29

THE WANDERER

GABON, MARCH 2015

“It is a whole world of crazy,” Peter Hammarstedt thinks as he looks at the map lying in front of him on the bridge.

The Thunder and the Bob Barker are sailing north at the outer edge of the Benguela Current, the cold ocean current carrying nutrient-rich water from the South Atlantic Ocean along the West African coast that has made Namibia and Angola into wealthy fishing nations. The interior is a scorched and ruthless landscape that was desiccated 80 million years ago. When the warm, dry air from the Namib Desert meets the cold, damp ocean air, the coast is enveloped in a thick belt of fog. More than a thousand ships have perished due to the fog, currents, cantankerous winds and waves along Namibia’s Skeleton Coast. It could just as well have been named the Dictator Coast, the long strip of land that without warning veers off to the east: Angola, Congo-Kinshasa, Congo-Brazzaville, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Cameroon, all brutal, corrupt states disguised as democracies and republics. Pirates are known to wreak havoc in the surrounding seas, so Hammarstedt gives an order that the Bob Barker is to be made unassailable. A guard is posted around the clock on the helicopter deck to ensure that they are not boarded from behind, additional locks are welded onto all the hatches and bulkheads, and the jack ladder is covered with aluminium plating. Iron spikes are installed along the railing pointing down towards the water like spears.

On the Angolan coast, a mere two days’ sail to the east, there are small port towns scarcely anyone on the ship has heard of before. Namibe, Porto Amboim, Lobito. If the Thunder were to make a quick move towards one of these ports, the local authorities and Interpol’s emergency response team would have little time to respond.

Peter Hammarstedt needs all the help he can get. The Sam Simon has been at Mauritius to deliver the nets the Thunder left behind; now he asks Captain Sid Chakravarty to sail towards the Bob Barker as quickly as he can. In this area they will be much stronger if there are two ships. To gain some time, the Sam Simon will follow close to the coast of Namibia. Then the Benguela Current will provide him with added propulsion.

Hammarstedt must also find an ally on land. In the dim light of the great cabin he sits down to write an email to the only person he believes can help him in this situation: the explorer J. Michael “Mike” Fay. Besides having a doctorate on the western lowland gorilla, he has flown into war zones to protect elephants from guerrilla groups, been shot by poachers and barely escaped with his life when an elephant attacked him, inflicting him with 13 deep stab wounds. Mike Fay has been called “the world’s greatest living explorer”, and he has powerful friends in the area that can come in handy for Hammarstedt.

“Dear Mr. Fay, for the past 92 days I have been in physical pursuit of the internationally wanted Nigerian-flagged poaching vessel FV Thunder,” Hammarstedt begins.

“I am currently chasing the FV Thunder north along the Namibian coast and believe that the poachers will attempt to offload their illegal catch in a West African port.”

When Mike Fay came wandering in onto the coast of Gabon in the late 1990s, it was after 455 days and some 3,500 kilometres on foot. He appeared wearing salt-water sandals, shorts and a thin synthetic T-shirt that could be washed every morning. His entourage consisted of 13 pygmies, serving as pathfinders, baggage carriers and assistants.

Fay had covered the entire Congo Basin, the fertile landscape along the river Congo with the world’s second-largest tropical rainforest and its unique animal and plant life. The purpose was to quantify, measure and document the vegetation and ecosystems that were not cultivated or razed by humans in this vast natural landscape.

In Gabon Mike Fay contacted the dictator Omar Bongo and proposed that they must establish national parks to protect the rain forest of the sparsely populated country. President Bongo allocated more than 10 per cent of Gabon’s land to 13 national parks.

His explanation for his collaboration with the dictator was simple. It was better to work with him than to watch the final remains of the African rainforest disappear. When he went to work cleaning up the beaches of the country (amongst the piles of garbage he found 100,000 flip-flops and a kilo of cocaine), he became aware that the ocean was also threatened by the insatiable greed of human beings. Along the mouths of the rivers by the Atlantic coast there were fleets of Chinese trawlers sweeping up shoals of fish as “thick as bouillabaisse”.1

The realization led to Fay’s commencing work initiatives geared to protect Gabon’s maritime zones.

“I understand that you are a special advisor to the President of Gabon and that you have a passion for combating illegal fishing in Gabonese waters,” Hammarstedt continues in his email.

“I would very much like to keep you updated on our movements so that authorities in Gabon can have as much advance notice as possible of any attempt to transship or offload. Thank you for your tireless work in protecting natural areas. I look forward to hearing from you.”

The next day Hammarstedt receives a short reply.

“No problem. Keep me informed and I will get proper authorities in action if necessary. I would be surprised if she put into Gabon, more likely her home in Nigeria, but if she does, we will be ready. Mike.”

Fay alerts the fisheries authorities and the admiral who has command over Gabon’s tiny fleet of small, but robust, French-built patrol boats. He also alerts the fisheries director of the tiny island nation of São Tomé and Príncipe and has his acquaintances in Gabon’s Navy warn colleagues in Equatorial Guinea and Cameroon. If the Thunder attempts to put into port in Gabon, the ship will be denied entry. Another option is for the Gabonese authorities to lure the vessel in and detain the crew long enough to allow Interpol time to arrive in the country.2

At the very least there is one country in the region that has an unpleasant welcome prepared for the Thunder, Hammarstedt thinks before curling up in his berth in the great cabin.