Patrol Sleeping

Account limit of 2114 requests per hour exceeded.

My Armageddon - Part II

I hope you managed to catch part I. But don't worry if you missed it, the rest of the story is the most stirring!

Day 10. Thursday 20th March

At 4:45am, a strange time, the Lagos marines were finally discharged from their 'guard' duties and allowed to fly back to their home base. They were replaced by two Pathfinder marines who stood at arms all the time.

The day started as they all normally do in this navy base. The patrol boats, all re-fuelled the evening before were made ready for patrol and loaded up with their 12.7 mm machine guns fore and aft, their AK47's and the ammunition for the day's patrols. The navy's Pathfinder group is responsible for the security of the Bonny River and its creeks in their fight against piracy, abduction and sabotage.

It was very frightening each day when machine gun fire broke the jungle silence as test rounds zipped overhead and into the forests around the base, but I learned to watch for the powder dust cloud of the fired ammunition and knew the sound would follow. The patrol (gunboats) then disappeared up river and creeks and arrived back at base late afternoon. Some six ribs formed the squadron, five serviceable with one under repair.

Fortunately they left us with our mobile phones which meant we could communicate with contacts back home.

Day 11. Friday 21st March

Good Friday, although I've never known what was supposed to be good about it! Today was to be my apocalypse, my Armageddon however you would like to describe it.

Roused a little early by the morning watch, at 06:20, I brewed a cup of coffee and went on deck to look at the comings and goings of this morning's Pathfinders patrol. Just 20 yards from me I watched the lead RIB skipper (our friendly marine who only a couple of days ago let us know it would be best to remain in the navy base) who was finalising his preparations and crew for his next patrol. It was 6:45am now and I can still recall in slow motion how he checked over his shoulder to look at the outboards as he switched on the engine ignition.

In an instant I was looking at hell on earth! A wall of flame some 30ft high engulfed all the personnel on board the RIB. I could only make out shadows moving horrifically in the flames and no opportunity to help. One marine on fire, head to foot, appeared out of the holocaust, wearing heavy body armour and jumped into the river never to surface again.

I watched in fright and awe as the first RIB and its personnel disintegrated before my very eyes. Then the realisation that ordinance was exploding all around us and our vessel. Our crew, except the chief engineer who had bolted to the engine room to make ready to go, buried themselves behind the sand bags stacked at the stern of our vessel. For 30 mins my head was full of the noise of exploding ordinance. I was concentrating on keeping the Nigerian crew calm, as they were clearly terrified.

A break in the bangs, booms and zipping of bullets and a peer over the topsides. Almighty, not just one gunboat had gone up in flames, but one after another, after another. Five burning hulks came floating slowly past our vessel on the flood tide.

Now was the time to run ashore and run we did. We weaved our way passed spent heavy calibre shell casings praying that no more were on their deadly way. No time to look back now as we sought the shelter of the boats on the hardstanding. Another quarter of an hour was to pass before an all clear was declared.

I've never seen such devastation, but during the whole event it felt as though it was a film.

Removal of the bodies was a gruesome task. Rather than being 'charred' as I expected, I found it very bizarre that the bodies were white, arms and legs rigid in the final death throes of the fire.

That night myself and the three South Africans were accommodated 'for our own safety' in what was described as the officers hostel. The bars on the windows and doors, and us all sleeping together in the one room with a seven man guard really gave it away. We were never permitted to stray more than 100 yards from the 'hostel'.

Day 12. Saturday 22nd March

This was now the time (I felt) to make contact with the British High Commissioner. He was unavailable to make a visit as he had no driver, but would endeavour to make representations the following day.

Day 13. Sunday 23rd March

The British High Commissioner turned up today. He was of very little help as his authority was not recognised by the naval base commander. Indeed he had other pressing matters later in the day, he had to get back in time to watch the football match.

Up to now the Marines had always kept their personal weapons with them. At one point after the Commissioner had left, a marine stood his rifle against the wall next to where I was sitting. He took some empty coke bottles into the kitchen. He was a friendly chap who I had known for a week or so and we got on well.

At this point where despair was almost total, all that went through my mind was 'pick up the rifle, kill him and run'. It then dawned on me that yes, one would be dead and we could move to the door, but the guards who remained outside would mow us down before we got past the threshold. This thought stayed with me until the marine returned and reclaimed his weapon.

This was the only time in my life when I have ever thought about and could possibly have killed a man for real.

Day 14. Monday 24th March

Easter Monday, our deliverance day! I'm not religious but the significance of the hell of Good Friday and our release on Easter Monday was not lost on me.

We had been instructed by the company, through mobile phone calls, to show the marines how to operate our vessel the 'Spitfire' and all her idiosyncrasies. It was after this familiarisation with our vessel that I felt the most vulnerable. In effect they no longer needed us for anything to do with the vessel.

It appeared now that we had become a liability. With the tragic loss of the navy's vessels and men on the Friday and a heightened risk of us 'whites' being kidnapped by the militants we became a genuine risk to their operations. Therefore at 4:30pm out of the blue, our associate the ex Nigerian Police Chief turned up at the naval base. After some discussion and paperwork we were dispatched in two military vehicles, two armed guards in each, to Port Harcourt for a hotel room. The next morning we caught the first available flight out to Lagos.

What a relief!

The following two weeks were spent in a Lagos hotel waiting to see if release orders would have any effect on us returning for the ship.

This period allowed us to reflect, report and talk through the events of the previous fortnight. I think this helped me hugely as I found it a relief to be able to talk about what I'd seen instead of coming straight back home and maybe keeping the death and destruction all bottled up.

The Nigerian Authorities did not release our patrol boat, so one month after arriving I was back on another British Airways flight back to blighty and the security of home.

Epilogue

We came to the conclusion that it was always the intention of the Nigerians to acquire our patrol vessel. Several representations had been made to our company for the purchase of our vessel during pre-planning discussions, which were all refused.

We felt the incident was simply the accident waiting to happen. Militants claimed it was of their doing when the extent of death and destruction finally became known. The militants and the authorities made denials, claims and counter claims which resulted in widely inaccurate reporting of this incident across Africa and in the European press. Google: 'nigerian navy pathfinders' to view several media reports of this incident.

This account, albeit with some detail and names omitted for obvious reasons, is to record the times, dates and casualty reports as accurately as possible from personnel who were there!

The Authorities

It is not unknown for deceit and corruption at the highest level to occur in this part of the world. Google: 'vanishing oil tankers' to get some of the background stories.

The Militants (MEND)

The Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta believe they are fighting corruption as the oil taxation revenues were originally imposed to ensure that education and health policies and programs were established for the good of the nation. They are having a major impact on the reduction of revenues through piracy, sabotage of pipelines and oil production facilities, kidnapping and murder.

About the Author

The author is the editor and publisher of an online power boat magazine for sports and professional users of rigid hull inflatable boats, RIBs.
www.hotribs.com

Nightwish - Sleeping Sun (Live Hamburg, 28.09.2007)