The Albatros And The Pirates Of Galguduud

Chapter Three

“Mohammed!”

The man being called quickly went to his boss’ office. There was no mistaking the deep roar he had in his voice. It always seemed on the verge of breaking, but he always finished his sentences.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Did you take care of Mukhtar?”

“Yes, Sir. We paid them and I have given him the necessary instructions so that they will be available again in a couple of weeks.”

“Good,” he growled. “He’d better not disappear or try to pull a fast one. Are they being watched?”

Mohammed nodded.

“There are lots of freebooters in Somalia,” continued his boss. “But this kid is special, and after everything we’ve spent training them, I don’t want to lose them and have to start from scratch. Are you sure he doesn’t know who you are?”

“Absolutely, Sir. We’ve never seen each other, and I’ve led him to believe I represent a Western insurance company.”

“Very well, no one can link us to them. No one, do you understand?”

Mohammed nodded fervently.

#

Pablo and Reyes sat in Guerra’s office waiting room. The previous day they had begun working and had been discussing possible modifications to the ship.

They had both decided to propose their requirements to the shipbuilders and let them come up with the solutions. After all, that was their job. Pablo had insisted on speed. BAMs, as the Navy had conceived them, had two great advantages: autonomy and low fuel consumption. With twin screw propellers, one on the port side and one on the starboard side, and a diesel engine for each shaft, they could reach a maximum speed of twenty knots without excessive expense. In addition, each shaft also had an electric motor that got its energy from the power generation system on board (four generator motors), which had very low fuel consumption.

However, Pablo wanted a faster boat, and Reyes didn’t think Gotthelf would mind the extra expense. Neither of them was an expert on the subject, so they wanted to present the problem to the engineers and see what solution they offered. Pablo was hoping just a minor modification would be enough since he knew that a major change to the propulsion plant could delay the delivery date of the ship considerably.

He also knew there was another option. One that was used by the Navy to propel their escort ships: gas turbines. Derived from aircraft engines, turbines provided much more power and were generally more reliable, but their fuel consumption was through the roof. Besides, he had never heard of such a small vessel ever being propelled by turbines because space could be an issue.

The other means of propulsion used by the Navy was nuclear, but that was completely unfeasible. Only the large submarines, cruisers and aircraft carriers of some navies used it.

As far as weapons, they had been discussing the usefulness of a 3-inch gun. Reyes maintained that it was a very important deterrent, but Pablo insisted that they needed a weapons system that would provide them accuracy above everything else. For him, the ability to hit a small and fast target from relatively far away was essential, while firepower was much less important. He was tired of reading about incidents in which the inability to discern whether the shot would hit the outboard motor or the pirate ended up in not being able to open fire.

BAMs were by far the Navy’s ships that were better equipped for this kind of scenario, with two 25 mm machine guns remotely operated from the combat information center (adjacent to the bridge), and controlled by an electro-optical fire control system (basically a camera and a computer for the computations), a laser range finder, and a fire control radar1. In addition, the associated camera could be used for search and track purposes. They also had planned to bring numerous small arms on board. However, Pablo wanted that kind of precision in all his weapons.

In any case, they had decided to voice their concerns to Guerra to find out if he could come up with any solutions, and Reyes had called a friend in the world of naval armament to see if he knew of anything that could help them.

They had also decided to give Guerra a list of the unnecessary equipment and asked him to give them a series of proposals on how to maximize space utilization. In addition to what Pablo had said when they met, they thought they also would not need some of the communications equipment, especially that which was specifically for military use.

Finally, Pablo thought it was necessary to have an extra RHIB just in case. The boat had two, with specific stowage places and lifting cranes to lower them into the water, but in a somewhat long mission if one of them broke down it could leave them high and dry. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to store one in case they needed it. They had also raised the possibility of a faster launching system like the ones the US Coast Guard used. This consisted of a small jetty or beach in the stern of the boat from which to drop the RHIB into the water. The problem was the practicality of the work at this stage.

A few minutes later, Guerra invited them into his modest office. Nothing like Gotthelf’s, Reyes thought. After they shared their concerns, his first reaction was not entirely positive, as this could pose a significant workload. However, he immediately reacted recalling that, after all, they were his clients. Then, Reyes and Pablo could see his face light up as he got to work. It was clear what part of his job he truly enjoyed.

