The Pirates of Somalia_ Inside Their Hidden World - Jay Bahadur [99]
If Levenescu had been irrevocably damaged by his ordeal, he concealed it well. “It wasn’t a difficult psychological experience for me,” he said. “Maybe it was different for the others. I don’t know. I guess I appreciate life a little more,” he added, shrugging.
Levenescu certainly had no plans to abandon his career path; as a matter of fact, I was lucky to catch him a few days before he shipped out on his next assignment. But he made it clear that he would not be returning to Somalia: “No way. Never again.”
* * *
The next day, in a diner on the other side of the country, Teddy and I met with Levenescu’s commanding officer and the Victoria’s chief mate, Traian Vasile Mihai—or, as he playfully called himself, “Chief.” Mihai looked to be in his early fifties, short and squat, with a drooping moustache and thinning hair. The lines of his face were imbued with mirth, his eyes lively and jovial. Like Levenescu, he declined to order any food, leaving me alone to munch on a chicken and ketchup sandwich between my questions.
Though posted to the same ship as Levenescu, Mihai was born of a different age; lighting one cigarette after another, he wistfully reminisced about the past glory of NAVROM, the state-owned shipping fleet active during the rule of Communist-era dictator Nicolae Ceauşescu. “Romania had a merchant marine of 345 ships at that time,” he sighed. “Now, nothing.” After about five minutes, I managed to steer the conversation to the subject of the Victoria’s capture.
Following the pirate takeover, said Mihai, he, Captain Tinu, and the second mate Sarchizian were the only three crew who remained on active duty—though “forced labour” was perhaps a more accurate description. Serving six- to eight-hour shifts, Mihai’s principal responsibility was to keep watch on the bridge and monitor the radar for possible threats to the pirates. One night, he detected a small vessel approaching, which he dutifully reported to his captors.
“What is that? What’s its name?” they asked him.
“How am I supposed to know?” he retorted, gesticulating at an imaginary radar display. “It’s a radar! It tells you the position, course, speed—no problem. But that’s it.”
Mihai chuckled at the recollection. “Everyone ran outside to the edge of the ship, pointing their guns. ‘If they come closer, we’ll just kill them,’ the pirates said. Then they hailed the ship on the VHF [high frequency radio] in the Somali language, checking to see if it was one of their own,” said Mihai. In the end, the situation was resolved without violence. It is possible that this incident was the alleged “American attack” described by Hersi. For his part, Mihai hypothesized that the unknown vessel was a Somali fishing boat—far more likely than an American warship attempting to sneak up on the pirates in the middle of the night.
One night, about a week after arriving at Eyl, the Chief was serving his watch shift on the bridge. At around midnight, several pirates barged in and demanded that he start the main engine and set an immediate course for the south. Mihai hurriedly tried to explain to non-receptive ears that the main engine required half an hour to warm up before it could be engaged.6
“ ‘It’s not a car,’ I told them,” he said, miming the act of turning a key in an ignition. “ ‘You can’t just start it and go. It’s impossible!’ ‘No, now!’ they said.” Pleading that he had no authority to order a course change, Mihai hastily summoned Captain Tinu to the bridge. When he arrived,