The Pirates of Somalia_ Inside Their Hidden World - Jay Bahadur [98]
The ship’s fuel woes also explained why the Victoria’s distance from shore continually oscillated, giving the appearance—from my vantage point on Eyl’s beach—that she was being swept back and forth by the tides. Shortly before I arrived in Eyl, the ship’s supply of diesel had run out, and the auxiliary generator, which had powered the ship’s lights and mess facilities while anchored, sputtered to a halt. In order to generate electricity, the crew re-engaged the main engine, and with it the main propeller, forcing the Victoria to weigh anchor and chart continual circles in the harbour.
Using a four-thousand-kilowatt engine as a generator was an extremely inefficient way of powering light bulbs and kitchen elements, and it was not sustainable for long. Shortly after I left Eyl, on June 20, the ship’s reservoir of bunker fuel (the crude oil by-product consumed by the main engine) was exhausted. The prospect of losing the Victoria’s floodlights—a critical defensive resource in case of attack—was not an option for the pirates. So they resorted to transporting small amounts of diesel from shore to power the vessel’s emergency generator during the night. For the final month of the ship’s captivity, the emergency generator provided limited power for its occupants’ basic daily needs.
As for the pirates, their daily activities were predictable enough. “They chewed a drug that made their eyes wide, like this,” said Levenescu, using his fingers to spread his eyelids in imitation. “They wouldn’t sleep for thirty or forty hours at a time. The supply boat came three times per day to bring that fucking khat. There was only one pirate who didn’t chew: the cook. But in the end, even he started.” The pirates partnered the khat with the habitual hyper-sweet tea, having brought three kilograms of sugar on board with them. One time, said Levenescu, they substituted 7-Up for their tea, but did not alter their routine, heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the soft drink as well.5 Levenescu had also experimented with the drug. “A bit,” he said, gagging at the memory. “They all ate a lot.”
One pragmatic effect of the khat was its ability to keep the pirates alert and ready. Staying awake late into the night, the pirates would routinely shoot off their Kalashnikovs for amusement. According to Levenescu, their on-board arsenal consisted of two RPG launchers, two Russian standard-issue machine guns (PKMs), and an AK-47 for each man. But the gang did not seriously expect to fight off an international naval assault with this weaponry. “They were more worried about attacks from other Somali pirates, not the navy ships,” said Levenescu. Yet again, Boyah’s claims of pirate solidarity and mutual affection did not seem to match the reality.
Having heard so much about the eccentric Computer from Hersi, I eagerly asked Levenescu for his impressions of the man. But it seemed Computer was an elusive, shadowy figure even to the Victoria’s crew. “They spoke a lot about their leader,” said Levenescu. “But I don’t think he even existed. I think they made all their decisions as a group.” On the day the ransom was delivered, however, the entire gang assembled on the deck of the Victoria. “There was an older man aboard then, about fifty years,” said Levenescu. “He was dressed like a garbage man. If there was a leader, it was him.” There is little doubt that the shabby figure Levenescu described was Computer. If, as Hersi claimed, Computer had served as a police lieutenant under the former Somali Republic, he would probably be in his mid-to-late fifties.
When the pirates finally departed, they left the Victoria in much worse shape than her crew. “The ship was a mess,” said Levenescu. “There was trash everywhere. In the end, they stole everything from us—laptops, cellphones. But they did give us back our SIM cards.”
On July 18, the Victoria was finally released.