By Maksim Rakipaj
Part thirty three
Memorie.al/ Maksim Rakipaj, originally from Përmet, whose family had helped and supported the Anti-Fascist National Liberation War, after graduating from the Navy School in Vlorë, in 1972 he was appointed an officer in the Merchant Navy, where he served with dedication until in 1977, on the “Durrësi” steamer, he was arrested and sentenced to 15 years in political prison, as part of a “group”, which also included his colleague, Aladin Kapo, the son of Hysni Kapo’s brother. Family biography was also the reason for his punishment. After the end of the war, two of his uncles were sentenced to political prison, his grandfather was declared a kulak and in 1976, his father was expelled from the party. Maksi began serving his sentence in the Ballsh camp and in 1979, he was transferred to the Spaçi camp and then to the Qafë Bari camp. He was released on September 12, 1984, benefiting from a reduced sentence, from an amnesty. After being unemployed for a long time, with many hardships, he got a job as a miner in the Mzezet mine, he worked until 1991. After the 1991s, he started working in the administration of the Municipality of Durrës, he served until 1997 and after that, he returned to the Merchant Navy (the last captain of the transoceanic ship “Vlora”), until he left Albania for Italy, (illegally on a dinghy), where he currently lives for many years. Since the 90s, in addition to various jobs, Maksim Rakipaj has also devoted himself to writing, such as; poetry, prose, fiction or documentary, translations, etc., publishing several books, such as: ‘Prophet – Khalil Gibran’, (translation from English ‘Toena’ 2003), ’20 love poems and a song of sadness’, (translation from Spanish, ‘Toena’ 2003), ‘Alive after the shipwreck’, (published by ISKK, 2014), ‘Bukowski – poetry’, (translation from English, ‘ENEAS’, 2015), ‘Trilusa m’Tirône’, ( translation from Italian, ‘UEGEN’, 2015), ‘Anthology of Arabic-Persian Poetry’ (English translations, ‘UEGEN’, 2015), ‘The Complete Sonnets of Shakespeare’, (English translation, ‘ADA’ 2016′) , ‘Survivor’ (autobiographical novel, ‘2 East, 2 West’ 2018), ‘Nobelists – poetic anthology, (UEGEN 2019), ‘Hymn of happiness’ (‘JOZEF’ 2023), etc. From the creativity of Mr. Rakipaj, Memorie.al is publishing the book “Survivor”, (published in 2022 by “JOZEF” Publishing House in Durrës, directed by Mr. Aurel Kaçulini), where he has described his life chronologically, where the part the main one is that of serving the sentence in camps and prisons, as well as various characters, his co-sufferers that he met in the communist hell, etc.
Continues from last issue
The last trip with “Vlora”
(Piratesque return to Durrës)
I also spoke to the extraordinary and powerful ambassador, Mr. F. D., who answered me: – “Why, Captain, I will fix your nonsense, do you understand or not, that is…”?! I patiently explained to the agronomist who had become an ambassador that I was not at fault; I left Durrës 6 months ago and this document has only been required for two months.
– “And then, what do I need?! On Monday I said, let’s see on Monday…!
When Ashrafi saw that I was furious and was about to curse him, he took the phone from my hand and said:
– “I am Ashraf F., director of the agency that serves the ship ‘Vlora’. If I understood you correctly Mr. Ambassador, your Excellency will not know that a ship with the Albanian flag and property of the Albanian state will be blocked for years, until your state repays the debts it has here. Did I understand you correctly? And I assure you that it will be good news for the newspapers”.
Whether the agronomist wanted it or not, he made the letter and sent it by fax immediately. Ashraf wished me good luck. The next day at 7.00 am, we left for the port of Piraeus. There we were waiting for the games and games of the Greeks…!
The purpose of sending to Piraeus was justified by the Greek agency under the pretext of supplying the ship with fuel, food and giving our back wages. Throughout the time, we have always received salaries 3, even 4 months late. The crew was much stressed. I was offered several destinations, I accepted them all; but it was a game of the Greeks, to gain time. Their purpose became clear to me; they wanted the Fleet to sink into debt as much as possible, the crew to abandon the ship and “Vlora” to be left to them for free.
