7 Sets of Nigeria

Every water rescuer agrees;

One of the most deadly rescues, if not <thee> most deadliest rescue situation is;

The Big Wave Break Zone

Fast moving surging walls of water breaking on coastline, ocean motion-majestic power.

We all gaze at it

Surface waves generated by wind, tidal, earth quakes, storms from near and afar

And turbulence we can’t see below the surface

The science of water motion is deep, the math intense, the more we learn the more mystery we find and all the experts agree ‘water is strange stuff’

Water is life, but not your friend.

And in the world of Sea rescue those big wave costal surges all vary from beach breaks, point breaks, reef breaks, rock breaks, and the one that makes the Lifeguard Captain, DJ, cringe with flash backs is; Cliff Breaks. Fast moving wave walls impacting a wall of stone sending a kinetic aqua shock wave back into the oncoming wave pushing it even higher, creating an angry violent white water soup with undertows and rip currents.

Some rescue swimmers call the break zone- ‘the strike zone’

These waves usually arrive in sets with an interval pause before the next set

And that’s where DJ is right now, in an interval pause from a 10 meter set of 7 on a cliff break, in the strike zone, on a multi victim rescue.

Take a deep breath….

Il-Mara- Malta (South East Coast) Aka; The Wall

 Flare Shot*

The offshore wind arch’s a glowing ball in blue sky over turbulent waters fired from the Lifeguard wave spotters perched on cliffs signaling another set of 7, 10 meter high roles closing in at just over 25 knots.

In the water, vision is limited, the horizon shortened as the suction begins pulling the rescue swimmers out in a violent soup of air mixed white water and Sea foam that’s hard to grip and pull a stroke.

DJ hand signals Renni about 30m out on the South side of the strike zone to keep moving.  Renni, weird Renni, has got his florescent acid hot Pink helmet on with a decal on the back of Bugs Bunny with sunglasses, smoking a joint with a caption “yo-wat’z-up doc ?”

Don’t ask and get no weird answers, as eccentric and bizarre as he is, fact is this guy is a bad-ass Pro in big surf rescues and with that hot pink florescent helmet, he’s easy to spot for Lifeguards and rescue victims.

Moving out of the strike zone is not a swim, it’s a power sprint.

DJ is suited in thin 1.5mil neoprene, same as triathletes use, thick bright orange neoprene vest, custom made webbed fingerless swim gloves, special rescue swim fins, skull fitted soft shell Helmut, the entire kit designed for speed, buoyancy, but lite enough to submerge and swim under a breaking wave.   

The trick here is; don’t swim away from the incoming walls of water, sprint into them using a technique translated from the Pacific Moki’s called porpoising. It’s a duck and dive under water into the incoming wave, pump kick the swim fins, a power underwater surge, ride the lift a little and punch out the back side of the wave sometimes dropping several meters, sprinting into the next oncoming wall of water.

The waves today are lifted by an offshore wind, the crest forms a lip trailing a mist, an angle hair vapor trail as they break in hollow roles, beautiful aqua translucent tubes.

Silhouetted in the background of those translucent aqua wall shades are life vest and shadows of humans mixed in with boat debris, which is why a hand-picked elite best of the best (A) team Lifeguards are here today.

Human traffickers in Libya hurriedly forced their herd out to Sea stripping them of everything of value, in dangerous conditions, in shoddy boats as the Sea drift changed due to an unusual low pressure and record setting wind events oscillating between Gaza and Alexandria Egypt. A bizarre weather occurrence meteorologist attribute to global warming.  

Although the weather is fair and sunny in Malta with a stiff circular offshore breeze, that low pressure wind energy several thousand kilometers East is showing up in the center of the Mediterranean in the form of monster, fast, brutal surf.

Sprint;

A freestyle sprint of about 100 meters in turbulent water

Breathe;

From the core, using stomach muscles; full exhale - inhale. Short breaths from the upper chest make you tired faster.

