Catching Thunder

by Eskil Engdal

  “Great drift part four,” Meyerson answers.

  “Maybe they have a mechanical issue, but I guess it could be the beginning of another long drift. They’re obviously in a very desperate situation,” he continues.

  Peter Hammarstedt lifts the binoculars. The Thunder is now lying to almost motionless on the quiet ocean, drifting slowly upon the current.

  Without a word Hammarstedt leaves the bridge, takes a few long steps down the stairs and into the great cabin directly under the wheelhouse. He closes the door behind him, and sits down in the chair by the desk. There he slumps and buries his head in his hands.

  They have no plan, he thinks. Or is it yet another attempt to test our stamina? Is it the final attempt to break us? he asks himself.

  He tries to collect his thoughts, and is glad nobody can see him, especially not Captain Cataldo. He glances up at the door and the quote he hung up when he signed on as captain. It is the speech Theodore Roosevelt held at the Sorbonne in the spring of 1910, a speech Hammarstedt recites for the crew:

  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

  At dawn on 25 March he will strike back against Cataldo. He has prepared an unexpected manoeuvre. Not everyone in Sea Shepherd will approve of Peter Hammarstedt’s next move.

  31

  THE THIRD SHIP

  THE COAST OF CENTRAL AFRICA, MARCH 2015

  Shipmaster Steve Paku on the Atlas Cove worked out that the trip from the shipyard in Raudeberg on the west coast of Norway to Port Louis in Mauritius would take 28 days.

  The 68-metre-long Atlas Cove was the most recent new acquisition of Austral Fisheries’ fleet of toothfish vessels. For four months the ship had undergone extensive rebuilding to equip it fully for the upcoming longline fishing expedition in the Antarctic. When the shiny, freshly painted vessel reaches the coast of Portugal, the shipmaster receives a phone call from Director David Carter of Austral Fisheries.1

  Carter tells him about the chase currently taking place off the coast of Central Africa. The Atlas Cove is already running late for the summer season in the Southern Ocean, and now Carter asks the shipmaster to make a detour to join the chase for the Thunder.

  “Oh shit,” the Atlas Cove’s captain Steve Paku replies.

  “Sea Shepherd is doing the job that we and the authorities should have done. But I know what you’re thinking,” Carter says.

  After his initial hesitant objections, Paku goes along with changing course. He has had a run in with the Thunder himself in the Southern Ocean.

  “And don’t do anything stupid,” Carter concludes.

  Austral Fisheries’ Japanese part-owners were shocked and terrified about what would happen if they were to form any kind of collaboration whatsoever with the environmental organization that terrorized the country’s own whaling fleet. But Carter stuck to his guns and assured them it would have a positive public relations effect.

  Like the majority of the stakeholders in the toothfish industry, Carter also knew that his own shipmasters were sceptical of people who lived on vegetables and soybeans. But now it was about business.

  The illegal fishing also gave toothfish a bad name. Buyers long believed the fish to be in danger of extinction. For a period of time in Australia, convincing restaurant patrons to order toothfish was paramount to requesting they consume panda bear cubs.

  “What the devil is this?”

  As the oceanic space is filled with light, Juan Manuel Patiño Lampon sees a movement on the radar.

  It is eight o’clock in the morning on 25 March. The Thunder’s fishing captain has just turned up for the morning shift. He is wearing his glasses with the thin steel frames, and around his left wrist hangs a silver chain. As usual, he is wearing his watch on his right wrist.

  The ship that has suddenly become visible on the radar is located 3 nautical miles away. It is coming from the north and is on a collision course. On board the Thunder the sight of any vessel, either on the radar or visually, provokes a testy uneasiness among the officers.

  There have been enough trials in the past 24 hours. The Sam Simon arrived from Mauritius; throughout the entire previous day dinghies transported supplies to the Bob Barker – the first in 112 days.

  Lampon feared that they would also receive more fuel and prepared to navigate the Thunder in between to obstruct the operation. But all he saw were crates of fruit and vegetables being winched on board the Bob Barker.

  Now both the Sea Shepherd ships are behind him. He also sees a third ship on the radar. Juan Manuel Patiño Lampon calms himself by deciding that ship is probably headed for a fishing bank.

  “The idea is for the Atlas Cove to swing in, take up position on the starboard quarter and then we will have three ships in formation following the Thunder.”

  At the morning meeting on the Bob Barker Hammarstedt tells the crew about the fishing boat that is on its way to join the chase. Radio silence between the ships has been ordered so the Thunder won’t become suspicious about what is about to take place. The Atlas Cove is already on the radar and will be with them in half an hour. Then it won’t be only two ships, but two worlds that meet. Hammarstedt wants the crew to go on deck and wave the Atlas Cove welcome, but he doesn’t want to force anyone. A number of the activists on board are against fishing, whether it be illegal or legal.

  “We are not out to stop the fishing of toothfish, but the illegal fishing. We have been waiting for the authorities for 100 days without any response. We need all the allies we can find. Now we will have the support of the fishermen. Who are we not to accept that?” Hammarstedt says. Nobody objects.

