Third Officer
After finishing the Odessa nautical school, Perov worked on container ships of the Danube Shipping Company, where he rose to third officer. He got along easily with crews, but not always with captains - he protested against the theft of provisions from the common pot. He resigned from the Danube Shipping Company also because he had no place to live, and commuting to Dniprodzerzhynsk every time was costly.
A classmate from the nautical school gave him the address of the Odessa intermediary company "S. S.", which was recruiting crews for Greek ships. Perov brought his documents; chief manager Kushch quickly flipped through the certificates and stunned him with deliberate solemnity: "You will go on the 'Hercules', it is unloading sugar in Algeria. Everyone dreams of getting on this steamer! Get your things and go to 'S. S.' immediately!" Perov was handed a booking list for purchasing a ticket. He was to fly with chief officer Demezhko. In the evening he called the chief officer in Belgorod-Dnestrovsky.
"He left with another firm," said Demezhko's wife. "Better not get involved with Kushch."
This puzzled him. A couple of days later, they called it off again.
"Grigory Kragakis said there are problems with the visa," Kushch's wife conveyed, as the boss himself was away. "Wait for your visa, don't worry!"
Captain Kragakis, who had made himself at home in the S. S. office, was a consultant from the Greek side. Finally Kushch arrived and said:
"We are already processing your visas, but the situation in Algeria has escalated, and military operations are continuing there."
By the way, an Algerian visa costs 370 dinars, which at the exchange rate is $7, but they fleeced $105 from Perov. Finally they gave him the ticket, and Kushch explained how to get there. In the corner, a woman was quietly crying. When they left the office, she said that her husband had called from Port Said; there was no water on his ship, no electricity, and no promise of pay. In Port Said, the ship "Thetis" of this same Greek shipping company Lek Shipping, owned by Dimitrios Skafidi, had been arrested; a third vessel, a small container ship, had also been arrested somewhere in South Africa. He found out too late; he had no money left, he had gone into debt, and he had to fly to Algeria.
He flew in: palm trees, velvet sky, oriental music intricately swirling like a man's lament, the airport cordoned off by armored personnel carriers. A police officer explained that the country was restless, fundamentalists were up to mischief. His bag was missing from the luggage; as it turned out, it had been left behind in Tunis. His belongings caught up with him only a week later. The airport was locked at night, and he was escorted out. It was about three hundred meters to walk to the domestic airport, but the police advised against it; he might not make it. The officer understood the situation and said:
"Go, I will watch you through the scope."
He made it to Bejaia, found the office of the agency firm MTA, which supplied the ship with provisions and other services, and found the clerks having a meal.
"I have not seen such a ship in my twenty-five years of practice," admitted the "black" agent Bakri. "The ship will never leave port. My advice to you is to leave for home immediately."
He stepped onto the ship when the Burmese, the deck crew, were cleaning the holds after unloading Mexican sugar. The lightened "Hercules" had risen out of the water. The hull was covered with patches of rust, and water oozed from the scupper. A crow was scratching in a pile of garbage on the poop deck; white worms as thick as a finger crawled along the deck planking; little Burmese in skirts scurried about; smoke curled - they had made a fire right on deck and were cooking rice. The superstructure, in contrast, shone with whiteness - apparently, it had recently been painted.
He opened the door of the captain's cabin; there was a gray-haired, gaunt gentleman.
"I know, Yuri, you are Russian," said Captain Costa Losakas. "Marx, Lenin, Stalin... Yuri, everything is fine, there is no money." Perov noticed that the captain was tipsy. He presented his documents and the posting order; the captain pushed them aside. "No documents needed. The shipowner is a bandit, a scoundrel, there is no food at all. Yuri, there is absolutely nothing to do here. How long did you fly, four days? You will rest for a month. Yuri, you Russians drink a lot. When Russians get drunk, they stage a revolution. Please don't drink. Would you like a little glass of ouzo?"
Second Officer
The captain opened the second officer's cabin:
"You will live here."
"And from whom do I take over?"
"From no one. There is no second officer, no third officer..."
A man soaking wet came in.
"This is the chief officer."
"Are you Russian?" asked the wet man.
"Are you also Russian?"
"No, I am Bulgarian. Yuri, you have landed in a porno. The 'Hercules' is a floating coffin; it is dangerous to go to sea on it. What did you graduate from? Yuri, you don't need to know anything here. They owe me 15 thousand for ten months, and the Burmese for almost three years."
