“Stand at the front of the boat…we are going to take you.”
This is it. It’s not enough to break my camera and drown me in salty, chemical water; now they have to arrest me too.
Two weeks ago, I set sail on a human rights observation boat with a crewmate, journalist and a captain. I’ve done this tens of times before. I film, photograph and jot down attacks that the Israeli navy carries out on Palestinian fishermen. In the past it was easier for the fishermen to fish if they stayed within the three nautical miles that Israel restricts them to. They were originally guaranteed 20nm under the Oslo accords. It’s sardine season, but the sardines are six miles out, beyond the reach of the blockaded fishermen.
Back in the calmer days I would sometimes go for a swim out at sea- one time I was chased by a large fish, another I had to do an embarrassing emergency pee at sea. And I often throw up. Basically, it is highly glamorous work.
But fishermen are increasingly being attacked- even while fishing in the three-mile limit. In April alone, 12 fishermen were arrested at sea. They are forced to jump into the water to swim to their own abduction.
That morning, we were around 300m closer to shore than the 3-mile marker that the Israeli navy positioned at sea. Without warning, a navy warship steamed towards us in an enormous cloud of smoke. I saw a huge stream of water shooting out of the side and, in one move, shoved my camera into a plastic bag and into the boat’s ‘camera hiding place’.
The Israeli gunboat was on our line, as if it were about to Titanic our asses. And our tiny boat’s engine choked along as fast as possible. Before I knew it, I was also choking on seawater sprayed directly into my nostrils and throat. The water was icy but it burned my nose. After the attack, I smelled like chemicals and have a cough that still lingers today.
I kept spitting out water, barely able so see and I pushed the captain of our boat to go faster.
“Wagifoo” the leading Israeli naval officer shouted (“stop,” in Arabic)
We had done nothing wrong. Of course we were not stopping. Even if we had done wrong, we received no instructions, warning or indication that we would be attacked.
We told the boat to leave us- that we weren’t a threat, that we were within their three mile limit and on our way home anyway. They didn’t give a floating poo. They told us to shut up, while firing high-power water cannons in our faces.
So we tried to go back to Gaza. We turned against the wind so the water wouldn’t reach us but the navy kept cutting us off. We were left with only one route back to Gaza’s shore. They still managed to water cannon us another four times. They alternated between filling our faces with water to aiming their water cannon at our camera hiding place.
The boat started filling with water, getting heavier and slower. I was soon knee deep. Our on-board radio was not working- possibly because of all the water but I miraculously managed to send a few text messages to some friends as I took the full blow of the water cannon in the back. I couldn’t see my phone’s screen. I really felt like I was fighting for my survival. I was going to be pirated away to some cell and nobody would realize for hours.
The water was pouring down my face, I could feel every single drop coordinating to engulf my whole body. On the plus side, my shoes needed a good wash, so thanks for that. If you were the water cannon operator, please get in touch so I know where to send the fruit basket.
After around 15 minutes of this high-sea chase, our engine died.
This is it. I’m going to told to jump into the water, handcuffed and blindfolded as they try to arrest me. No engine; no getaway.
The Israeli warboat spokesperson said something in Hebrew-Arabic.
“Do you speak English?” I responded
“Shut up!” He responded, again in Arabic. more
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