  As the Atlas Cove approaches the Bob Barker’s stern, the mate veers the ship suddenly up towards the Thunder. The entire crew of the Bob Barker is lined up on the bridge.

  “It’s good to be looking at a vessel that isn’t the Thunder,” Hammarstedt says over the radio.

  “It’s just one mammoth effort there, Peter. I’ve seen this vessel around Heard Island … Be a good eight years ago,” Steve Paku, the shipmaster of the Atlas Cove, says.

  “We’re just hoping to knock them out one by one,” Hammarstedt says.

  Then he orders the ships into formation and asks them to stay a quarter of a nautical mile behind the Thunder. Once again he has raised the Dutch flag.

  “It must be a terrible day for them to see you resupplied yesterday and three ships this morning,” Siddharth Chakravarty says on the radio from the Sam Simon.

  On the Atlas Cove, the engineer has taken control of the radio and calls up the Thunder. In his hand he has a memo written by Steve Paku on the way down from Portugal. He now reads it in Spanish:

  “Fishing vessel Thunder, good morning. I speak in the name of my captain. This is marine fishing vessel Atlas Cove. This ship is a member of COLTO, Coalition of Legal Toothfish Operators. We have set position along Sea Shepherd ships Bob Barker and Sam Simon in support of their actions to stop all illegal fishing operations. Your ship is part of the ones that keeps fishing illegally. Both governments and NGOs are determined to stop this illegal activity. These people behind you won’t let you go passively. Their reputation speaks for them, and you, sir, are their target. They won’t stop until you stop, so do yourself a favour, go home and stay there. If you want to keep fishing in the Southern Ocean, do it through the right channels like everyone else does, and become a responsible person, a responsible and legal
operator. And most important, you help yourself being a responsible person, a responsible human being. We have to take care of the little that is left in the seas, because if we don’t there will be nothing left for our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Over.”

  Captain Cataldo is not in the mood to listen to a cautionary tale about love for nature and children. As the Atlas Cove approached, he was summoned up onto the bridge. He is tired and under the weather; the chase has begun to take its toll on his strength. During the past few weeks he has not been especially talkative, but now he picks up the phone and calls Spain. The numbers of the owner and his two closest colleagues are written down on a yellow Post-it hanging on the wall of the navigation room.

  “Now there are bloody well three of them!” he shouts over the phone.

  According to one of the officers on the bridge, Cataldo then receives an order to run into one of the ships pursuing him. Throughout the entire chase Cataldo has bragged about how he is a better captain and shipmaster than Hammarstedt.

  “We’re going to put about now,” he says after having finished the call to Spain.

  Abruptly he puts the vessel hard about starboard and towards the Atlas Cove.

  “The Thunder is turning, just got to get on the helm here, Steve,” Hammarstedt warns over the radio.

  A black cloud of smoke shoots up out of the Atlas Cove’s stack as the ship picks up speed to escape the Thunder’s sudden attack. The Sam Simon and the Bob Barker must also navigate out of the formation to avoid being hit.

  “Hey Steve, they are a bit unpredictable. Don’t take it personally,” Hammarstedt says.

  When Cataldo finally speaks up over the radio, he is clearly upset.

  “Here Thunder is sailing in international waters with the Nigerian flag. What is the problem with the three ships?” he asks.

  “Yes, yes, what is the problem? It is three ships already, three ships. The Sam Simon, Bob Barker and Atlas Cove. What is the problem? We are sailing in international waters, in international waters with the Nigerian flag, what is the problem? Over.”

  “The problem is that you are fishing illegally, like our colleague said, and we are trying to stop you. Over,” the Sam Simon answers.

  “Negative, negative. We are not fishing, we are sailing. You are going to cause an accident and there are people here, and you have people in your ships, too. You have to be careful and keep a safe distance, over.”

  “If you keep changing course like you are doing, maybe you will cause a collision, otherwise there will not be any accident. Over,” the Sam Simon replies.

  One of Sea Shepherd’s dinghies is positioned in front of the bow of the Thunder, ready to film the altercation. Hammarstedt does not yet know whether he will publicize the story of the meeting with the three ships, out of fear of the reaction of Sea Shepherd supporters who oppose fishing.

  “And your small boat should not cross our bow anymore. That is dangerous. It might make us nervous, and when someone is nervous, he can cause an accident. Over,” Cataldo says.

  “Don’t worry about the small boat, it is not going to cause any accident, it keeps staying away from you. Over.”

  “Say to the captain of the Bob Barker, the captain of the Sam Simon and the captain of the Atlas Cove that I am not afraid of them. I am not afraid of them. If they want to ram me, ram me. If they want to sink me, sink me. But I will keep on with the orders that I have, to sail in international waters. I am not afraid of you. Over.”

  “Understood, but while you keep sailing in international waters, since we are not afraid of you either, we will stay with you. Over.”

  “But don’t accuse me and don’t bother me. I am not afraid of you. If you want to sink me, sink me, but under your responsibility. Remember that we have people here. There are people on board, we are fulfilling a job, and we are going to stay here until we receive another order. Over.”