And the chief officer told the story...
His predecessor, a Romanian chief officer, had run away in Port Said. Only the engine and bridge personnel were paid, and with delays; the Burmese were not paid at all. The owner ordered to sail to Saigon, promising a bonus and premiums. From Saigon, the officers - the Greeks - flew home. In the Greeks' contracts, more contingencies are specified than for hired hands of other nationalities. If the Greeks themselves run away, that is a sign of the company's bankruptcy. Bulgarians were sent to replace the Greeks.
The ship set course for the Ivory Coast. The seals of the hatch covers were chewed up, and the cargo got wet. In the Gulf of Guinea, two hundred tons of blackened rice were thrown overboard.
The previous captain, also of Greek origin, rejected financial claims. "I have my own money," he said, "you have yours." If they pestered him, he grabbed a hammer; a Beretta revolver lay in a prominent place in the cabin.
From Abidjan they went to Veracruz, spending two weeks loading sugar. Radio operator Yordan Ganchev sent requests for provisions by radio; the captain crossed out half of the items.
The captain was sitting on his packed suitcases, waiting for his settlement. They arrived with cargo at Freeport in the Bahamas; the captain received confirmation from his wife in London that his salary had been transferred to a bank account. True, Skafidi had cheated his compatriot out of one month's salary; the captain was very upset, threw the hammer overboard, and flew off distressed. The captain's salary was $4,700; the loss was significant.
The new captain, Costa Losakas, flew to the Bahamas and ran into a strike; the crew refused to move on. Losakas sympathized with the crew, admitted that he knew the owner, they live next door to each other in Piraeus, almost on the same lane. Losakas let slip: the owner's father had 15 ships, the son has only three old wrecks left, there are also two hotels in Piraeus, the son dabbles in roulette...
Chief mate Alexander Stefanov demanded that the captain have a company representative fly to the Bahamas immediately, otherwise they would not sail, and threatened with the international transport workers' union ITF.
About two weeks later, a courier from Lek shipping, one Varchalamos, flew to Freeport. He went around the cabins, speaking with each person behind a tightly closed door. The starting amount he offered the officers was $2,000. The bargaining dragged on. Varchalamos urged Stefanov to take 10 thousand for now, instead of the thirty-four thousand he was owed. The chief mate got drunk in a bar and agreed.
The boatswain had been on board for 24 months and was inciting the deck crew to sabotage. The owner was informed. To avoid unrest, the boatswain was paid in full and flew home. Second mate Vasily Rainov, of retirement age, fell into the water, had a microstroke, and also flew away.
The fourth engineer of the "Herakles" got half his salary and flew away at his own expense. The Burmese were paid $200 each and given a guarantee letter promising a bonus of $150 every month.
A contract was also concluded with third mate Tepcho and chief mate Stefanov, backed by a guarantee letter. If they safely brought the ship to Gibraltar, the company promised to send replacements, 50% of the salary, and plane tickets to Sofia. Only 19 people continued the voyage.
The ballast tanks had leaked, water seeped into the holds. A hundred miles from Gibraltar, the list reached ten degrees; they lay adrift, seemingly sinking for real. The crew watched; the crew had nothing against it if the "Herakles" gurgled down in a convenient spot, especially since the area was busy and the Moroccan coast was beyond the horizon. Although the water in May was not the most suitable for swimming, about 13 degrees, Yordan Ganchev jumped overboard and plugged the hole with a piece of meat with fat; there is such a proven maritime method. They put a cement box on the leak and limped to Bejaia, where they tied up on May 4.
The promised replacement and salary in Gibraltar for the third engineer and the senior officer were, of course, also not there in Bejaia. When there were 9,000 tons of sugar left in the holds, they stopped unloading and declared a strike. The engine crew, consisting of Montenegrins, did not take part in the strike; the Montenegrins sailed without contracts and had no rights.
The authorities demanded that the berth be vacated, and for two weeks the "Herakles" stood at anchor. The maritime union in Algeria has no influence. Now they were kicking themselves for not having contacted the ITF in the Bahamas, having missed their last chance. They received a most amusing fax from the owner: "Seafarers of the "Geakl-I"! You are my children, my blood, your children are my children. I myself was a captain, stood on the bridge, now I am the manager of the company. I have been in the maritime business for 30 years, and in all these years not a single seafarer in Lek shipping has lost a cent. All your money will be paid, vacation vouchers to a resort anywhere in the world await you, just unload the sugar. Sincerely, Dimitrios Skafidi."
