Fishermen diversify to ferrying aid to Misurata

The fishermen have made their trawlers available for chartering to aid organisations that are desperate to send tonnes of supplies to Misurata.

Already, a number of Malta-flagged trawlers have made the treacherous crossing to Misurata, with at least one crew having a close shave with death.

Charlie is a fisherman from Marsaxlokk who prefers to keep his surname anonymous. As he speaks to me from aboard his trawler at the Grand Harbour, cranes hoist pallets with water, milk, juice, fruit, vegetables and medical supplies into the hold.

This will be his second time transporting aid to Misurata, a port where just a week ago, he was almost blasted by Gaddafi’s Grad-missiles, as they landed just 50 metres away from where he was moored.

“It was really scary, as the bombs landed just metres from us while we slept on the boat,” Charlie explained. “The boat shook and we jumped out of our bunks, dazed and shocked at the horrific sounds...”

One of his crew had the presence of mind to untie the ropes while Charlie started the engines and sped out of the port, heading towards the closest Nato warship approximately 12 miles out from the coast.

Charlie stayed through the night in the shadow of Nato boats and returned to Misurata to pick up evacuees and bring them back to Malta.

But how does the whole operation work?

Charlie has been contracted by volunteers who have formed an aid agency intended to ship humanitarian aid into Libya, specifically into Misurata.

The volunteers – a mix of Libyan and Maltese nationals – are in constant  contact with the rebels who relay lists of materials that are needed.

Misurata has been under siege by Libyan forces for almost two months now. There is no electricity or water, and the rebels have been resisting the brutal onslaught for weeks, often being close to surrender.

Their tenacious resistance has so far barred the Gaddafi forces from advancing towards the Benghazi stronghold. If Misurata falls, a bloodbath is envisaged at the gates of Benghazi.

It’s 9pm and as the humanitarian aid is carefully placed into the trawler’s hold, a volunteer receives a phone call from Misurata, with a desperate plea for ambulances.

The volunteer gestures and shouts to his colleagues, “we need ambulances, they have just hit the last ambulance, can we take one in?”

As the men who were previously handling the cargo stop to listen to what the volunteer was saying, another man who is sitting inside the bridge comes out with his laptop.

“We have 20 ambulances lined up in France and will be shipped out at dawn,” he says. The information is immediately relayed to Misurata.

Charlie is asked if he could take two ambulances on his boat, possibly one on bow and the other on the stern.

“It’s impossible, we are already over our waterline,” he replies, as the volunteers rush to telephone Marseille to ensure the ambulances are shipped by dawn.

The logistics behind such an operation are indeed complex, because it entails serious calculations of risk. “I have to make sure that we are not too heavy to speed through Libyan waters as we head for Misurata. I don’t want any surprises as we enter Libyan territorial waters. Out there, there are Libyan patrol boats which will not hesitate to shoot at us, and I need to have the manoeuvrability to dodge the possibility of attack,” Charlie says.

He goes on to explain how it works from when he leaves the Grand Harbour.

His transponder details are relayed to the Nato command in Naples, informing them on the trip and the cargo on board. That message is relayed to the Nato flotilla out at sea, that is currently ensuring a naval blockade off Libya.

“On the 45^th mile, we radio Nato once again and we are escorted by smaller boats that shadow us for some five miles, as fighter jets are scrambled above us, practically opening a corridor for us leading straight into Misurata.

“Some marines give us the thumbs up and wish us well on our endeavour as they sail alongside us to protect us,” Charlie explains.

He says that he overheard the radio warnings issued by a Nato vessel to a Libyan gun boat that was apparently positioned some six miles ahead of his route into Misurata.

“He gave him three warnings to back-up or face the consequences. The Libyans just turned around and we went ahead.”

The rebels come into contact with the trawler as it approaches port, and they direct it to a mooring which would have been secured by armed pick-up trucks that will escort the aid straight to the hospital and underground food depots.

“Everything is done so fast. No time can be wasted. Docking and unloading at Misurata port is the most dangerous, as one is exposed to attracting the Libyan forces to shell.”

Charlie is all set to leave the Grand Harbour, and as his crew pull off the ropes from the quay to start his 18-hour journey, he asks all to pray for their safe return in two days time.

Charlie is just one of many local fishermen who have had to diversify and be innovative in their work to guarantee a livelihood, as war, calamities and directives have tightened the noose around their necks.

Next month is supposed to be tuna season, a lucrative business from many Maltese, French and Italian fishermen.

This year, the prospects for fishing for tuna in the Mediterranean are looking bleak, and ferrying aid is the only way to survive right now.