The dramatic rescue in April of Captain Richard Phillips of the Maersk Alabama who had been taken captive by pirates in the Gulf of Aden snapped the world’s attention to a simmering but until then under-noticed phenomenon—that of piracy in the Gulf of Aden.

The International Maritime Bureau, which tracks the frequency of pirate attacks worldwide, reports that their number has been increasing, though not dramatically: the IMB received 239 reports of piracy in 2006; 263 in 2007; and 293 in 2008. 

What is dramatic are the reports from the Gulf of Aden: the region saw thirteen attacks in 2007; 92 in 2008. And, the Aden attacks are different: worldwide, half the attacks made on ships occur when the vessel was either berthed or anchored. In the Gulf of Aden, every attempt occurred while the ship was steaming—and, with ships being directed to stay 200 miles off the coast of Somalia, those attempts are occurring further from land. Indeed, the Maersk Alabama was over 200 miles from the Somalia coast when it was attacked.

The rescue of Captain Phillips—and the bravura performance of the Navy SEALS, who shot three of his captors while standing on a floating platform—drew widespread approval: that, many editorial writers agreed, was the way to deal with the problem. It is not, however, a scenario that is very likely to be repeated. First, the pirates in question attacked a relative rarity: an American-flagged vessel; second, they abandoned that vessel for a small craft, which itself ran out of gas, allowing them to be taken in tow by the USS Bainbridge. And third, while in the past, crewmen taken captive generally have not been harmed, Captain Phillips was clearly in danger when the Navy intervened.

The problem can be fairly simply stated: the seas are big; the ships are many; the pirates are daring and the area from which they operate—Somalia—is without a government capable of doing much of anything, much less stop pirates armed with AK-47s and advanced navigational capability.

The number of potential targets is huge—18,000 to 20,000 ships pass through the Gulf of Aden each year. They carry just about everything, including twelve percent of the world’s oil supply. Sea patrolling exists, but numbers must be kept in scale: at present, about 23 naval vessels from various countries are attempting to provide security in a 1.1 million mile expanse of sea—an area about the size of the eastern United States.

As it stands, there is no great likelihood that a patrolling vessel will be close enough to intervene in the event of an attack on a ship. In consequence, at present there are sixteen ships and approximately 250 crewmen of all nations being held captive by Somali pirates.

As Joseph Cox, president, Chamber of Shipping of America, notes, “The average pirate attack—from the time a threatening boat is recognized to the time the attack is complete—is in the fifteen-to-twenty minute range.” If naval vessels in the area can’t get there for two hours, he adds, “We have a problem.”

Ship owners are being unusually close-mouthed on the subject. One fairly typical statement, released by the Hong King headquarters of OOCL, read, “It would be inappropriate to disclose to the public our procedures directed to our ship crews on how to deal with a potential piracy attack.” Queried as to their own plans in the matter, a spokesperson for CMA CGM responded that they “would need a few weeks” to provide a comment. Most others simply do not return phone calls.

There are at least two plausible explanations for the reticence. One, cited by a communications advisor to international trading partners, harkens back to the World War Two slogan, “Loose lips sink ships.” The carriers, she says, are “playing it very close to the vest, and smartly so. They have no reason to let their planned counter-measures be known.” Another possibility is that the quiet on the subject will continue at least until all parties have arrived at a concerted response to the pirate menace.

The issue will be front and center when the Fifth Global Congress on Combating Counterfeiting and Piracy, sponsored by Interpol, convenes in early June in Cancun, Mexico. But whatever comes out of that event—or discussions elsewhere—there does appear to be one unfortunate truth: if there was a simple, obvious answer, it would have been enacted by now.

That aside, though, there are steps under consideration which include:

Arming the crew

Providing firearms to crew members is one of the most commonly made suggestions—and one that is just as routinely shot down by many in or near the industry. Greg Bangs, vice president of Crime, Kidnap/Ransom and Extortion at Chubb Insurance, states, “The ship owners I’ve talked to have no interest in arming their crews.” He ticks off reasons: First, arming crews with basic weapons does not mean they could stand up in a firefight to pirates brandishing AK-47s. Second, arming them does not mean they will be trained—or proficient—in small unit maneuvers. And third, while most crews and voyagers are amiable enough, introducing firearms to a ship raises the possibility of on-board conflict between crew members. 

Joe Cox, president, Chamber of Shipping of America, states, “I would not want to arm my crew. I hire them to operate ships safely and efficiently while protecting the marine environment. Being ‘special operatives’ is not something for which they’ve been trained, and if you get people with that training, are they still expert seafaring crewmen?”

Some note possible humanitarian repercussions: Crewmen from captured vessels have been held as long as three months. To date, however, it has been generally the case that captured crew are housed reasonably and fed decently. The crew members are, after all, a bargaining chip. As a hypothetical, some observers suggest, crewmen taken captive following a firefight in which pirates had been killed might not fare as well once they were in captivity.

Armed security guards

This is a likelier option than arming the crew. In late April, U.S. Coast Guard Admiral Brian Salerno issued a statement that “armed security teams” were among those potential measures being given consideration. This, he said, would “require careful deliberations from the industry,” a process he expected to be initiated some time in May.

A key question, of course, is whether those teams come from private security agencies, or are detachments of U.S. military personnel. Private security agencies enjoy a somewhat uneven reputation these days; one former ship’s captain says, “If you are going to retain private security, how do you vet them?” There is also a question of authority: Who on board is empowered to give the word to “fire away?” If security teams are not under the captain’s command, then it seriously undercuts the traditional authority enjoyed by sea captains on the high seas. If the captain retains command, then what liability does he—and the ship owners—face in the event a crewmen is killed during an assault? 