On June 6, third mate Tepcho left; he became the last seafarer to leave the ship at the company's expense. Of course, Kushch was informed of the unrest on board, which is why Perov's departure was postponed in those very days, and they lied to Yuri that there were difficulties with the visa.
On the third day of Perov's stay on board, the ship was arrested and the radio station was turned off. Disbursement, port charges, expenses for food, fuel, water, totaled $45,000. Agent Bakri brought supplies for the last time. The provisions lasted for a week. They got up early, before the heat, and went to the captain.
"Kalimera," Yuri greeted. "Hello, comrades! This is Moscow calling!" replied Captain Losakas.
The captain liked to clown around, sang, demonstrated Greek national dances with squats to Perov, complained that he often ended up on bad ships, worked with losers. Losakas, by the way, also did not sign contracts with the company, just like the Montenegrins.
Zelko, a Montenegrin, a Chetnik who had fought in Croatia, asked Losakas gloomily: "Captain, where is my money and the money of my children?" "Skafidi is shit!" the Bulgarians swore. "Get ready a wheelchair," Montenegrin Ivan hissed to the captain. "Tomorrow we'll make broth from your leg."
The captain frowned and withdrew. They went begging from ship to ship: Losakas to Greek steamers, the Bulgarians to Bulgarian or Russian ships together with Perov, Zelko to Yugoslav ships; the former Chetnik avoided Croatian ships by a wide margin, as he could be recognized there. The Burmese fished with an oily smell.
Near every ship stood sentries with AKS automatic rifles; moving around the port area was forbidden, and they sneaked past the clatter of bolts. They knew the Algerians were allowed to shoot, but they also knew the soldiers were hungry, so they shared their spoils with the guards. Local television regularly reported terrorist attacks. It was forbidden to carry food in bags in the port. An exception was made for Perov; he was often seen with a bag.
Algerian pilots told the navigators that a Russian was in trouble on board a Greek ship, so often a care package was already waiting for Yuri near the gangway. Murmansk residents, Balts, and Leningraders responded.
"Tell us straight," they pressed, "what do you need: soap, cigarettes, washing powder, razor blades?" It happened that the entire crew of a ship under a foreign flag was Russian, then the captain ordered an additional meal in the galley for 19 more mouths, or at least the first course, and Perov, like Gulliver, with his height near 190 cm, led a brood of Burmese to feed.
Thanks to Perov, the Burmese tasted buckwheat for the first time in their lives. Once he brought hot pepper in jars, which they couldn't eat on the Novorossiysk steamer; the Burmese devoured it with oranges, praised it highly, and said that pepper in the jungle kills any infection. The Burmese called him their leader.
"You know, Yuri," they complained, "how tired we are of being deceived!"
Their situation was aggravated by the fact that they could not return to their homeland: in Burma, whether you like it or not, 10% of the currency earned at sea must be given to the state. Skafidi had not paid them for almost three years; prison awaited them at home.
They gave Yuri, the leader, a book banned in Burma by Nobel laureate Khaun de Sanyu, "Voice of Hope," and also gave him a skirt. The two Burmese meditated, lost their tempers, entered someone, flew away, flew in... Radio officer Ganchev also meditated. When in the morning Yuri knocked on Ganchev's cabin, he asked in Russian:
- Who's there?
- Father Frost, answered Perov.
- Father Frost lives in Siberia, the radio operator unlocked the cabin. - Yuri, I summoned the spirit of Galina Starovoytova. You have a future, you will be a captain...
On the bulkhead was a photo: Ganchev with his wife and children. Before the voyage, Yordan Ganchev was a stout man, but now he looked like a withered old man. Ganchev could not sit idle; he suggested to the captain of the "Hercules" that he paint the entire steamer. All alone. He scraped off rust, cleaned the metal to a shine, welded holes himself, patched, puttied, primed, painted. He asked for a paltry extra payment, just $100 a month. He only managed to paint the superstructure. The owner owed him $16,000.
The chief mate Stefanov had a heartache, eczema broke out, and he suffered from itching. Some medicines for treating psoriasis were obtained on other ships. Stefanov drank, was irritable, cursed the captain and the Montenegrins. Agent Bakri was somewhat afraid of him, which is why he allowed him to call home. The Bulgarian embassy in Algiers paid for the chief mate's ticket, and Stefanov flew away without ever waiting for his salary; the company owed him $24,000.