They were almost reaching their goal; out of 39 crew members, 26 asked me to return to Albania, they couldn’t take it anymore and it wasn’t their fault. The Greeks had no destination for us, for the ship to continue working, my will, the officers and the crew was complete, everyone was ready to continue sailing normally. I was offered a route to a Russian port, on the Black Sea, to load scrap for Italy. When I was waiting to receive the departure order, I was told that it was cancelled. This filled the cup. After that, the 26 who asked me for permission to return all left.
I was left alone with 4 officers, a waiter, radioman, two mechanics and 6 sailors. These stayed, mostly just out of respect for me. The director from Durrës promised me on the phone that he would start me as a replacement as soon as possible, for those who left. I found out that only 5 people left to come to the ship, when I needed at least 13 more. In telephone contacts with the director and a representative from the Ministry of Transport, they told me; “What if you sneak away from Piraeus, the captain will hold your ass”?!
I must clarify that when a ship goes to any port, the captain is obliged to deliver to the relevant port captain’s office all the documents of the ship registered in the maritime register of the country to which it belongs, according to the flag it carries. When the departure permit is sent from that port, the documents are returned to the ship. Leaving without the permission of the port captaincy and without documents is treated as an act of piracy. This fact was well known in the directorate and in the ministry, that’s why they told me clearly; “Under your responsibility, but we don’t know anything”?!
– “Okay, gentlemen, if the Greeks catch me and punish me for piracy, will you give me a pension to support my family”?!
– “That’s why I told you, do you hold your ass?! If you can’t take it, stay where you are, we have nothing to do, I’ll send 5 sailors at once, then we’ll see…”!?
An Albanian, a former army officer at the time of monism, worked in the agency, or was a co-owner. He told me a bit, when I asked him for the back wages: “Why did you take it as you remember, why did I rent the ‘Vlora’…?! Where is there work for this ship, it has been so many years that no maintenance has been done on it; he needs to build the dock, the engine. With your money, I fill the barges in Greece, empty them in Gjirokastër…several times a month, life is expensive here brother, what will we live on here”?!
The next morning, in the port of Piraeus, where we had been anchored for two months, a Greek official came to me in a motorboat and handed me a large envelope with several inscriptions in Greek. I opened it, because the Greek wanted his copy with my signature and the ship’s seal; it was all just in Greek…. “Sign, sign, it’s the decision of the maritime court, for the arrest of the ship”! I tore them all up and threw them on the floor…
– “How was this decision made, without my knowledge and that of the lawyer they sent from Albania?! Why is this decision only in Greek?! Who do you remember that you can make fun of?! Disappear from my ship or I will throw you into the sea…”!- and the ship’s boys were really ready to throw him away…!
I had to speak to the director, from some public phone. I also talked to my family, my wife was shocked, my mother gave it to her; “I’m black, my son was arrested again”. My father spoke to me; “Listen to me, let the women cry, you do what you have to do. You are the captain of that ship, you took it out of the port of Durrës and your honor demands that you bring it to Durrës, I don’t know about these things, you judge for yourself and decide what you should do. Welcome!
My message was clear. “Okay, – I told him, – I will not let ‘Vlora’ rot in Piraeus, I will bring it to Durrës and leave the sea…”! With the 12 loyalists on the ship, I made the escape plan, but I had no oil…! “At least 20 tons of oil, – the mechanics told me, – we have mazut. We also have water, but it would be good if they brought us some more. We need food”!
From my investigations, the ship was monitored by the harbor master’s radars, if the ship moved out of position, an alarm was given. But before that, oil was needed. I had made the request a month ago, but the Greeks didn’t bring me everything I asked for, of what they thought could be useful for my escape, they didn’t even bring me half.
