No attempt at fine prose today. Dmitri Ivanov, our engineer, is proving a major problem. It seems I was wrong to involve him in our plan. I had not long taken over the helm from Carlos when Dmitri entered the wheelhouse and overheard a middle-of-the-night satellite call from Uruguayan Fisheries—Francisco Molteni has ordered us back to Montevideo. Dmitri had paced the floor, insisting we unload in Mauritius as planned. I’ve never seen someone so emphatic yet so blank, like a sheet of ice. The air in the room was heavier in his presence, and I was suddenly aware of the dank smell of the carpet. Clenching his teeth so hard that the muscles at his temples bulged, he claimed he’d tell Migiliaro about our arrangement to sell behind his back if I broke our deal. He said the South Africans he is on-selling to—thugs he informs me—also have my family’s address.
It’s my fault. He was my choice. But if Carlos was to be kept out of trouble, he couldn’t know who we were selling to. Julia would never have agreed to Carlos’s part in the private sale if he had had to do anything other than just turn a blind eye. It was my promise to the pair of them to wear the consequences. Predictably, my oldest friend hadn’t liked it when I said I would shoulder all the risk, but I joked that I owed him for a lifetime of misdemeanours that he had wanted no part in. This was my chance to put it all right. I might have laughed, but I have rarely been more sincere. In front of Carlos I had held Julia’s hands and looked into her dark, wet eyes and assured her that it would all work out fine.
But now I am not so sure. Dmitri, without the knowledge of anyone else on board, has smuggled guns on to the boat—or so he claims. He won’t tell me where they are. Perhaps it’s all a bluff. He says he was to sell them to his South African buyers along with the fish, and that they could come in useful if we are boarded. He had the deluded eyes of a madman when he told me that. But I think I have convinced him that Namibia is our safest option. I agreed that Montevideo is out of the question—the catch would be seized—and argued that with the Australian patrol lying in wait, Mauritius is a risk we should try to avoid. Instead, Dmitri’s buyers could meet us at Walvis Bay. I’d already discussed this with Carlos just a short while before.
Dmitri still can’t understand why I have kept his role in our plan a secret—why Carlos would be content for me to make all the arrangements. Dmitri caught me looking at the photograph of Julia, which is taped to the wheelhouse wall, and said that if he were Carlos, he wouldn’t be so trusting.