Perov became the senior officer.
Senior officer
In September the wind changed direction, and the stench from the "Hercules" was carried toward the port captain's office. Garbage containers were brought to the ship's side.
Perov got a crew cut.
- Yuri, you have very little hair, observed Captain Losakas.
- I'm the Russian mafia, joked Perov.
The next day the captain also shaved his head and said:
- I'm the Greek mafia.
If there were no CIS ships in the port, they baked fish patties, "killer cutlets." This is how day after day, week after week passed.
- What will we eat tomorrow? the captain lamented.
- Tomorrow we'll saw off your leg and make broth. Get your wheelchair ready.
Then they softened:
- We'll hang your boss and burn the "Hercules."
The fire extinguishers on the ship had long been out of order or discharged; Perov carried his documents with him just in case. From the deck of a Murmansk ship, Yuri called his mother in Dneprodzerzhinsk, reassured her, said he was at sea and everything was fine. His youth and knowledge of the language would have allowed him to get a job on another ship so that everything really would be fine, but the crew was not allowed outside the port area. They went in a crowd to the agent.
- Your shipowner is a swindler, declared Bakri. - The ship will not leave here. If you keep bothering me, I'll call the police.
- Let them send us to prison, they said, - at least they feed you there.
Having achieved nothing, they returned to the "Achilles"; on an empty stomach they could not sleep. In the morning, the Montenegrins visited the captain with a knife.
- If there is no money, captain, said Chetnik Zelko, - I'll cut off your ears and nose. I could have earned money in the war, but instead I went to sea, where this Greek is deceiving me.
Captain Losakas was shaking; he withdrew, put on dark glasses, took a folder, and wandered off somewhere. Perov had a dream that they never paid him, and he hanged Kushch.
- I was at Skafidi's house, Zelko flashed the whites of his eyes, - he received me well. I'll get a visa in my passport, find him in Piraeus, and kill him! Then I'll go to war again.
For negotiations with the authorities, the crew delegated not the captain but Perov; he was fluent in the language, was reasonable, not explosive like the Montenegrins. And most importantly, they trusted him. Everyone. The authorities explained to Perov:
- Your case in court is fourth in line. The lawsuit was filed on behalf of the port agent, a Venezuelan bunkering company, and the ship's crew...
The wind strengthened to storm force. The ship was being tossed along the pier. The rotten polypropylene lines stretched, hummed, then snapped; tugboats held the "Hercules" all night to keep it from being thrown onto other ships. The crew no longer did anything; they waited for the end.
- Let it sink, they said.
It did not sink this time either.
One day Captain Losakas invited Perov to his cabin and said:
- Yuri, if you accept the position, I will pay you $1,000.
- What position? Perov did not understand.
- Captain of the "Hercules."
In September, three months had passed since Yuri set foot on the deck of the "Hercules." According to the terms of the contract, the company was obliged to pay him for three months or provide new work. Skafidi is a swindler, so he needed to find work himself; he would have done so if they had let him out of the port. Even Captain Losakas said, "You have to get out on your own."
The captain stopped communicating altogether; he went to eat on the dry-cargo ship "Caridge." One morning Perov knocked, but no one answered. They called the police, broke down the door, and read a note: "Yuri, you are an honest man, you are a competent specialist. I appoint you captain of the "Hercules." Konstantin Losakas."
Captain
A week later Losakas called from Greece.
- Everything is fine, Yuri, he said. - I'm home, everything is fine, but there is no money. Let the divers not look for me. Please pack my personal belongings, glasses, slippers, business papers...
The captain fled on the "Caridge" as he was. If the Montenegrins had spotted him with his belongings, he would have been in trouble. If the authorities had pulled him out during a search of the "Caridge," he would have spent the rest of his days at a mine in the Sahara.
Soon agent Bakri raised the alarm. He could only cover his expenses for maintaining the vessel and crew after the sale of the 'Herakles' at auction. But after the flight of Captain Losakas, the safety of the 'Herakles' came under threat; the ship could, without waiting for the court, simply sink at the pier, and finally, the crew could set it on fire. Bakri contacted the ITF in London, reported the state of affairs on board the 'Herakles' to Bill Goujer, the trade union leader of transport workers. ITF inspectors sent an inquiry to Limassol in Cyprus, where the 'Herakles' was registered, then threatened the Piraeus 'S. S.', where Captain Kalmanis was chief manager. In January 1999, the chain Bejaia - London - Limassol - Piraeus - Bejaia closed, and the tormented crew finally received travel documents for the return journey.
