Spectacular cocaine seizure shows us the level that drug gangs operate on

Now, their ill-fated expedition on board the newly-purchased Castlemore trawler is already the stuff of legend.

When it hit a sandbank at around 10pm last Sunday night, it kicked off a spectacular series of events ending in the biggest-ever seizure of cocaine off the Irish coast.

But it was clear to anyone who came across the two in the days leading up to the seizure that they were novices when it came to fishing trawlers. But they were in the market for one.

The Castlemore was on the market for about two years and its sale last week comes at a time when several fishing vessels are being decommissioned as part of a Government scheme.

One source said that boats, like people, come and go regularly in the area. He said up to 50 different nationalities work out of the fishing port, and another two strangers would have been little cause for alert.

Although the 2.2 tonnes of cocaine found on board the suspected mother ship, the MV Matthew, is the biggest ever haul of the drug to have been found in Irish waters, the nuts and bolts of maritime drug-smuggling operations are primarily the same as those which have gone before.

At a press conference on Wednesday, the agencies involved in the dramatic operation to impound the MV Matthew and keep a watch over the embedded Castlemore trawler said they believed a number of organised crime groups had coalesced in the doomed smuggling effort.

As a result, the combined resources of the group led to the use of the MV Matthew and the purchase of so-called daughter ships such as the Castlemore.

While it has not been revealed whether there were other such vessels making a rendezvous with the MV Matthew, it is likely that other drop-offs had already occurred or were scheduled to take place.

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The sheer size of the bulk carrier (28 tonnes) and the fact that there were more than 2.2 tonnes of cocaine on her when boarded by Irish authorities shows just how huge an organisation had been behind the smuggling operation.

Aside from the drugs on board, the cost of such an operation is one which the combined organised
crime gangs are counting this weekend. One naval source said: 

To buy one of those ships, crew it, fuel it … everything... The logistics alone of all that is huge. The fuel bill would be huge.

“Someone is out of a lot of money after this. It had to be registered, got seaworthy. They would be spending months at sea so they would have to know what they are doing.

“They have to be able to maintain it and also, if something happens like a fire or bad weather, you can’t have a fair-weather sailor out there.”

Travelling across the Atlantic over several weeks would have required people who knew the seas and knew ships.

But when it comes to the smaller 'daughter' vessels, crews on board are much less experienced — and more dispensable for those at the top.

And it can be simple mistakes that sometimes prove crucial for law enforcement agencies.

That is what happened when 1.575 tonnes of cocaine ended up in the water in Dunlough Bay in West Cork in July 2007 after a rib carrying the drugs ended up in trouble.

The subsequent court case of three men later convicted for their involvement in the botched smuggling attempt was told: 

Some idiot put diesel into it when he should have put petrol in it and the engine lost its power and ended up on rocks.

The logistics required for such a transnational operation as the one detected this week require long months of work and planning — from tying up with international groupings on the global narcotics scene but also in luring individuals to become involved in the lowly job of bringing the drugs onto land to be distributed across the different markets.

Kingpins to pawn shops: Drug gang hierarchy 

Just like in every company, there is a hierarchy in the drug empires behind operations such as that attempted in the past week.

There are the masterminds at the top — the ones we rarely, if ever, see before the courts when drug smuggling efforts are brought to a crushing halt.

Instead, we usually see those at the very bottom — the ones who tell sad tales of why they became involved, the ones who become the public faces of doomed escapades such as that which ended in Castletownbere in November 2008 when 1.5 tonnes of cocaine was found on board the Dances with Waves vessel.

It later emerged that one of the three crew members of the yacht had just recently pawned his grandfather’s watch because of money worries. He had the receipt on him when arrested. Another crew member had been stacking shelves in a supermarket when he was enlisted in the operation.

A detective told the court in that case that another one of the three crew members was to receive more for his role in the smuggling operation because he was the skipper and had previous boating experience. 

This shows that, even on the lower rungs of the ladder, there is a hierarchy at play even when it comes to those most at risk of getting caught.

Until this week, the Castletownbere seizure in 2008 and the Dunlough Bay episode a year earlier had been the largest shipments of cocaine to be seized in dramatic Irish coastal seizures.

The intervening decade shows just how much bigger such enterprises have now become, with much larger mother vessels and the use of larger boats such as fishing trawlers to act as the daughter vessel.

But ultimately, the preparations would have been the same.

Meticulous preparation — and deceit

The Dunlough Bay case highlighted just how much work is involved in such an enterprise.

For example, when one of the suspects was arrested, he gave gardaí the name of a dead baby from Monaghan. The man, Gerard Hagan from Liverpool, told arresting officers his name was Gerard O’Leary and that his birthday was, ironically, July 2 — the date the drugs were found in Dunlough Bay.

During the subsequent court case, it emerged that the passport was obtained by others involved in the smuggling enterprise and that it was supplied to Hagan through the Irish embassy in Britain in February 2007.

In evidence, a detective sergeant said that a false solicitor’s company was set up by those involved in the enterprise.

When an application was made for a false passport for Gerard Hagan, details of Gerard O’Leary from Monaghan were used and supplied to the Irish embassy.

An address in London, along with a phone number and fax number, for the company were also supplied.

This meant that any checks or verifications which Irish Embassy staff wanted to make could have been made to the number or address supplied.

Hagan had been living in Spain with his partner when he was approached and asked to take part in the smuggling enterprise.

He had been valeting cars before agreeing to travel to the Caribbean to collect the drugs. He was on board the ironically named Lucky Day catamaran which had brought the cocaine cross the Atlantic, with two Lithuanian crew members.

The cocaine in that operation was “coopered” at sea at a point off Mizen Head, from the Lucky Day onto a small rib which later capsized in the waters of Dunlough Bay.

Coopering is the act of transferring cargo from one vessel to another, out at sea, to avoid detection. It allows for the transfer of drugs, often under cover of darkness, to a locally-registered vessel, thus avoiding the suspicion which would be aroused by foreign vessels.

High price of crime

It emerged afterward that the cost of that operation included the purchase of the Lucky Day catamaran in Miami months before the operation, at a cost of €90,000 while three jeeps used by the gang in West Cork cost €50,000 in total.

Travel, including flights for the gang members, cost €20,000, while ribs and equipment for them cost €100,000.

The Lucky Day catamaran was later auctioned off by the State and was purchased by a Donegal woman for €58,000. The bidding had opened at €20,000.

A rib, which had been purchased in South Africa for the enterprise, was badly damaged when it overturned while bringing bales to shore from the Lucky Day. It sold for €2,000.

Another rib owned by the gang involved in that cocaine haul was also sold, attracting €12,000.

Two Land Rovers bought by the drugs gang in England to bring the drugs back to Britain by ferry were sold for €8,500. A third vehicle was sold for €11,000.

These past cases are indicators of just how much detail, organisation, and precision is needed to pull off a multimillion-euro drug smuggling operation.

When the bid is a successful, it is a massive payday for those pulling the strings. But when incidents like the impounding of the MV Matthew occur, money is wasted, loyalties are tested,  and liberty is lost.