified radar contact.

The crew are reluctant to talk about previous patrols, and details are sketchy. Having to take a decomposing body off a boat, boarding a drug suspect's boat, with police sharpshooters on deck and bullet-proof vests, tracking at night with lights off and using thermal imaging and night-vision gear.

We're underway by 8am the next day. A launch turns back because of the seas and one of the crew calls out, "You're not going out there are you?" Hawk carries on with a nonchalant wave. At the heads we crash down a 2m swell.

"Ease back on the throttle when you come to waves like that," Andy advises Arthur. Charlie pretends to grab a life jacket.

The good humour vanishes in an instant when the overheating alarm sounds. There's a smell of burning rubber. Steve bolts below and Arthur cuts both engines. Hawk is now rolling wildly and the rocks are getting far too close.

"Start the starboard engine and go back in," yells Steve from the depths of the engine housing. The engine won't start. I'm thinking I can swim to shore, but wonder about being pounded on the rocks. The photographer is about to grab a lifejacket when the engine kicks in.

We limp back to the marina where Steve finds the impeller fins on the port engine are sheared off - the result of a blocked cooling intake.

"Well, that adds a bit of drama," says Steve. "Just what I needed for this story." Everyone laughs, if a little uncertainly. "Be gentle", says Arthur as we leave.

Hawk's patrol day has just become a maintenance day. But as well as repairing and cleaning, the crew will also do "a shadow" of all the boats in the marina. Always on the lookout.

* Email Chris Barton