I called the agency on the radio; “I need to talk urgently,” came the motorboat immediately. At the agency I also found Mihal, the Greek in charge of supplies. I threatened to report him to the maritime court of Piraeus, who has endangered the lives of the crew, the ship and the ships next to me, by not supplying the ship with fuel; in case of a storm, etc., the ship could not move without fuel, for this I had made several maritime protests.
Another problem: for two days, five sailors were stuck at the airport and were not allowed to come on board. They slept on benches and ate the soufflakas that the policemen gave them for mercy. When I found out, I became a beast. I tried to hold back my anger and calmly said to Mihal: “What about those 5 Albanian sailors, why did you leave them for shame and a black face, as if they were criminals…”?!
Mihali chuckled disdainfully, from the movement of his lips I understood that he said without a sound; “eeee allvanos”…! I didn’t take my eyes off, I choked and grabbed him by the throat… they barely took him out of my hands… screaming, I told him all the curses I knew in Greek, English, but I couldn’t get enough and started cursing him in Albanian. ..! Mihali was no longer laughing… when I started cursing him in Albanian, he turned to me; “No Mr. Captain, it’s not my fault… it’s the fault of those who won’t let me”, – and pointed to the owners of the agency…!
– “They say it’s your fault, Mihali, but know, if in half an hour, all the supplies I requested do not go to the ship, I will beat you like a child, with my own hands…”!
– “Run now, when you come back, you will find them all on the ship…”!
After an hour, while I was in a café, the first officer took me on the walkie-talkie: “They all came to the ship.”
– “Start the engine Berti, wait for me when I come, don’t do anything else until I come.”
The main problem now was getting off the radar without being noticed. Fortunately, a Romanian ship that was anchored right next to us informed the Port Authority that at around 5 pm, they would drop anchor to leave. 2-3 other ships were looking for a place to anchor, it was better not to. At 4:30 p.m., the first officer signaled to me from the bow that the anchor was clean on board.
– “All the power in front, in the middle of the steering wheel!… and we set off. Beginning of December, the weather was not bad, there was a little southerly wind, but not strong, the sea was 2-3 degrees. When we needed only 2 hours to completely leave the bay of Piraeus, around 21.00, the engine and all the lights on the ship went out. The wind had strengthened, from the current position, according to the direction of the wind, in two hours we would crash on the rocks of the coast, if the engine would not be restarted…! I went down, asked Eng. Landin, the ship’s chief mechanic: “What happened”?! Surrendering, he said to me: “I’m not done with shit, capido, only here, neither front nor back…”, – and sat down on a bench.
– “Fadil, where are you”?! – I called out and Fadili, with a rare calm, said: “Leave it alone, don’t let Landi know…! Only the corner of the beard, there is no dermon” – and he showed me how it was. There was a crack almost adjacent to the flange, the pipe that brought in seawater to cool the auxiliary engine, the one that kept the main engine running. The reason was the rotting of the rust pipe; it was a serious crack, with a diameter of about 15 cm.
The water level was rising rapidly and reaching the floor of the engine room…! “Wait”, – said Fadili, – “I want a coffee before”. Whoever did it first ran, while Niko Kondi, who was in water up to his waist and was, looking at the crack and, together with Fadil, assured me that they would get the engine ready as soon as possible. I climbed up into the wheelhouse, checking the position constantly, sent one of the officers down to the engine room…! The usual rattle was heard and the engine started, with the first knock. We left.
– “Don’t worry,” Fadili assured me. – We have it with pieces of tires and rags, we have tied it well, there is a little leakage, but there is no problem”.
It woke up. Just as I was thinking of lying down, there was the sound of an airplane above us. I climbed into the cockpit; it was a taxi type of plane, circling above us, flying very low. From the radio-telephone, their call was heard:
– “Vlora’, do you hear me, answer?! Return as soon as possible to the place of anchorage, in the bay of Piraeus. If you disobey captain, you will face very serious consequences…?! Armed men could be seen from the low-flying plane.
– “I hear you perfectly well, I answered, – but from this moment on, don’t call again, because the VHF radio-telephone does not work”.
