9 minute read
jailed
HELLUVA HOMECOMING
The authorities at the Honolulu Airport handcuffed me, put shackles around my ankles, and transported me to the jail in downtown Honolulu. I was put into a concrete cell with one small fluorescent fixture. Meanwhile, my wife, hard in Raiatea for cyclone season and made plans to return to the States to renew our cruising kitty, see family and friends, and plan for our next season of cruising. As the wheels of our plane lifted off the runway in Tahiti, Judy and I looked at each other with an unspoken sadness. Our cruising season was over, but at least we were already making plans for our return. Our schedule was to fly through Honolulu, where my wife would remain for a time to visit family and friends, while I would continue on to Los Angeles and then to Georgia to visit my daughter and grandson. But it was in Honolulu that our trip through the 'magic kingdom' — and my personal freedom — came to an abrupt halt. Since Honolulu was our port of entry back into the United States, we were required to clear Customs and Immigration. We assumed this would be routine, but it turned into a shocking nightmare. I gave my passport to the Immigration agent and, after an unusually long time, was asked some odd questions about whether I had ever been to Florida. "Yes," I responded politely. "Why?" "I can't tell you that," said the agent. I was then instructed to report to a secondary Immigration station for further questioning. I was caught completely off
Advertisement
guard and couldn't understand what it was all about. But the bad dream would only get worse. After a number of questions about my social security number and date of birth, I was asked if I could produce identification in addition to my passport. After 20 minutes of stuff like this, it became apparent to me that something really bad was brewing. I was questioned about my history in Arkansas, a state that I had only passed through in years gone by. When two Honolulu police officers showed up, I knew things had taken a turn for the worse. Naturally, Judy was beginning to become very concerned. But she was asked to step aside while I was taken to a confined area. The police then informed me that I was going to be arrested on a felony extradition warrant issued by the state of Arkansas. "What!!!" I was to be charged with writing a string of bad checks in Arkansas, Kansas and Texas. I was then shown the warrant, which had been issued in June of last year. At this point I was very optimistic that things could be quickly cleared up, as the stamps in my passport clearly indicated that I had been in Mexico in January, arrived in French Polynesia in May, and didn't leave Polynesia until September. Surely this would prove that I was nowhere near Arkansas, Kansas or Texas when the bad checks had been written. I further suggested that the checks be faxed so they could compare my signature with the fake, at which time I assumed all would be forgotten and I would be released. The Honolulu Police were having none of it. They informed me that they were obligated to detain me, as my name, social security number, and date of birth all matched the description on the warrant. I was to be held for extradition back to Arkansas. Then I was told it would likely take two to three weeks before someone from Arkansas showed up to get me! If that wasn't bad enough, I was to be held without bail. All this was happening on a Sunday, so the Honolulu detectives
Last 4th of July, Jim (left) and Judy had a crab fest in the Tuamotus with friends Charlie and Suni of 'Cosmos', and Mikey of 'Just Dessert'. Judy Meeks, was asked to leave the airport terminal. What an unbelievable turn of events, as just days before we'd been living a life of freedom aboard our Alajuela 38 Desire in French Polynesia. It all started on April 12 of last year, when Judy and I set sail from Cabo San Lucas for the Marquesas and points beyond. Right from the beginning our adventures surpassed all our expectations, for at nearly every stop our faith in humanity was renewed by the genuine kindness and goodness of the locals — and by fellow cruisers from all over
the planet. To say that we were having a fabulous time would be a tremendous understatement. We reveled in the freedom unknown to most people, a freedom that, not too long in the future, would be taken from me. Judy and I happily cruised through the Marquesas to the Tuamotus, then on to the Society Islands, where we decided to call it a season. We put Desire on the
ALL PHOTOS JUDY MEEKS
— JAILED IN HONOLULU
weren't able to reach anyone in Arkansas to verify that they would indeed follow through with the extradition.