They scattered in all directions: Montenegrins to Tunis, Burmese to Cairo. Burma has its own 'S. S.', the Burmese Kush contacted the Greek 'S. S.', and the further maritime fate of the Burmese was decided. They were issued tickets to Cairo, promised new work within five days. In return, they demanded a receipt stating that they had received... all the money for many months. The Burmese realized that they were falling into a new bondage and could not find peace. Perov insisted that they not write receipts; they were sent new, retyped forms, apparently the company was prepared for refusal, and the refusal itself did not surprise it much. Many cried when saying goodbye to Yuri, their leader and last captain.
Epilogue
Perov went into Kush's office; he saw out all visitors and said:
- Yuri, I know everything. Right now the problem is to get you your salary.
- I need at least fifteen hundred for studies and to pay off my debts, - explained Perov.
- What fifteen hundred? - Kush even became indignant. - You must receive your entire salary, eight and a half thousand. We are expecting Kragakis this week; he will bring the money. One condition - don't turn to anyone.
On February 19, Grigory Kragakis arrived.
- You are my son, - he said. - The boss shamed us before the whole world. But in view of the fact that you are a decent fellow, our firm will pay the money. How much do you need for a start?
- Thirteen hundred.
- No problem.
- We are giving you a good ship, - promised Kush. - This is a vessel of another company, very well regarded, the 'Herakles'.
- What do you mean, 'Herakles'?
- Not 'Herakles-I', but simply 'Herakles'. Come on Monday, you will get the money.
Yuri came on Tuesday.
- There are difficulties with the transfer, - Kush was concerned. - Hurry up and process your documents, and we will send you on a voyage. True, you have problems with English...
So Perov has language problems! There was no more talk about money. Perov called 'S. S.' three days later.
- When will the money be? - he asked.
- We are waiting. Get ready for the voyage.
A week later, Perov appeared on television on the program 'Sea of Hope', told about the deception, berated Kragakis in English. Perov hoped to receive or recover from 'S. S.' his salary as third mate, not second, not senior officer, and not captain, which he had actually been in various months. The salary for a third mate from Russia or Ukraine is $1.150. Bulgarians are paid $1.250, Romanians - $1.300, such an insulting gradation. Yuri Perov turned to the transport prosecutor's office. This is a normal reaction to flag-of-convenience piracy, planned and clumsily carried out by specific individuals. At the prosecutor's office they disappointed him, frankly saying that it would not be easy to recover the money through court, 'S. S.' is only an intermediary.
At the Greek consulate, Perov was received by the naval attaché, Mr. Kavalleros. He contacted 'S. S.' by phone and talked for about fifteen minutes.
- Lek shipping is registered, unfortunately, in Limassol, - explained the attaché. - Cyprus is a different state. The company 'S. S.' is registered in Monrovia, so we cannot help you, sorry. Please turn to television, write to newspapers, people must know about the fraud. Such intermediaries should not work...
In the Varna newspaper 'Морские вести' Vasily Raynov published an article in which he accused the Bulgarian branch of 'S. S.' of fraud. 'S. S. осигуряет наших моряков без храна и зарплаты' - that was the title of the article in Bulgarian. The article was accompanied by a summary from the ITF, the international transport workers' union. 'Seafarers, you have simply tired us out, - the appeal read, - we are tired of complaints. Why do you, knowing that you will be deceived, still turn to fraudsters? Please, before choosing companies, contact us for a recommendation, and we will give you the addresses of reliable firms. We are tired of giving explanations to the victims and the deceived.'
After Raynov's publication, the Bulgarian branch of 'S. S.' was closed, and the chief manager disappeared. The office of 'S. S.' in Constanța burned down; at the fire site they found an enema, someone had poured gasoline from the enema under the door. The arsonists were not caught; since then, the company 'S. S.' has not been listed in the lists of intermediary companies in Romania. The branch in Odessa, on the contrary, developed, moved to new premises closer to the business center; Captain Kush actively participates in the public committee for the protection of seafarers' rights.
Perov received an assignment to a ship from another company as second mate; I do not reveal the name of the ship for obvious reasons.