“Well gentlemen,” the engineer said. “I'm glad to see that you have thought about it and that you know exactly what you want. As you know, what’s going to give us the most trouble is the propulsion system. I will raise the issue to that department and see what they tell us. In any case, here in Puerto Real we only work with diesel engines, as for the turbine, which by the way strikes me as very ambitious, we would have to contact our branch in Ferrol. And what’s more, acquiring a turbine is always more complicated than a diesel. Virtually only Rolls Royce and General Electric make turbines for ships.“

“As for the cannon,” continued Guerra, “I can try to get something from the arms companies that we usually deal with but I have no record of anything like what you’re asking for, either in Spain or abroad. Removing some of the equipment and the extra RHIB shouldn’t be a problem.”

Reyes took the floor, “Excellent Mr. Guerra! We’ll let you get back to work. We’ll keep in touch, but if anything comes up please call me with any news. And when you can, please give me an estimate of when the boat will be ready.”

“Will do.”

The two men were heading towards the door when Reyes recalled the other decision they had made.

“Oh, one last thing. We will call it Albatros.”

#

A couple of hours later, Reyes and Pablo addressed the next issue, the crew. Reyes, the methodical man that he was, wanted to organize the work before they began.

“What do we need?” he asked almost rhetorically. “What is of most importance?”

Pablo thought a moment and replied, “Given the direction of the enterprise we’re about to undertake, I think it makes sense to base our crew on a military model. In that case, it’s clear we should begin with the officers. It takes at least three that are trained to keep watch on the bridge and who could also take the lead in the different departments or divisions. We can also adopt these three divisions from the Navy: Deck and Navigation (including communications), Operations (sensors and weapons), and Engineering. We also need someone to take care of procurement and habitability, and a doctor or at least a watchful nurse. Finally, we need one or two helicopter pilots, even though we don’t yet have a chopper, and a leader for our boarding team. I don’t think we’ve left anything out.”

“No, I think you’ve thought of everything,” Reyes smiled, thinking that without Pablo he’d be rather lost. “And how do you suggest we go about finding them?”

“Good question.”

Pablo stopped to think for a moment and just when Reyes feared he would not come up with an answer he said, “I only have experience with seamen, so if you trust me, I’ll take care of the deck officers. You’ll have to handle the rest, though I’ll help you when I can.”

Reyes thought it was a great proposal but he had no idea how he would address his tasks.

“Sounds good. In that case, I’ll go to Madrid to find a pilot, a doctor, an accountant or at least a bookkeeper, and someone skilled in hand to hand combat. Am I forgetting anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Pablo replied.

“As I said, I’ll call you when I have a suitable candidate so you can give me your opinion. I suggest you do the same.”

“Perfect.”

#

A couple of days later, Pablo and Nacho were again at the Terraza, this time accompanied by Javi. Pablo had invited them out for some beers with the excuse of his new job, but his real purpose was to find out what his brothers thought. He valued their opinion both professionally and personally.

Sometimes, his relationship with his brothers surprised him. He didn’t know of anyone who at their age continued being as close with their siblings as they were. They kept in contact as much as they could, which, given their lines of work, was less than what they would have liked. But each one of them knew he could count on the others anytime he needed anything.

Everyone felt at home at the other’s houses, and Pablo’s sisters in law had become his new sisters, while his nephews had become a mix of his own children and much younger siblings.

Every time he thought about it he couldn’t help thinking that Mom and Dad must have done something right.

There were the three, so different and yet so similar. Physically they were alike, tall and strong, swarthy skin and hair, dark eyes, and the three resembled both their mom and dad. Javi was the one who looked most like Mom’s side of the family and was chunkier. Nacho was an almost exact mix of the two, but with Mom’s facial expressions and Pablo looked more like Dad, but he didn’t have his personality. Javi had inherited his mom’s traits. Like her, he was not very organized but quite intuitive and perhaps somewhat smarter than others and as a result of five years of Naval School, he was also responsible, intelligent and practical. Nacho was similar but more serious and less free-spirited. Pablo also had all those traits, but in him, they were spiced by an insatiable hunger for change and adventure. Maybe that's why they were the naval officers but he... well, he still wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was.

