The traffic had started moving towards the ship, and the dancing had been abandoned with the intention of returning to the van, when our heroes were stopped short by the authoritative command, "Stop, ve vish to search de vehicle." Three heavies, armed with machine guns, and their commander, were approaching.
"But you've already waved us through!?" our heroes wailed.
A stony silence was the only reply that they got. As the back door of the van was opened, Mick made a final desperate attempt to get rid of the unwanted pests by activating the Lion; but, once again, it was a case of "Ve are not amused".
Our heroes looked on resigned, as the customs men unloaded the carefully packed gear, suspiciously examining the bags of sticks and swords. They closely examined a half eaten chocolate biscuit, carefully replaced in a wrapper by Toddy (keeping it for a rainy day?), sniffing it, prodding it, and passing it to each other before they were convinced of its innocence by the many offers to eat it!
By this time the decision had once again been made, "This is bo-
Eventually the customs men could no longer endure the incessant 'Auf!', 'Stern!', etc., of the N.W. Clog, and let our heroes go. Everything was thrown into the back of the van, all thoughts of orderly packing banished, for the same treatment was bound to be dealt out in England.
Much to everyone's surprise, the boat was still waiting, even though it was 11 p.m., well over half an hour after departure time; and, in fact, the ramp was already being raised as Len raced the van onto the ferry, with everyone else scrambling over as the ship got under way.
Once again a bee line was made for the bar, where an attempt was made to rearrange the furniture, so that everyone could sit in a big friendly circle.