In 2021, one of Australia’s most wanted fugitives walked into a police station and turned himself in after nearly three decades on the run from authorities.
Darko Desic had been living a quiet life as ‘Dougie’ on Sydney’s northern beaches, but his money as a handyman dried up during the Covid pandemic.
In 1992, Desic was serving a prison sentence for growing marijuana in a northern NSW prison when he decided to escape, fearing for his safety if he were sent back to his home country, the former Yugoslavia, upon his release.
The daring escape grabbed headlines after appearing on Channel Seven’s Australia’s Most Wanted.
But years on the run left him jobless, destitute, homeless and an “emotionally broken” man.
“It’s getting to a point where I don’t have people I can rely on anymore, like in previous days,” Desic, now 68, said A current issue.
‘I didn’t stay on the beach all the time, I slept on a mattress on a football field. I didn’t feel like continuing anymore. (I thought) that’s it. No will and nowhere to go.”
After making up his mind, he walked into the Dee Why police station.
In 2021, 30 years after escaping from prison in NSW, one of Australia’s most wanted fugitives, Darko Desic (pictured) walked into a police station and handed himself in.
Darko Desic is depicted when he was a much younger man, before his infamous life began
“I said, ‘My name is Darko Desic and I would like to surrender myself. I escaped from Grafton Prison,” he recalled.
Desic’s life on the run began in Avalon on Sydney’s northern beaches.
“I lived with surfies, moved from place to place, didn’t have to have ID, nobody asked anything,” he said.
The locals didn’t ask too many questions of the man they called Dougie, which suited him just fine.
“If there was ever a mention, I think once or twice it was about (being a) legal immigrant,” he said.
He was a qualified engineer, and while he was grateful for the jobs he was hired for, he also wanted to keep his brain busy.
So he learned about computers from books.
“I’ve spent quite a bit of money on books on operating systems, programming languages and computer architecture,” he said.
Desic felt safe in Avalon among his new friends, but there was a desperate call when a detective knocked on his door.
‘My face must have screwed up because he said, ‘Don’t worry, it has nothing to do with you.’
Even though he was free, he always had to look over his shoulder and wonder who he could trust and what the future held.
“I kind of lived like a monk,” he said.
Then came Covid. Although many people lost their jobs, they were able to receive higher social benefits during the pandemic.
But not Desic. He lost his job and his home, and without access to any government assistance, he made the fateful decision to turn himself in.
Darko Desic would like to visit Croatia, but above all he wants to become an Australian citizen
He ended up back behind bars to complete his sentence and served another two months for escape.
With a roof over his head and three meals a day, he had no intention of trying to escape from prison again.
‘Never. They could have opened the door. “I never would have dated,” he said.
Prison was also different the second time.
‘It was a different generation. I was now (an) uncle,” Desic said with a smile.
However, when his term was up, he was immediately transferred to Sydney’s Villawood Detention Center for deportation.
People who knew him on Sydney’s northern beaches, and many who had never met him, posted signs calling for his release and for the government to show some mercy for the now elderly man.
‘I was always surprised why. Even today I’m puzzled as to why. It’s nothing I’ve done (that’s) extraordinary,” he said.
But barrister Paul McGirr, who took on Desic’s case pro bono, said: ‘He had done his time well and honestly and given back to the community without spending a cent on welfare in any way.’
Mr McGirr said it was a classic Australian story. “It’s a bit of Aussie larrikinism. We are based on a convict settlement, whether we like it or not.
“Ultimately, Australians like a bit of a villain story, and we always have.”
Desic finally got the call he so desperately wanted. For the first time in more than thirty years he was truly free. His release certificate is pictured
Desic finally got the call he so desperately wanted.
For the first time in more than thirty years he was truly free.
He now lives alone on a farm near Sydney, after being offered a job and a house by a Sydney businessman who supported him from the start.
he was released from prison two years ago and still feels like a prisoner because he can’t prove who he is.
Yugoslavia, the county he left, no longer exists.
Desic tried to obtain a Croatian passport and managed to obtain his original Yugoslavian birth certificate. But it wasn’t enough.
‘I went to the Croatian consulate. I have no identity papers,” he said.
He will need a primary photo ID such as a driver’s license or photo ID. But Transport NSW told him he can’t get either because he can’t prove who he is.
He would like to visit Croatia one day, but most of all he wants to become an Australian citizen.
‘I feel like an Australian. I don’t speak like that with my accent, but feeling is different from the way you speak and your accent.’
Desic is eternally grateful to everyone who supported him.
“Their confidence in me was justified,” he said.
Desic decided to break his silence because he hopes “maybe to inspire people to some extent.” To survive.’