Pete was devastated by Fernando’s death. He took a year out, sailed a bit, took time to reflect. Eventually he was ready to get back to campaigning. Soon he was being arrested in Denmark, then the Philippines. A movie came out, The Rainbow Warrior, in which Pete was played by Oscar-winner Jon Voight. Years passed. Greenpeace grew in size and scope. The job of captain changed.
‘When I started out, there was one campaigner on the boat, and half the time his job was to bring the recreational pharmaceuticals,’ Pete told Josh Eells from the magazine Men’s Journal. ‘Now there’s a campaigner, an assistant campaigner, a comms person, a second comms person, a webbie, photographer… I remember saying in the early eighties that we had to get as disciplined and organised as IBM or Exxon, or we weren’t going to matter. And in a lot of ways we did, and it sucks. I’m still glad we did it. But now you’re kind of just a cog in a wheel.’[105]
Pete met an Argentine doctor at sea, married her and had two kids, but the marriage didn’t last. Later he connected with his birth mother, then in 2010 he was visiting Maine to pick up a classic yacht for delivery when he met up with Maggy, the cook back on Pete Seeger’s boat forty years earlier. She was single now, so was he, and that thing between them was still there. Three years later they married. Seven months after that he sailed for the Arctic.
1st November
November! Made it! Good things are going to happen this month, but there are still alligators in the pool. So do not count your chickens yet! Got off to a slightly better exercise period. Two sides of the box were walkable. Then the day got a little weird. I got taken to a room up on the fourth floor which was some kind of meeting room. Two guys, one in a suit, one a plain shirt. They said they were from special services or something like that. The suit started to talk but the other guy was such a shitty translator, it was really hard to figure out what they were trying to say. They made the point that I was responsible for the crew being here. I did not like it, but agreed anyway. They then spent a long time saying if I made a statement things would be better, and we would go home. They asked me what I thought, and I said if that’s what they told me I would have to accept it. They did not whip out the paper and start questioning me. The interpreter was not up to it. But at the end I just agreed with them, saying I did not know anything that was going on, and if they said I would get out after making a statement, I would have to believe them. In the end they might have thought they convinced me. But if they think I am making a statement without my lawyer, they are smoking crack.
TWENTY-FOUR
1st November
Just had a 20 minute phone call with Joe + Nina. It was really really lovely. So good to talk to them and hopefully reassured Joe of my well being. Nina pretty damn upset with Greenpeace and how they got it ‘so’ wrong. I tried to tell Nina that I always knew a prison sentence was coming my way but she is still very angry with them. She has done loads of really good interviews as well. Major radio + news etc. So proud of her. So proud. Things could get a bit ugly if I get a longer jail term here. I think Nina will start demanding a new lawyer + possibly criticise Greenpeace, which would be disastrous on an open forum. God I hope it’s over soon for that sake alone.
2nd November
Really strong dream last night. Boris was obviously making noise and rattling the steel bunk with the light on. I was confused and convinced it was Nina coming into our bedroom to go to sleep. Assuredly to do with the phone call and the sudden contact made with back home. It was really upsetting though, because for one second I felt so comfy and back at home in bed. Reality was a hard bite.
I keep thrashing Yuri at chess. It’s getting a bit embarrassing.
4th November
Boris’ snoring is getting really bad. Started dreaming of toe clip electrodes that would be linked to a decibel meter and apply an equal and appropriate level of electric shock compared with the sound level and resonance of the snoring.
The Investigative Committee is trying to split the Arctic 30.
If they can get some of the activists to give evidence saying who took an active role in the protest at the rig, they can focus the charges on just a few of them. It’s a strategy that could see some of them go free but ensure the rest are jailed for many years. And if the IC can get the thirty to turn on each other they’ll secure a propaganda triumph for the Kremlin, especially if one of the turncoats is from the famous Litvinov dynasty.
Three days after being freed from the punishment cell, Dima is shaken awake by a guard.
‘You, get up, you have a meeting.’
‘I do?’
‘Your lawyer’s here.’
Dima jumps to the ground, then he’s marched down the hall with the guard following just behind him. ‘Right left right left right left…’ They turn a corner and there, coming towards him, are the two guys from the FSB. The competent authorities. The fist clenches in Dima’s stomach. Gerbil breaks into a grin.
‘Hey, that’s Litvinov isn’t it?’
‘It is, it is,’ says his friend with the helmet haircut. ‘It’s our old friend Litvinov.’
‘Ah, but where’s he going? That’s the question.’
‘He’s going to see his lawyer.’
‘Oh is he?’
‘He is, he is. He’s got a meeting.’
‘Oooh, a meeting. Sounds important.’
‘But I think we should have a little chat with him first, don’t you?’
‘Yes, yes. I think we should. I think the lawyer’s going to have to wait a while.’
The guard tugs the back of Dima’s shirt, pulling him to a halt. Helmet-hair opens a door and holds out an arm. Dima looks at each of the men in turn then nods and steps through the open door. He’s in a small meeting room with a row of chairs facing a single seat across a table, on which sits a bowl of biscuits. It’s like the scene of a job interview with five people on the panel. The competent authorities follow him in and shut the door.
Helmet-hair sits down and invites Dima to take the seat opposite him. Gerbil doesn’t take a seat, instead he lowers his tiny, bony little arse onto the edge of the table then shuffles along, making himself more comfortable before leaning down and exploding in Dima’s face.
‘You fucking bitch! You know how many years you’re going to be here? You think you’re going to get out after two months? Oh my God, you’re going to be here for years! You understand that, right? Did you like the punishment cell? Oh, you didn’t? What, you thought because you’re a Litvinov that we can’t just make you disappear? Well you know what, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in that cell, my friend. What have you got to say to that?’