His other two brothers, Pedro and Jorge, were economist and P.E. teacher, respectively. Pedro was the quietest and least active of the five but, as always, he managed to find a job that paid amazingly well and didn’t require much effort on his part. Jorge, who was built like a tank, had always wanted to be a seaman, but after his teenage years, he realized he loved children and teaching. Thus, he had become a terrific P.E. teacher that kids adored, and led a simple life that made him very happy.

Pablo had a very good relationship with Pedro and Jorge, but nothing compared to what he had with his older brothers. He didn’t know what it was. Whether it was the passion for the sea or the desire to serve Spain or a higher purpose, or any of those things that their jobs had in common, but they just got along.

That was why he was now sitting on a terrace with the two men whose opinion he respected the most. He still remembered the best thing about finishing his career and becoming a seaman was the pride he felt being allowed to belong to his brothers’ prestigious club. Sometimes their father presided, but it was usually composed of just the three of them. Dad had to maintain a more impartial relationship with the rest of the family, but the three of them couldn’t help huddling together at every family event.

He couldn’t put it into words but it was a very strong bond based on shared experiences at sea and in the command of men.

Javi left his mug on the table as he savored his drink and said, “Well Pablo, it seems your dreams have finally come true. Thank God, because very few people with such complicated dreams ever see them fulfilled. Man, you're like the Cristiano Ronaldo of the seamen.”

Pablo smiled. He knew his brother was genuinely happy for him and that he may even be a little envious. Javi never regretted having become a Navy officer, but he had always dreamed of the opportunity to do something like this. Someone once said that servicemen are peaceful but not pacifists. As a general rule, they don’t want to start a conflict. They know better than anyone else of their negative consequences but they’re not against the use of force if necessary. He also knew, because of his brothers, the struggle felt by having, on the one hand, the dream of defending your country against the enemy, and on the other the hope that your nation will not go to war.

Nacho probably felt the same way, but he was not as disillusioned as Javi. Besides, he was commanding, the goal and dream of every seaman and therefore, delighted with his work at the moment.

It was ironic. Probably every commander and officer in the Navy dreamed of going to Somalia with the kind of orders that Albatros was going to have.

“Well, there’s still much to be done, and my role in this remains to be seen,” Pablo said, somewhere between cautious and humble.

“How did it go the other day?” Nacho asked.

“Really well,” answered Pablo. “After agreeing on the changes we wanted to make to the boat we went to Navantia and talked to the manager. I don’t know how much that Swiss guy is paying but we were treated like kings. All smooth sailing and to top it off they were all helpful and friendly.”

“I’m still amazed at your luck,” Javi smiled as he took another sip of his beer. “I just hope they treat you better than us. If not, forget about having that boat ready in less than fifteen months.”

Being a seaman and criticizing the shipbuilders went hand in hand like Bonnie and Clyde. Pablo also feared that a delay on the Puerto Real dockyard would end the project before it ever began.

“Now what?” Nacho asked. “Just wait?”

“No,” laughed Pablo. “My new boss has gone to Madrid to find a pilot, a doctor, an accountant, among others. Meanwhile, I have to find three guys able to act as officers on the bridge and, if possible, lead a department like yours: A chief engineer, an operations officer, and a head of the deck and navigation department.”

“Wow!” Javi couldn’t help exclaiming. “I hope there’s a shortage of doctors and pilots in Madrid because otherwise, I don’t see how you’re going to find your three guys before your boss finds his.”

Pablo thought the same but at least this way he had some options. If he had to get all the other officers as well, he would have been completely lost.

“This is better than having to find doctors and pilots,” he said, defending himself.

“You have a point,” Javi said.

In addition, Pablo knew that to find naval officers he could not only rely on his own experience but also on that of his brothers. That was another reason for the meeting.

“If you had told me this years ago,” Javi said, “I would have gone with you in a heartbeat. But now…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Pablo knew what he meant. The idea of adding his brothers to his dream come true had crossed his mind, but he knew that it was impossible. As good Navy officers, they would never leave their jobs2.

Nacho broke the silence he had maintained since Pablo mentioned his search for officials.

“I may know someone you might want to meet. And this is the second time I’ve said that to someone about your new project,” smiled the second of the Marzán brothers.