Convoying

In 1917, when German U-boat attacks in the Atlantic were threatening to starve England out of the war, British Prime Minister David Lloyd George made a suggestion: bunch the ships together and have them cross the Atlantic under armed escort—what is known more simply as “convoy.” The practice is generally credited with giving Britain the upper hand in its fight against submarine warfare.

So why not now? 

Writing in the Wall Street Journal, Peter Zimmerman, former chief scientist for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, estimated that—with convoying—72 naval vessels would be needed to provide escort to the ships that sail daily between Mombassa and the Red Sea. Some argue it could be done with fewer, but no one knows for sure. What is known is that convoying would require greatly more warships than the twenty vessels of various nations that are now patrolling the waters.

To date—and this may be changing—the shipping companies have not expressed great interest in the idea. A convoy has to move at the speed of its slowest member. That means that the modern container ship that skids through the water at 24 knots would have to cut its speed in half to stay in line with a loaded tanker vessel. Not only does that add costly delays to the container ship’s schedule, but it provides relatively little in return.

Chris Koch of the World Shipping Council notes that not all vessels are equally at risk: the higher the cruising speed, and the higher the freeboard, the less likely a vessel is to be attacked. Large container ships, therefore, might be greatly lowering their speed without adding greatly to their security.

Stop paying ransoms

Willie Sutton famously remarked when asked why he robbed banks: “Because that’s where the money is.” A ship, notes Captain Joseph Ahlstrom—a one-time ship’s captain, now security instructor at the SUNY Maritime College—is a “floating bank.”  That is, it’s an asset that can be grabbed by anyone who believes the possible payoff exceeds the likely consequence. To stop piracy, he asserts, you have to stop the payoff: he urges the International Maritime Organization must issue a firm statement that carriers are no longer to pay ransoms.

Two problems emerge. It’s not clear how such an injunction would be enforced. It may well be “better for everyone” if ransoming stopped, but a ship owner whose crew is in captivity and at hazard might take a more narrow view of the circumstance and place “what’s better for my crew” on top. At the same time, captured crewmen now have, in effect, trading value to their captors; remove that value, and their relative security to date may also disappear. Capt. Ahlstrom acknowledges a second sticking point: the 250 international crewmen currently being held hostage. Whether to pay ransom on them, he notes, “is a tough call.” 

Solve the problem on land

U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, among others, has stated that solving the pirate issue will require the creation of a stable government in Somalia—with that government committed to cracking down on the pirate trade. Somalia doubtless needs a stable government, but establishing one in the near-term seems unlikely. Somalia is not so much a country as an expanse of largely arid land, about the size of Texas. Its ten million residents currently have no central administration, no national army and no common legal system—reflecting its colonial past, some parts of the country make use of English law, some of Italian law and some of Sharia [Islamic] law. 

Even if Somalia had the will to crack down on piracy, it is woefully short of the means. As samples of social indices, Somalia has the world’s fifth highest birthrate, sixth highest infant mortality rate and an estimated GNP of $600 per capita. Nor would military intervention of land necessarily bring a solution: the United States, it should be remembered, intervened in Somalia in the past—the Mogadishu, in 1993—with unhappy results.

Piracy, now as in centuries past, appears principally to be about “treasure.” Concern has been expressed that pirate groups might align themselves with terrorists—for example, seizing and holding a liquefied natural gas carrier as an enormous floating bomb. A recent RAND Corporation study of ocean-going terrorism largely dismissed this possibility, saying there was “little evidence to support [such] concerns.” The reason, the study concluded, goes to motive: terrorist groups have a political point to make; pirates just want the gold.

The amount of money that Somali pirates are receiving in ransom is in dispute: estimates of ransoms paid by ship owners in 2008 range from $30 million to $125 million. The amount is substantial enough that, according to Chubb’s Bangs, “a very large percentage of ship owners either have or are now seeking insurance” that specifically covers ship hijack and ransom. Chubb has been offering kidnap and ransom insurance for 30 years; its policies specifically aimed at marine hijacking were introduced only last year. 

The coverage now being sought by ship owners is “geared to what ship owners are hearing anecdotally—for larger ships and more visible cargos, that’s generally between $1 million and $3 million.”

Often overlooked in the discussion over “what to do” is the fact that approximately two-thirds of hijacking attempts in the Gulf of Aden fail. That, say those in the field, reflects the relative effectiveness of standard operating procedures now in use. By International Maritime Organization standards, all ocean-going vessels of 500 tons or more are to have a security officer and a security plan, which is to be routinely rehearsed.

Among standard steps: a watch, equipped with a radio, is assigned to the rear of a ship, the likeliest point of boarding; full illumination of the vessel is to be maintained; fire hoses are to be ready for use. All these are aimed at reducing the element of surprise, an important advantage for the attackers.

In the event of a boarding, IMO policy states that crewmen should “avoid the use of firearms or other aggressive behavior which might provoke violence by the attackers.” Instead, the crews are directed to take refuge in a previously identified controlled area, difficult for attackers to penetrate, to which the crew can retreat in the event of a boarding. That area is to be stocked with food, water, medical supplies and communications equipment. Further, in the event of a boarding, one step is to kill the engine: this prevents the attackers from taking control of the ship’s movements; even, in the unlikely event that the pirates know how to start up the ship’s engines, the time delay in doing so increases the likelihood of aid from a naval vessel in the vicinity. wt



In addition to writing on global supply chains, contributing editor Mark Bernstein has written a book on broadcaster Edward R. Murrow and is currently at work on a biography of former Ohio Governor John Gilligan.