As Herbie’s business continued, more men came up with the ganja. More ganja dens were opened.
It didn’t take long for the well of friends who wanted to leave Jamaica dried. The next batch weren’t friends, they were guys who needed to leave Jamaica. Guys running from warrants, jumping bail, hunted by rivals. Some had made a mess of their lives and wanted to escape.
Herbie would visit Jamaica every other month, and had his friends find useful bodies.
The payment for the flight would be their labour, and they accepted. Most had no idea what they were getting into. For those men who came up after the first few batches, were more slave than brother. Happy to escape Jamaica, they took what they got, at first, without complaint.
At least for the first month or two.