  “It is not our intention to put your ship or your crew or anyone in danger. We only want to make sure that you go to port and stop fishing. But we don’t want to put anyone in danger, you or us,” the Sam Simon answers.

  “Then why are you so close, why are you so close, the crew here is getting anxious and nervous, and that is dangerous. If there is an accident or a tragedy, or someone jumps overboard, it’s going to be your responsibility. Over.”

  “OK, we will stay with you trying not to make you nervous and keeping a distance. It is not our intention to put anyone in danger or hurt anyone. Over,” the captain of the Sam Simon says through his interpreter.

  After two hours, with a blast of the ship’s horn, the Atlas Cove leaves the formation. Several of the crew on the Sam Simon choose to stay below deck when the fishing vessel sails towards Mauritius to prepare for the season in Antarctica.

  Every time Cataldo has previously called up the Bob Barker, Peter Hammarstedt has tried to discern his state of mind. Perhaps this could give him a warning of what the man would get up to later. He has never heard him so upset and stressed out as he is now, and thinks he has achieved what he wanted with the manoeuvre: to demoralize Cataldo. But the last message from the Thunder on this day worries Hammarstedt.

  “You sent a lot of letters to the ship. You are worried about the Indonesian crew, and now all the Indonesians are nervous. One person attempted to take his life. Over.”

  32

  “YOU ARE NOTHING”

  THE COAST OF CENTRAL AFRICA, MARCH 2015

  For breakfast the next morning, Hammarstedt serves up an offer Cataldo will most likely refuse.

  “Good morning, is this the captain of the Thunder?”

  “Yes, how are you, good morning, go ahead, over,” Cataldo answers.

  “We are concerned with the message yesterday about the self-harm, and we wanted some more information about that,” Hammarstedt says through the interpreter.

  “That is information from the ship, and everything’s fine. The only problem is when you get too close and start to harass us and bother us, that’s the problem, over.”

  “We have doctors on board and we can lend medical assistance.”

  “Yes, here, too, I have the medical assistance preparation, there is no problem.”

  “If you are concerned about your Indonesian crew, we wanted to offer you the possibility of transferring them to the Sam Simon and pay for their flights to go home,” Hammarstedt suggests.

  “No, negative, negative. They are fine here working with our contracting agency. They are content with us, they are fine. We have all the food and their salaries, everything’s fine. The problem is you. When we get to port we will make everything clear with you and the authorities,” Cataldo answers.

  The Thunder’s captain seems calmer and more collected on the radio than he had the day before, when the fishing vessel the Atlas Cove joined the chase for a brief period of time.

  “If you are concerned for your Indonesian crew, you should go to port. The only reason why we are here is because we are waiting for you to go to port, and we won’t leave you until you do so,” Hammarstedt says.

  “But you are no one. You are no authority, no army, no one to order me to go to port. I only take orders from my contracting agency and from the country of my flag, Nigeria. Until this point they have said nothing to me, so we will remain here. That is the idea, and that is what we are going to do.”

  “OK, if you need medical assistance, or medicines, radio us. We will be here on channel 16, thank you.”

  “OK, OK, thank you. We have everything here on board, medical supplies, food, everything. We have enough to be here nine months without any problem, over.”

  Nine months! Hammarstedt prays a silent prayer that he’s bluffing. Then he gives the order to prepare the dinghies.

  “We will launch the boat at 2 o’clock,” Hammarstedt says over the ship’s internal communication radio.

 
He wants to try once more to throw bottles containing messages to the Indonesian crew on the Thunder.

  “Greetings Indonesian crew, we understand that you cannot come and speak freely while your captain is on board but we will always be standing by on VHF 77 and should you have the opportunity, just transmit a message and we’ll try and receive it,” he writes in the new message.

  Hammarstedt sees no activity on the deck of the Thunder. He guides the Bob Barker in close to the Thunder’s starboard side and blasts the ship’s whistle for half a minute to provoke a reaction. He also sends one of the two dinghies out in front of the Thunder’s bow to distract the officers. Suddenly he sees movements on deck and calls up the dinghy:

  “There are three of them out on deck now!”

  Perhaps one of them will manage to snatch the message out of the water.

  On the Thunder, Captain Cataldo has decided to respond to the information siege and calls the Indonesian third engineer up onto the bridge. He sailed on the Spanish trawler the Pitufo – “The Smurf” – for several years and speaks a few words of Spanish. Cataldo has written a few sentences down on a piece of paper in advance and asks the third engineer to read them out loud to Hammarstedt. None of the others in the Indonesian crew are informed of what is about to happen when Cataldo calls up the Bob Barker.

  “We have received the letters that he has sent. And the person in charge of the Indonesian crew is going to talk to you now, so that you will hear from them that they don’t want you to bother them again. He is going to tell you now. Over,” Cataldo says.

  “OK, go ahead,” Hammarstedt asks.

  Then the microphone changes hands. In faltering Spanish the engineer reads out the message.

  “I mariner from Indonesia, please, your small boat, not possible anymore, and um, no throwing cans here, because here mariner no problem, here good. Lot of food, when I call the family, no problem. Captain good, and company much good too, food also a lot, and salary, there is no problem. Everything, everything good.”