MY NIGHT UP CROC CREEK

Crabber climbed tree during 19-hour ordeal

BRIAN Duncan emerged from the mangroves caked in mud, bone-tired and desperate to knock the froth off a beer.

Most importantly, and contrary to mounting fears, he was entirely unscathed by the bitter jaws of any death-gripping reptile.

“The tide beat me,” he explained. “The tide was coming in when I was walking back, and I’m not going to walk through water that deep, not when it’s starting to get dark.

“So I went up a tree and spent the night.”

Concerted aerial and waterbased search parties set off yesterday after the 61-year-old metalworker failed to return from setting crab pots in Chinaman Creek the previous night. The situation seemed dire. Mr Duncan (right) had knocked off from his job at CSF Steel Fabricators and carried out an enduring and generally snagfree ritual.

He called his wife, told her he would be home for dinner after he set the traps, and trundled off into the mangroves behind work. Then silence.

Chinaman Creek is a wellknown crocodile habitat: swampy, saltwater and skirted by thick mangroves.

It made headlines earlier this year when a man was charged for allegedly using a wallaby carcass and a hook in a failed effort to catch a four-metre-plus crocodile sniffing around near suburban White Rock.

The keen fisherman had not brought his phone with him, and friends, family and co-workers feared he had succumbed to the problem croc.

THE TIDE BEAT ME... AND I'M NOT GOING TO WALK THROUGH WATER THAT DEEP, NOT WHEN IT’S STARTING TO GET DARK BRIAN DUNCAN

Mr Duncan’s son and workmates set off on a nocturnal search effort on Wednesday night, but to no avail.

Police and the SES launched their own hunt in the morning, fearing it could soon become a recovery campaign.

About 19 hours after his disappearance, Mr Duncan was finally rediscovered – in high spirits, despite the ordeal.

He had kept out of any crocodile’s reach up a tree all night, but he was still at the mercy of the mangrove midge swarms.

By the time the sun rose again, so did the tide, and Mr Duncan opted to wait a while longer before trying to find those who were trying to find him.

He was reluctant to leave his trusty tree; a sound vantage point and visible from the air.

After a while, he gave up waiting.

“Then just as I got down the canopy, the helicopter flew over,” he rolled his eyes. “That’d be right.” Mr Duncan moved closer to the creek where he managed to wave down a rescue boat.

“They were the third one, the first two didn’t see me,” he said. “The boat would see me sooner or later.

“I certainly wasn’t going to spend another night.”

Throughout the whole unpleasant and itchy experience, Mr Duncan did not spot a single crocodile. Nor did he catch a crab. A welcome party of friends and family were waiting at work when he finally arrived.

“I’ve apologised to everyone,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ve made a big mess.”

Acting Senior Sergeant Gil Dyett, who had feared the worst, was thrilled to deliver the good news to family.

“You don’t get many better jobs in policing than having the opportunity and the ability to do that,” he said.

“You can’t put a price on that.”

Mr Duncan’s boss, Sean Adams, reckoned he would give him the afternoon off.

“I think the shower is on the agenda first and foremost, and then he’ll have a beer and have a sleep after that,” he said.