Within the next 20 minutes, I was placed under arrest on false charges. As I stood there in disbelief, my brain felt like it was wrapped in a wet blanket, as there was just no sense to it! My wife was asked to leave the airport terminal, and I was taken to the Honolulu jail, handcuffed and with shackles around my ankles. All my possessions were removed from me and I was taken to a concrete cell. It was about as far from the freedom of cruising the Pacific as one could imagine. For some reason there was no mention of my having the right to speak to legal counsel. And as bail was not an option, the reality of the situation became as hard as the concrete walls of the cell. I tried to sleep as much as possible to avoid thinking about my situation, but I awoke frequently, as the cell was cold, and I'd lost all concept of time. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard a Public Defender tell some inmates what to expect in court later that day. I overheard him say that it was 4 a.m. A short
Over the years, Jim and Judy have visited a countless number of tranquil anchorages. Here, 'Desire' lies off Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas. Jim Welch in happier times.
HELLUVA HOMECOMING
Hangin' with the locals. After spending so much time with friendly islanders, Judy couldn't believe the reception Jim got in Hawaii.
time later, two small chocolate-covered donuts were shoved through my cell door. They would be the sum total of my sustenance for the next 10 hours. No attorney, no bail, no food. I felt like I was in a scene from a prison movie in a Third World country, and that I was the star, wrongfully accused of drug trafficking or some other crime punishable by death. I thought that sort of treatment only happened in other countries, because in the United States we are innocent until proven guilty. Aren't we? A few hours later I was transferred to the court building, where I was placed in a cell with 24 other men for another nine hours. For some reason I was the only one still required to wear leg irons — which was a source of curiosity among the 'regulars' in the cell. After many hours of sitting on cold concrete with the steel of the leg irons biting into my ankles, I was beginning to wish I had worn something more than shorts and slippers on the plane. Suddenly the cell door opened — as it had many times before that day — but this time it opened for me. For even quicker than my nightmare had started, it was over. The Honolulu detective had finally contacted the proper authorities in Arkansas and discovered the truth of the situation. A man using my social security number along with my name and date of birth had indeed gone on a check-cashing spree — but it hadn't
been me. The unbelievable part is that the guilty man had already been arrested in San Mateo, California, and extradited to Texas, where he was in custody. I had been held in jail overnight for a crime committed by a man who had already been in jail in Texas for two months! When I asked how there could still be an active warrant with my name on it when the guilty party had been incarcerated for months, I couldn't get a straight answer. Having been falsely held, I had obviously missed my flight to California, and needed to pay several hundred dollars to change my ticket. Surely some government agency would pay for this. And surely there would be some serious compensation for my ordeal. But no. I have since contacted several attorneys about the matter, and for the most part they have shown no interest. I was informed that I would most likely spend a large sum of money to pursue such a case, and because it would somehow fall under the Homeland Security Act, I would get nowhere. I found this more disturbing than my jail time. How could somebody not be held accountable for the mistake that left me in jail? I can't begin to tell you how helpless it makes you feel. Would I forfeit our cruise knowing what was going to happen at the end? Not on your life! No amount of bureaucratic nonsense can take away the fond memories of that special voyage from me. However, I suggest that you dress
warmly when flying home from a cruise in the tropics, because you never know what Uncle Sam might have in store for you!
— jim welch
• SplicingNut makes attaching hardware to braided line easy. • Lines fail from chafe. SplicingNut allows for easy maintenance. • SplicingNut provides a positive stop… won't jam in sheaves! • Same length everytime. Easy to build and store. Making a lifting harness is a snap! Find out why professionals are switching to the easy-to-use Splicing Nut. Available at Whale Point and Svendsen's Marine stores. The fast mainsail-fl aking system
• Fast – release one hook per side to deploy • Value – backed by a 5 year warranty • Convenient – no sail or sail cover modifi cations • Secure – with 2, 3 or 4 support lines per side • Choices – custom made for your boat • Safety – no falling over the mainsail!
480-993-5280 • www.jiffyjax.com
Email: service@jiffyjax.com Patent Pending
