ALL EYES ON THE OCEAN

Const. Dale Johnstone lifts his binoculars, squints at a far-off powerboat
zipping into U.S. waters.

It's a sunny day - youths in bathing suits cut through the ocean on their
parents' pleasure crafts.

But the boaters on Johnstone's mind have dark motives. They are drug
smugglers, human traffickers, terrorists.

As head of the Integrated Border Enforcement Team's Pacific marine unit,
Johnstone patrols the B.C.-Washington marine border in an RCMP police boat.

IBET unit target cross-border criminal activity through a collaboration
between U.S. and Canadian agencies like the RCMP and the U.S. Coast Guard.

Johnstone lowers his binoculars, keeping one eye on the disappearing speed
boat.

From his vessel, the Peace Arch looks like a tiny first tooth; the border
between Tsawwassen and Point Roberts is a thin line shaved out of the forest.

"We like to hang out here," he says, gesturing to the sea. "This is where a
lot of the action happens. What we see is the dope going south and coke and
money coming north."

Johnstone and Const. Owen Rusticus, his partner for the day, wear police
uniforms and high-tech, barely-there life jackets that inflate when they
contact water. There's a mini flotation device on the cord attached to
Johnstone's sunglasses.

Get arrested out here and you'll wind up wearing a boxy, orange life vest,
the kind that slips over your head, allowing Johnstone to handcuff you with
ease.

"Last week was the first time I ever booked a guy wearing a life jacket. He
wouldn't take it off because he was afraid of the water. Can you believe
that?" Johnstone asks.

He's referring to a bust in which two men were arrested near the White Rock
pier with pot, cocaine and a stolen credit card on board.

Like the three Surrey men arrested last week in connection with a drug
tunnel built under the border, nautical pot smugglers are an inventive bunch.

"I've inspected old, beat-up boats with brand new fiberglass floors. And
you ask yourself, 'Now why would you put a brand new floor on that old
boat?' To hide marijuana, of course."

(Johnstone's boat, a Titan rigid-hull inflatable with twin, 250-horsepower
engines, is only a year old. It's worth around $240,000 and has a top speed
of 46 knots or 85 kilometres per hour. There's a GPS system on board, but
no bathrooms.)

So Johnstone and his cohorts must be inventive, too. He recalls tipping off
U.S. authorities to a human trafficker transporting four men from Crescent
Beach Marina across the border. He managed to snap a photo of the men and
send it to the Americans, who were already waiting for them.

"A few times the U.S. guys have picked someone up after I called to tell
them someone suspicious was leaving the marina. It's kind of fun when it
works out that way," Johnstone says.

"Right now if I had something going on I might just pick up my phone and
call my U.S. equivalent."

In fact, Johnstone carries two cellphones - one signed up with a Canadian
company, the other on an American plan - and walkie-talkies from police
forces in both countries. He does this because his patrol often takes him
south of the border.

"I'm on a first-name basis with a lot of the Americans. We go out for
chicken wings _ And that's what IBET is all about - integration."

IBET was created in 1996 in response to cross-border crimes occurring on
the land, air and marine borders between B.C. and Washington.

The project is a collaboration between the RCMP, Canada Border Services
Agency, U.S. Customs and Border Protection, the U.S. Coast Guard, and U.S.
Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

The B.C. IBET averaged $1 million per month in seizures of weapons, drugs
and tobacco in 2000. The 2001 federal budget included $135 million over
five years for more IBETs; now there are 23 of them operating in 15 regions
the length of the Canada-U.S. border.

Because IBET's primary focus is national security, its importance has
increased after the Sept. 11 attacks.

"The difference before and after 9/11 is just huge," Johnstone says. "But
our mandate has always been watching for terrorists and the protection of
Canada."

Luckily, he hasn't had any dealings with terrorists so far. The ocean may
look the same on either side of the border, but it isn't, he says.

"Most of the terrorist threat is to the United States. That's not to say
we're not a target, but most of them are already in Canada and want to head
south."

Still, Johnstone's job is dangerous because he must sometimes confront
armed smugglers with only one partner to help him.

"If you get into trouble it's a long way to go for backup," he chuckles.

Another difference between the U.S. and Canadian sides is manpower;
although Johnstone is secretive about how many people work in his IBET, he
says there are many more people doing his job south of the border.

"But there's also more people down there, more crime. Things are a lot
crazier down there."

On Friday, July 29, Johnstone leaves his post; he's been promoted to watch
supervisor with the White Rock RCMP.

Will he miss this?

"Oh, no kidding, no kidding, I'll miss it. It's great to be out here on a
nice day with the breeze on your face."