But who were these Somali men talking to my kidnappers?
My first thought was The Somalis have sent reinforcements. That was a common tactic among pirates. They would call for fresh troops and boats would come out and relieve the original bandits. But how would they sneak a skiff past the navy and come right up to the lifeboat? I couldn’t believe that had happened. The Bainbridge would intercept anyone trying to approach our vessel, of that I was sure.
Then it had to be the navy’s Somali interpreter. But why were they talking about fatwas and Yemen? I thought again of the Leader’s claim that he knew the navy guys, and it sure sounded like he was familiar with these two. The tone of their voices was intimate, as if they’d known one another for years. The guys on the outside of the boat were pleading with the Somalis, trying to get them to see reason. But the pirates were having none of it.
The debate raged on. I could tell from their posture and inflection that Musso and Tall Guy were gung ho. I got the feeling that they didn’t want to give up for anything, that they wanted to fight to the death. Young Guy was just nodding, with an attitude that seemed to say, Whatever you guys decide, count me in. But he didn’t seem to have an opinion of his own.
The Leader was conflicted. Of all of them, I think he had the best sense of how much danger they were in.
I could see it was a desperate time. They talked about death; in English they would say “death.” And they would say “family.” And “fatwa” again. And then, “Oh fuck.”
I kept quiet. It seemed the interpreters were trying to negotiate for my release. When they left, I could hear them walk along the deck and get into a boat. I heard the engine start and then fade into the distance.
I knew that no compromise had been reached. It had been a tense debate and when the negotiators left, the mood on the lifeboat was even more tense, more expectant. Something is going down, I thought.
Later, the navy swore to me that none of their personnel had ever been on that lifeboat. But I wasn’t dreaming. There had been an attempt to reason with the pirates and it had failed.
The sun came up. I’d been on the boat for two days and three nights. The heat began to rise. The pirates were down to their underwear.
That morning, they began by discussing—mainly in English, I’m sure for my benefit—when they should kill me. They went to get the Leader, who was dozing in the aft end of the boat. I could see his thin legs on the floor. But they couldn’t wake the guy up. No matter how many times they prodded him, he kept snoring away. Finally, they gave up, saying, “Oh, we’ll kill him later.”
Man, I thought, they can’t even wake the guy up to execute me.
Time passed slowly. I was tensed up, waiting for the next try at a ceremonial killing. The episode with the negotiators—at least I thought they were negotiators—was lingering in my brain.
I heard helicopters approaching, that whap whap whap of the rotor blades. I could feel them settle above us, because the wash from their propellers buffeted the lifeboat. Spray flew into the lifeboat through the windows. I thought, Wow, they must be close, to kick up this much water. But later I learned it was the Bainbridge’s hoses—they’d pulled up right next to us and were spraying us, trying to keep us from heading toward the coast of Somalia. I didn’t care what the reason was. It was so refreshing, like being in a sprinkler on the hottest day of the year. I was like, Oh, don’t leave. This is heaven.
The Leader got up. He was very nervous. “No action, no action,” the Leader was calling into the radio. “No military action, no military action.”
I looked out the aft window and saw a helicopter skid hovering there. It was surreal. It was maybe ten feet away and if I could have jumped and caught it, I would have been free.
“Okay, we’re going to kill the hostage now.”
I looked over at the Leader. He was on the radio. His face was taut.
The helicopters flew off. I could hear the noise of the rotors receding. I didn’t really expect Navy SEALs to rappel down and take the ship. That would have been suicide for them and for me. I just missed the spray, and so did the pirates. It died off as the helicopters left.
The pirates started with the bullshit again.
“There are no pirates in Somalia,” Tall Guy said. “That’s just media. We were hired by the navy and your company’s security officer and your chief mate and engineer knew about it.”
Tall Guy even told me the pirates were bidding on a navy contract to do Raycon work—operating what is essentially an electronic lighthouse off Somalia. He asked me to sign up. “Sure,” I joked, “I’ll work six months with you in the Gulf of Aden.”
As much as I knew it wasn’t true, there was that tiny sliver that wanted to believe. I thought, Maybe this heat is causing me to hallucinate. Maybe this is a drill.
“Tell me something,” I said. “The night before you came, there was someone on our radio saying ‘Somali pirate, Somali pirate.’ Was that you?”
The Leader nodded.
“Yeah. That was me.”
“Somali pirate, Somali pirate, we are coming to get you,” he said, and it was the voice from the radio. He laughed, and the other pirates joined in.
“Nice,” I said.
“I love to see the ship speed up and run away. You guys scare so easy!”
“So you do this all the time?”
“Yeah, all the time. The ship goes into maneuvers, the hoses come on, the lights come on. We watch and laugh about it.”
The other pirates found this hilarious.
“So how much is the ransom you’re asking for?” I asked.
“What do you think?”
“I have no idea. But the Americans won’t pay anything for me. Not a dime. You should know that. You’re going to die on this boat with me. Unless you let me go.”
The Leader stared at me for what must have been a full minute.
“Not true. Americans pay the most.”
I shook my head. “They won’t pay you, but they will let you go. Americans are stupid. We keep our word, unlike you guys. We’ll let you go. If you release me, we’ll even let you keep the boat.”
The Leader just laughed at me.
“How much you worth, Phillips? Two million?” He literally spat. “I would as soon kill you for two million. That’s not even worth my time.”
“That’s nothing? You stole my crew member’s shoes!”
He shook his head.
“I hijacked a Greek ship. I killed the captain, because they only offered me two million.”
The Leader started giving me his whole pirating history. “I took a Lauritzen,” he said. Lauritzen is a French shipping company that specializes in refrigerated cargo. The Leader swore up and down that he’d hijacked one of their ships not too long ago. “I took six million off that.”
“Six million?” I said. “So what are you still doing here?”
I laughed in his face. But he went back into his spiel about going to work on a Greek ship as an AB. He was trying to confuse me, I knew, trying to make me think he was legit so the next time an opening came up, I’d hesitate.
I looked out one of the hatches and saw an inflatable zooming by. It looked like a Zodiac with a few men inside. I thought, We must be near land.
“I see him,” said Tall Guy. “Who is this guy?”
“I am going to lure him onto the boat,” the Leader said. “And then we will kill him.”
“Yes, that would be good,” Musso said. “Get as many people here and kill them all.”
I heard more outboards, zooming this way and that around us. Musso ran over to one of the hatches with the glass broken out.