I gave the order to the radio operator to close the radio station and I gave the order: “The new course will always be about 30 miles from the Greek coast, until we approach the Albanian waters. I didn’t sleep for three days and three nights in a row. People worked helping each other. Fadili took the mattress to the engine room. And finally Corfu and the contours of the Albanian coast appeared.
“We are still in Durrës for 10 hours, I am going to sleep; there is also a fire, don’t bother me….”! As soon as I lay down, I fell asleep, as if dead from exhaustion. After a while, after midnight, Gazi, the 2nd officer, comes and wakes me up…! – “Captain, sorry, you have to go, a warship, 2 miles away, starboard, come on the VHF, they want to talk to you”!
– “Speak, Gazi, you speak English very well, please…”!
– “I spoke and they want to talk to you, captain…”!
– “I’m coming…”!
The year ’95, the time of the blockade for the war in Bosnia. NATO ships controlled all ships entering and leaving the Adriatic.
I spoke on the radio:
– “Here is the captain of the ship “VLORA”!
They asked me all the details about the ship, cargo, crew no, my name, port of departure and port of arrival. I told him everything, twice.
– “Now captain, we order you to turn off the engine and wait for a team of us on board, for control, according to the convention approved by the UN for the war in Bosnia. Did you understand”?!
It sounded American, but I was afraid it was a Greek warship…?!
– “Berti, how far are we from our waters”?!
– “Another 10 minutes, we enter our waters, captain”!
…The warship that was introduced as “Watchman 72” was approaching us…!
– “Here is the ship ‘Vlora’, I am the captain, I am ready to wait for your control, provided that your ship does not have the Greek flag, I am now in Albanian waters and as a ship with an Albanian flag, I obey the laws of my country and not the orders that come to me from a Greek ship; secondly, I can’t turn off the engine, because we have a malfunction, if I turn it off it won’t turn on anymore and my first duty as a captain is to ensure the safety of the ship and my crew. If you are of a non-Greek flag, my crew and I are at your disposal, I can only slow down to facilitate the boarding of your control group on my ship. That’s it.”
– “Captain, I’m very sorry but…”!
When suddenly a thick, authoritative voice intervenes in the conversation:
– “Captain of ‘Vlora’?! I am the commander of the group of ships ‘Watchman’. You are free to continue sailing, but on one condition. You have declared port-of-arrival, Durrës…! If you change your destination, you and your ship will face the serious consequences that will result from this.”
– “Thank you sir”!
At nine o’clock in the morning, I fell asleep in the Durrës town hall. Berti came to drink coffee, in my cabin…! “No one answers us on VHF, Makso, neither from the directorate, nor from the captain’s office”?!
– “VHF works”?!
– “It works, because we listen to their conversations, we have also spoken with Albanian ships, which are in the port, but from the captaincy and the directorate, no one answers us…”!?
I called the harbor master. No answer. I tried to hold my anger and very politely, I told them that I intended to enter the port immediately: – “I’ve been calling you for an hour and you don’t answer”!
Instead, ‘Watchman 72’ answered me:
– “Captain, we have announced your arrival, don’t worry”!
From the captain’s office, they answered me with alarm: – “Don’t enter ‘Vlora’, because the ferry is leaving, then there are 2 more ferries to get in and out”!
I did not answer politely to the one who spoke to me from the captain’s office, when Pandi Golemi, former captain of “Skenderbeu”, who now worked as a pilot, spoke to me on VHF:
– Makso, I will come to enter Vlora, but know that there is no one from the directorate, there is anyone to gather the practice group. I have to do this work myself.
About 11 o’clock we docked at the port; at 4:30 p.m., the director, the chief of staff, the chief of finance and the engineer came to me of the fleet. I can’t say they were pleased with my reception. Neither do I from their reception. I didn’t think that they would welcome me with flags and speeches and a band of music, or even decorate me like Spiro Koten. Except for that silence that covered everything… But I have no regrets. I would do it again if I could go back to those years. /Memorie.al
