A SKIPPER'S STORY: HOW A GREAT DRUG BUST WENT VERY, VERY BAD

It Was, By All Accounts, One Of The Biggest Drug Busts In West Coast
History. It Is, By Many Accounts, Turning Into One Of The Most Botched.
Sixteen Months After U.S. Officials Seized A B.C. Fish Boat Containing More
Than $250 Million Worth Of Smuggled Cocaine, Not A Single Arrest Has Been
Made. On Feb. 21, 2001, The U.S. Coast Guard Nabbed A 27-Metre Canadian
Fishing Boat Off Cape Alava With 2.5 Tonnes Of Coke In Its Bow. The Skipper
Claims He Was Working For Members Of The Hells Angels -- And For The RCMP
Too. Today, For The First Time, The Skipper Tells Sunday Province News
Editor Fabian Dawson His Side Of This Troubling Tale.

For Phil Stirling, it comes down to this: If he can just keep refusing to
name names, he can keep both the police and the Hells Angels at bay.

If he can do that, he may even stay alive.

The Victoria-area fisherman, who admits he is already a convicted drug
smuggler and police informant, knows he now sits at the dangerous heart of
a controversial drug bust that -- if successfully prosecuted -- would lay
bare the workings of one of B.C.'s biggest cocaine conspiracies.

"[But] if they come after me, I will take . . . the cops and the Hells
Angels with me," says the defiant 55-year-old.

It's a vow made by a man who says his life has been threatened and that he
has been abandoned by the police officers who asked him to do their "dirty
work."

With a criminal record for drug smuggling that stretches from Kingston,
Ont., to Victoria, Philip John Stirling -- now married with a teenaged son
- -- freely admits he "started smuggling dope when I was 16."

Equally frank about his criminal connections, Stirling says he last served
time in 1985 -- 14 months of a five-year sentence, served at Victoria's
William Head institution for cocaine-related offences.

He was arrested again on Jan. 2, 1999, at his home in Metchosin with three
kilograms of marijuana. Those charges were stayed.

It was later that same year his present troubles began, he says.

While selling tuna off the docks in Victoria, Stirling says he was
approached by a prison acquaintance who asked him to skipper a boat to
Colombia to pick up cocaine for members of the Hells Angels.

"The next day, the cops came to see me . . . They knew everything and had
been following these guys with some kind of special squad."

The police, according to Stirling, wanted him to do the Colombia-run and
help them break up what would have been a major drug importation ring.

"I asked for a million dollars and for them to buy my house and boat so I
[could] go live in Maui and fish after this s--- went down."

Stirling claims that a series of meetings occurred between 1999 and 2001 at
which the Mounties agreed to his assorted demands -- and "I recorded most
of these meetings," he says.

Stirling says he met with Hells Angels members in 1999 and agreed to do the
job for a 10-per-cent cut of the profits on the drug deal -- and he says he
told police about the agreement.

While Stirling started scouting around for a boat, arrangements were made
for a Mexican government source to provide the location of U.S. Coast Guard
and navy vessels at the time of the pickup.

"[Then] after I told the Hells Angels I would do it and they gave me
$100,000, the cops came back and said the deal was off," Stirling said.

"They said they had no funding for the job. What was I supposed to do -- go
tell the Hells Angels I am working for the cops and get killed?

"The cops just said, 'Tell them you can't do it.' "

Late in 2000, Stirling bought the 27-metre Western Wind, a fishing boat
once owned by B.C. Packers Ltd. and later by a Delta fisherman. The
purchase was made with $100,000 -- half of which was money from some Hells
Angels -- by Western Wind Fisheries Inc., whose sole director is Stirling.

"I told the Hells Angels that the heat was on and they should drop the run,
but they said they had somebody on the inside," Stirling says.

"I told the cops the Angels wanted me to go on the run [and that] I had
already taken money from them. They did not seem to care," he says.

"I just couldn't handle it . . . so I said to hell with it . . . I was
caught because I was stupid. [I thought] 'I'll go fishing in Tahiti and
make up some story about bad weather and my boat breaking down and how I
can't pick up the coke.' When I came back, I would give them back the
$50,000 and say the rest was spent on fuel and food for the crew," he says.

Stirling, who denies he refitted the boat to carry the cocaine, left for
Tahiti with a crew of three in December of 2000.

"Two weeks before I left, the cops came to see me again," he says. "They
said, 'Phil, if we can get this thing together and call you out on the
boat, will you leave from fishing to go do this?' My reply was yes, and I
gave them a sideband [radio] frequency for them to contact me."

Stirling said he also had an Internet wireless connection on the boat,
similar to a Palm Pilot, that could handle e-mails.

Stirling says that after he left, Hells Angels members visited his wife and
asked where he was: "They contacted me and threatened me. They kept asking
how my family was." As a result of the e-mails, "I turned the boat around
for Colombia around Jan. 2 or Jan. 3 [2001]," he says.

U.S. Customs officials who seized the on-board computer would not say if
they have any evidence of threatening e-mails.

Stirling says he picked up the cocaine about 20 kilometres off the South
American coastline. The drugs, about 2.5 tonnes, were wrapped in sacks
normally used to pack Columbian sugar.

Stirling says he then told the crew, who were unaware of the drug plan,
about his predicament.