Nacho’s silence wasn’t because he was enjoying his Cruzcampo or because of the scenery. He had been deciding whether or not to introduce his candidate to Pablo. Not because he wasn’t suitable, Nacho was sure that he was the best he could find, but exactly because he was so good he might steal the spotlight from his brother as far as being the captain of Albatros. And he knew that although he was excited about the project, Pablo couldn’t help thinking about commanding that ship. He knew it because he would feel the same way, and Javi would too.

For his part, Pablo suppressed leaping for joy. A possible candidate this soon was more than he had ever expected.

“Who is it?” he asked.

Nacho sighed. There was no turning back.

“His name is Gabi Huesca Perez,” and that’s all he said. He knew Javi would finish the story.

“Is that the number one from your class at the academy that just got fired because the ship he was commanding was grounded?” the eldest of the brothers asked.

Nacho was right, the Navy was a great little family and everyone knew each other.

“One and the same. I just came from the trial in Madrid. The verdict said something to the effect that it’s not his fault but as he was the commander he is responsible.”

He said no more. The comment was not intended as criticism. Everyone knew you didn’t delegate responsibility. A commanding officer is fully responsible for everything that happens.

Nacho continued, “Apparently it was night. He was sleeping. His Executive Officer3 was on duty and drove the boat into a rock. The breach was so great that they almost sank right then and there. And they’re saying there’s no way to fix it. It’s unbelievable! He told me that as soon as he took command he knew that Lieutenant Junior Grade was useless. But it’s like everything. You can’t do anything about it, but if something happens it’s your fault.”

Pablo didn’t interrupt. He knew full well how hard it was for Nacho to see something happen to a colleague knowing that the same could happen to him at any time. What’s more, he remembered Gabi, Nacho and him were great friends. The fact of having fought for being number one in class for five years at the Naval School had not affected a great friendship.

“Anyway,” continued Nacho, “he’s obviously out of work now. But he has been in command although it was cut short. Also, he’s been in Somalia a couple of times on board Castilla and Alvaro de Bazan if I’m not mistaken.”

“Sounds perfect,” Pablo said. And his expression showed that he too realized Gabi could become a rival. “Do you think he’ll like the project?”

“I don’t know,” Nacho said. “He’s going through a tough time. It depends on how I present it. But let me tell you, he’s the best of the best. I don’t know anyone better than he is, besides Javi.”

The oldest of the three bowed his head feeling somewhere between grateful and embarrassed.

“I’ve also heard very good things about him, though we have never met.”

Pablo had already made a decision. As incredible as it seemed (he had even surprised himself), he had come to the conclusion that if Gabi was better than him, then he should be the captain. And if he wasn’t, then by Nacho’s description, he would make the perfect right-hand man.

“Give me his number.”

#

The next morning, Pablo was driving his VW Golf along the road to Rota. There had been an idea running through his head for the last couple of days. And the day before, he had talked about it to his brothers. After thinking it over and weighing pros and cons, they had encouraged him to try it.

That was why he was going to Grease’s Auto Repair Shop in the town of Rota. The owner, Thomas “Grease” Johnson had been a senior chief (non commissioned officer) mechanic in the US Navy who had retired early at 45 to set up a garage next to the neighboring Rota Naval Base.

The Texan was in love with Spain, and his knowledge of Spanish (as spoken in Texas and some parts of Florida) together with his expertise in engines had turned his workshop into a favorite of Americans on the Base and half the people in Rota.

Pablo had met him while Grease was practicing his other hobby, sailing. No one would have thought that a Texan who loved spark plugs and pistons would be so passionate about a sport that used none of those things. But Pablo knew very few trimmers as good as he was.

Fate had wanted them to be part of the same racing crew for three years and Pablo wanted to exploit that relationship to make the Yankee an unexpected offer.

He had no doubt Grease was the right man to be Albatros’ chief engineer. But even if he knew how to navigate perfectly, the American had no title that allowed him to act as deck officer on a ship of those characteristics. However, he had decided to take it one step at a time. He would solve the deck officers issue later. For now, getting a good chief engineer was essential.

While Pablo parked the car he thought he was having too much luck to try to push it. Someday it would have to end.

With a pull of the parking brake, he erased the bad omens in his mind and got out of the car. When he was a few feet from the shop, a middle-aged man with brown hair, large but not fat, medium height with light skin and eyes and a small mustache under a small nose came in and greeted him with a slight American accent.