LIQUOR RAID BY AIR.

Taranaki Daily News, 27 May 1922, Page 8

LIQUOR RAID BY AIR.

BRITISH SCHOONER SEIZED. WHISKY WORTH £600.000 ABOARD. Dramatic and spectacular in a high degree was the first sea raid by the American Prohibition authorities against liquor smugglers on the Southern Atlantic coast. Whisky had been coming north in a veritable flood, and the authorities Began combined land, water and air warfare against this illicit traffic. Eleven seaplanes, painted in battleship grey, and eft'ch mounting a machinegun capable of firing 400 shots a minute. took part in the raid. The prey of this formidable squadron was the British schooner Annabelle, from a West Indian port. She was captured 40 miles south of Miami, near the tip of the Florida Peninsula, with bl ,500 cases of whisky aboard, valued at £600,000; her crew of 21 men being taken into custody. Instructions had been issued from Washington on receipt of certain information there to look out for and “get” the Annabelle.

The seaplanes had been stationed along the coast at Charleston, Jacksonville, St. Augustine, and Miami, and submarine chasers, acting as scouts, wirelessed the whereabouts of the schooner to the commander of the air squadron, who, by means of the radio on his own ’plane, ordered the other units to join him at a designated point at sea.

With languid interest the crew of the Annabelle watched the approach of the first flyer, for seaplanes, both private and public passenger-carrying craft, are common enough in those latitudes, where easy flights are made to Cuba and to British islands that are growing rich because of the anti-drink laws in America. But, trailing their leader like a flock of migrating geese, came the ten other planes. They manoeuvred in circles over the vessel, while the astonished skipper grew more and more uneasy. His worst -fears were confirmed when one seaplane took the water, glided alongside, and put an armed revenue officer aboard, the machine gunner covering the crew with his weapon to discourage any attempt at resistance. “Me resist,” laughed the skipper bitterly in reply to the boarding officer’s warning. “With that there pop-gun poked into old Annabelle’s waistline, and ten others pointing down on her from the ’eavens. No, sir. Not so’s you’d notice it. What dyer want me to do?” “Take her into Jewfish Creek,” ordered the revenue man. And in Jewfish Creek the Annabelle anchored, pending further developments.