"I offered them between $50,000 and $100,000 from the money I thought I
[would] get from the cops when I pulled into Victoria and handed them this
s- - -.

"If I was going to take the 10 per cent from the Hells Angels, I would be
talking to the crew in millions," says Stirling.

Given no choice, the crew took him up on the offer.

Stirling claims the e-mail system crashed on his way back and he was hoping
to get a call from the RCMP through the sideband radio frequency he had
given them.

No call came. The RCMP had by that time alerted the U.S. Coast Guard to
watch for the vessel.

On February 21, 2001, three U.S. Coast Guard cutters approached the Western
Wind in the Juan De Fuca Strait off Cape Alava.

"I was in international waters when they approached me and I was towed into
Port Angeles . . . They took my Canadian flag off the boat," he says.

Stirling said he showed the U.S. agents where the drugs were stashed and
asked to speak to Canadian RCMP officers.

"At this time, the cops told me that they had spotted the Hells Angels with
jet boats waiting at Beecher Bay [outside Victoria] to pick up the cocaine.

"We discussed a controlled delivery . . . but this got nixed by a top
Mountie in B.C.

"You got to wonder why they did not do this. They could have got the whole
lot."

American officials, frustrated at not being given a clear explanation of
the operation and unable to get RCMP to confirm Stirling was an informant,
eventually released Stirling and his crew into the custody of the
Canadians, took the boat and destroyed the cocaine. U.S. customs agents
also seized the ship's on-board computer and the e-mail system.

Stirling says a team of RCMP officers took him to a hotel in Harrison Hot
Springs and kept him there for more than two weeks to find a way to salvage
the investigation.

"They told me that I had to do seven years and they [would] pay me $84,000
if I testified," he claims. At another time, Stirling says, he was offered
$50,000.

After he was released, Stirling -- an avid hunter -- found his gun licences
had been revoked.

Now he has decided to fight back.

Stirling filed formal papers Thursday with the RCMP Public Complaints
Commission alleging misconduct by the Mounties. He has also hired lawyers
to sue the RCMP for the million dollars he alleges police promised him if
he would act as their agent.

This week, he told The Province he is bracing for the battle of his life.

For that battle, he claims he has armed himself with 24 hours' worth of
audio recordings he says represent conversations between himself and RCMP,
all made before the cocaine was seized.

He has also made a video affidavit that he says was taken under oath,
attesting to the full details of his story.

And finally, he says he has a contract allegedly signed by himself and the
RCMP.

Stirling swears to having the crucial audio tapes, the videotape and the
contract, although police are skeptical. His lawyers were not available to
comment whether or not the materials exist.

However, in a separate video recording viewed by The Province and taken
from closed-circuit cameras around Stirling's house in April, he can be
heard explaining his tale to two men who identify themselves as RCMP
officers. He details the adventure, names his vessel, outlines the threats
on his life and explains why he plans to sue the Mounties.

On the tape, the officers say they are there to ensure the safety of
Stirling and his family.

RCMP spokesman Grant Learned is sticking to a police policy of neither
confirming nor denying that Stirling served as their informant.

Learned -- who says the case is "extremely active" and that investigators
are trying to get as high up and as far across the ladder of conspiracy as
possible -- confirmed that the U.S. Department of Justice is also actively
pursuing the investigation.

Stirling's response? "Without my help they got nothing . . . no names."

He says that one of the officers who made the initial approach to him was
Staff-Sgt. Pat Convey of the RCMP's Vancouver Island drug squad.

Convey, who retired from the RCMP last September to join B.C.'s Organized
Crime Agency and has been credited with some of B.C.'s biggest drug busts,
expressed surprise when told that Stirling had given an interview to The
Province.

"He is playing an extremely dangerous game," Convey said. "There are so
many twists and turns in this case."

Convey would not comment on specific claims made by Stirling.

"All I can tell you is that there was a whole lot of dope on that boat . .
. The rest you have to get from Heather Street [RCMP headquarters].

"I'd love to talk to you about this case, but there are too many
liabilities," he said. "If he says he has got the tapes . . . I guess he
will have to produce them."

Asked about Stirling's claim that somebody high up in the RCMP nixed the
project after it had been arranged, Convey said: "He is not wrong about that.

"This case makes me wake up in the middle of the night sometimes," he said.
"It's a very dangerous game he is playing."

For his part, Stirling says he remains frustrated and angry with the RCMP,
who he believes could have scored a major victory over the Hells Angels --
if they had kept their promise and paid him his million dollars.

"I have told the Hells Angels if they come after me, I have this movie and
it will go to the RCMP.

"My silence is the only way I can stay alive."

Two weeks ago, the Seattle Times quoted unnamed U.S. law enforcement
officials who wrote a stinging report on the RCMP's handling of the case.

Learned, speaking for the RCMP, said he understands the frustrations of
some of the U.S. officers, given that the full story of the operation can't
be revealed yet.

If this case ever goes to court -- and results in convictions against the
Hells Angels -- it would mark the RCMP's most significant success to date
in their war on the biker gang.

So far, the most successful operation against the Angels in B.C. came with
the conviction of two members of Vancouver's East End chapter in 2001.

The pair were found guilty of conspiring to traffic in cocaine, of
trafficking in cocaine and of possession of proceeds of crime valued at
more than $1,000.

That investigation, launched in July of 1996, took almost seven years to
conclude and cost Vancouver police $800,000.