Actually, just a few weeks ago few a number of chaps were sentenced to record prison sentences for a drugs haul off the west coast of Ireland which occured in July last year.
Like all good stories, it starts on a dark and stormy night. In July. A sodden character staggered up a rocky coast, soaked to the skin, hammered on a door and reported the sinking of his craft and the possible loss of his colleague. (Cue lashing rain, looming seas, gale force winds). A volunteer life boat service proceeded to put to sea in atrocious conditions, where they managed to locate said colleague on sinking craft , and rescued him at the possible cost of their lives. They also noticed an astonishing number of fleecy white bales bobbing in the stormy seas. The rescued man lay on the deck of the lifeboat which had rescued him, shocked, soaked, and swearing. Instead of thanking the crew who had rescued him at the possible cost of their lives, he swore, fluently and at length, staring at the bobbing bales.
The coast guard arrived and took the saturated ones into custody. Initial valuations of the haul suggested 10 million, then 40 million, then 100 million. By the time the gentlemen in question received their record prison sentences a few short weeks ago, authorities had put the value of the haul as exceeding 440 million. It is certainly a record for our part of the world.
There is a wonderful postscript. The craft stalled in stormy seas, because, wait for it, in an otherwise meticulously planned operation, they put diesel into an engine designed for petrol. Cheers
