The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
At dawn on 25 March he will strike back against Cataldo. He has prepared an unexpected manoeuvre. Not everyone in Sea Shepherd will approve of Peter Hammarstedt’s next move.
31
THE THIRD SHIP
THE COAST OF CENTRAL AFRICA, MARCH 2015
Shipmaster Steve Paku on the Atlas Cove worked out that the trip from the shipyard in Raudeberg on the west coast of Norway to Port Louis in Mauritius would take 28 days.
The 68-metre-long Atlas Cove was the most recent new acquisition of Austral Fisheries’ fleet of toothfish vessels. For four months the ship had undergone extensive rebuilding to equip it fully for the upcoming longline fishing expedition in the Antarctic. When the shiny, freshly painted vessel reaches the coast of Portugal, the shipmaster receives a phone call from Director David Carter of Austral Fisheries.1
Carter tells him about the chase currently taking place off the coast of Central Africa. The Atlas Cove is already running late for the summer season in the Southern Ocean, and now Carter asks the shipmaster to make a detour to join the chase for the Thunder.
“Oh shit,” the Atlas Cove’s captain Steve Paku replies.
“Sea Shepherd is doing the job that we and the authorities should have done. But I know what you’re thinking,” Carter says.
After his initial hesitant objections, Paku goes along with changing course. He has had a run in with the Thunder himself in the Southern Ocean.
“And don’t do anything stupid,” Carter concludes.
Austral Fisheries’ Japanese part-owners were shocked and terrified about what would happen if they were to form any kind of collaboration whatsoever with the environmental organization that terrorized the country’s own whaling fleet. But Carter stuck to his guns and assured them it would have a positive public relations effect.
Like the majority of the stakeholders in the toothfish industry, Carter also knew that his own shipmasters were sceptical of people who lived on vegetables and soybeans. But now it was about business.
The illegal fishing also gave toothfish a bad name. Buyers long believed the fish to be in danger of extinction. For a period of time in Australia, convincing restaurant patrons to order toothfish was paramount to requesting they consume panda bear cubs.
“What the devil is this?”
As the oceanic space is filled with light, Juan Manuel Patiño Lampon sees a movement on the radar.
It is eight o’clock in the morning on 25 March. The Thunder’s fishing captain has just turned up for the morning shift. He is wearing his glasses with the thin steel frames, and around his left wrist hangs a silver chain. As usual, he is wearing his watch on his right wrist.
The ship that has suddenly become visible on the radar is located 3 nautical miles away. It is coming from the north and is on a collision course. On board the Thunder the sight of any vessel, either on the radar or visually, provokes a testy uneasiness among the officers.
There have been enough trials in the past 24 hours. The Sam Simon arrived from Mauritius; throughout the entire previous day dinghies transported supplies to the Bob Barker – the first in 112 days.
Lampon feared that they would also receive more fuel and prepared to navigate the Thunder in between to obstruct the operation. But all he saw were crates of fruit and vegetables being winched on board the Bob Barker.
Now both the Sea Shepherd ships are behind him. He also sees a third ship on the radar. Juan Manuel Patiño Lampon calms himself by deciding that ship is probably headed for a fishing bank.
“The idea is for the Atlas Cove to swing in, take up position on the starboard quarter and then we will have three ships in formation following the Thunder.”
At the morning meeting on the Bob Barker Hammarstedt tells the crew about the fishing boat that is on its way to join the chase. Radio silence between the ships has been ordered so the Thunder won’t become suspicious about what is about to take place. The Atlas Cove is already on the radar and will be with them in half an hour. Then it won’t be only two ships, but two worlds that meet. Hammarstedt wants the crew to go on deck and wave the Atlas Cove welcome, but he doesn’t want to force anyone. A number of the activists on board are against fishing, whether it be illegal or legal.
“We are not out to stop the fishing of toothfish, but the illegal fishing. We have been waiting for the authorities for 100 days without any response. We need all the allies we can find. Now we will have the support of the fishermen. Who are we not to accept that?” Hammarstedt says. Nobody objects.
As the Atlas Cove approaches the Bob Barker’s stern, the mate veers the ship suddenly up towards the Thunder. The entire crew of the Bob Barker is lined up on the bridge.
“It’s good to be looking at a vessel that isn’t the Thunder,” Hammarstedt says over the radio.
“It’s just one mammoth effort there, Peter. I’ve seen this vessel around Heard Island … Be a good eight years ago,” Steve Paku, the shipmaster of the Atlas Cove, says.
“We’re just hoping to knock them out one by one,” Hammarstedt says.
Then he orders the ships into formation and asks them to stay a quarter of a nautical mile behind the Thunder. Once again he
