My name is Rusty Harris. I am a self employed primary producer from Barkers Vale where I have 16 acres of permaculture gardens and a healing centre called the Wunjo Healing Centre. There my partner and I teach yoga, martial arts and psychic healing.

I am 52 years old and the father of a married daughter aged 26, and two boys aged 8 and 5 years.

On the Friday 9 March I went to Byron Bay on the business of supplying local retailers with my postcards and CDs and also to purchase a water ioniser for our Healing Centre.

At about 5.30 pm I was sitting in Fast Eddies Cafe in Jonson Street taking coffee with friends when a white Labrador dog approached me and put its nose in my crutch. It then sat down beside me on my left. At first I thought it a lost dog looking for a friend.

A thin, scruffy-looking, blonde headed woman dressed in jeans and casual clothes then came to my table and said that the dog had detected substances in my pocket.

I said: "So what?" My first thought was that she was a smack freak.

She demanded I empty my pockets. It was not obvious to me from her appearance or her manner that she was a police officer. I refused to cooperate asked her to produce identification and her search warrant. She said she didn't need one.

Then I noticed two men in dark clothes and baseball caps each wearing an ear plug speaker approaching the table. I saw one reach inside his jacket as if for a gun.

That person said to me: "You are coming down the police station with us."

I am well known in Byron Bay because of my postcards, CD sales and my Timbarra story which is told on the CD. The crowd at the restaurant was becoming restive and people were objecting by saying things like: You can't just come here and drag people out without a warrant" and "Get your dog out of here".

Two more men in dark clothes appeared and still sitting I was surrounded at the table by 5 people intimidating me. None had produced anything to identify themselves as police officers.

I felt my life endangered. During my protests against the Timbarra Gold Mine I had been severely beaten by mercenaries employed by Ross Mining. I feared that this was another set up.

So as not to be the cause any violence or property damage in the restaurant I agreed to follow them and we walked together towards the Byron Bay Police Station.

As we neared the railway line, I moved my left hand to check that my moneybag was on my person (it contained $1,8000). At once I was ordered by one of these people: "Keep your hands out!" Two of them, one on either side, then grabbed by arms.

My right arm had been injured in a tractor accident sometime ago and I am still on sickness benefits because of the injury. The grip of the officers was causing me incredible pain, especially in my right arm.

I told the people holding me that they were hurting me and also told them of my injury. I said in a loud voice: "You are assaulting me." They continued to hold me and apply more pressure saying they were taking me to the police station.

A person known to me approached us, telling my abductors that he knew me and asking them what was going on. The persons holding me told my friend to mind his own business in very a threatening manner. "You're obstructing police business", one said although all were in plain clothes and none had yet produced any identification.

In the police station I was violently searched. Outside I could hear shouting from people who had followed us from the restaurant out of concern for my safety. Although they were offering to provide witness for what had gone on they were shut out.

During the search a bag of undried cannabis leaf was found in the pocket of my jacket and in my bum bag a key ring holding a small (25 mm blade) pocket knife, scissors and a lighter. This knife was a gift from my older son for my 50th birthday and is a tool I use whenever I am out with my family to peel fruit and so on.

When one of the searching officers found this pocketknife, he was exulted. "You are carrying a knife. I am going to book you for it." I was angry that this tiny pocket tool which had proven so useful to me as a primary producer was being defined as an offensive weapon.

I said: "You have got to be kidding. You have a gun on you!"

The officer replied: "Yeah. That's to kill people like you".

The officers continued searching and produced my moneybag. With the $1800 was three $US5 notes. The officers asked where the money had come from and I replied; "If I have to go to court I will tell the judge".

The officers told me that they had reason to believe that the money had been stolen. He didn't state any reason.

I was then put in a cell. After a little while I was escorted by two police officers, since identified as Sen Sgt Powell and Sgt Patrech, to the place where my Ford 200 station wagon was parked across the road from Fast Eddies. Another officer had brought a video camera to record the search.

I made a statement intended to be heard by my friends in Fast Eddies Café and recorded on the video camera. About 100 people were gathered around.

I said loudly: " I have been taken away and held in the police station by officers who have refused to produce identification or a search warrant. On Timbarra Mountain I was entrapped, assaulted and an attempt was made to murder me but the police laid no charges. Sixty tonnes of cyanide were to be dumped each year in the Clarence River and police did nothing about that either. Cane toads are a national disaster and no action is taken about them."

I demanded the police say from where they derived their authority, saying that they were on Bundjalung land.

I was grabbed again by the two police officers. Sen Sgt Powell said: "How dare you show us up like that. Get back in the car."

When we arrived back at the police station, I was roughly handled getting out of the car. I said: "You don't have to do this".

Sen Sgt Patrech replied: "I tell you what, I will do a deal with you."

I replied: "I not doing any deals with you."

Sgt Powell then said: "You are a dole bludging scum bag".

I suspected they were trying to provoke me to violence and said in rely: "You are off the planet, mate."

I was again put in a cell. I refused the food offered.

Sgts Patrech and Powell later entered my cell with a bag of cannabis leaf and a tape recorder. I refused to cooperate with their interview saying that they had assaulted me, shown no identification and were holding me against my will.

Again the officers verbally abused me.

After 4 hours in the cell I was charged with possession of prohibited drug and custody of a knife in a public place. I was photographed, finger printed and released. The police kept my money, giving me a receipt instead.

Before leaving the Byron Bay Police Station, I showed Sgt Keogh, the Duty Sergeant, the scars of stitches and lacerations on my right arm, which at the time were red with inflammation from the rough handling of Sgts Patrech and Powell. He invited me to make a complaint but took no action himself.

I was greatly distressed by this arrest. For a couple a small bags of cannabis leaf and a small pocketknife, I had been verbally abused, assaulted, dragged through the streets of Byron Bay and held in custody.

All this during a time of flood rains when I very worried for the welfare of my family. Rising flood waters cut the road from Byron Bay to Lismore that night and I just got through, water coming into the cabin of my Ford 200 wagon.

On arriving back at Barkers Vale home, I found the back of the wagon a mess with pesto sauce. I had been carrying a carton of a dozen jars of Wunja Pesto for distribution to Byron Bay retailers. It appeared to me that, in searching the wagon, the police officers had opened all the jars and left them unsealed.

Rusty Harris
27 March 2001