Pump-Kick;

Feel the fins torque muscles from the calves, butt, hips, to lower spine.

The Surge, as the body lifts into a wall of an oncoming wave.

Porpoise dive, with a power kick, as hundreds of tons of fast moving angry liquid blows bye in a few seconds.

Punch out, breaking out the back side of the wave dropping several meters

Repeat 7 times….

The lull between sets;

DJ grabs two people in their Life vest and starts the tow out of the strike zone, one is lifeless, he let’s go, grabs another, a child that slips out of a shoddy adult life vest, DJ rolls, child on chest with an adult in tow.

Rescue boat zooms in, powers down, plucks the two out of water and speeds off out of the strike zone.

Flare Shot*

Renni hand signals DJ off in the distance, he’s moving further South to avoid the back wave, white water recoil off the cliffs.

DJ spots a rip current and swims in, using it to save energy as it sucks him out of the strike zone edge.

Repeat 7x.

No helicopter back-up here, they’re all busy on the other side of the Islands. And rescuing desperate migrants, again, is 2^nd place on the government rescue asset allocation priority list.

In the midst of all this, DJ and his best mate Chief Constable Ryan are searching for someone in this mess.

A witness with an SD memory card with images of what they believe is their Counter Intelligence nemesis of the past when they were in covert SAS Op’s. They had every reason to believe he was dead. As DJ said when they started to sort this mystery out “Satan’s Angels don’t burn easy”

That mystery former nemesis controls most of the Congo River valley rare earth mineral mining by slave trade and a large part of the Human trafficking network. Talk about a career evolution, how to reinvent yourself, this guy has gone from ex-military officer, to double agent traitor, warlord, dead, to Chic mystery Cartel gangster with connections right up to the London Metals Exchange and the best of the best Alpine private bankers.

There’s a hand full of top intelligent agencies trying to profile this cartel.

There’s only two that know who it is, how it works and know why he’s using Malta as an exchange point.

Lull between sets, DJ sprints back into the strike zone to a bundle Life vest and boat debris, empty, no survivors.

Out here somewhere is their long time friend Amobi on the run from a Cartel kill contract, a former Nigerian Air Force Panther, Special Forces, they trained with back in their SAS days, did some African Op’s with, he’s one of best regional Intel sources ever. Amobi, an undercover detective with the Lagos Police Command. He’s leads a hard core street savvy Vice squad.

The first impression from most people is; Nigeria, Police, Corruption. Amobi loves his family, country and Lagos city, as he says “sometimes you gotta play by their rules”.

It’s true, a few drug kingpins may have had a deadly accident before they made it to trial. Not all criminal confessions are recorded.

Several notorious corrupt politicians could have, maybe, had evidence planted; he’s got the goods on everyone, from photos with hookers, gay, straight, payoffs, politicians, bankers, business elite and gangsters. And a few of those gangsters help Amobi’s Vice squad to keep the heat off and protect their turf.

For the record, last month’s Nigerian headlines “Pimp Roast”, that was an accident. The Pimp trafficking under aged prostitutes; while resisting arrest, the machete that fell from the mantel when he went head first into the fireplace, an unfortunate mishap.

Amobi likens his work to a symbiotic co-existence, a kind of yin & yang, with allot of African culture, vibrant life, street thugs and weapons.

So why is a decorated Vice Cop, ex Nigerian Special Forces officer here washing up on a Coastline in the middle of the Mediterranean?   

3 Weeks Ago: Tin Can Island-Lagos Nigeria

Amobi’s undercover Vice squad staked out a water front warehouse for weeks, prepping for a major drug bust. One night a Russian made Mi-8 cargo helicopter lands and two ocean luxury speed boats arrive accompanied with a crew of thug mercenary security types.  Amobi’s team moves in, a fire fight of epic proportions ensues.

Not gangsta street warfare, this crew was professional and well-armed to the teeth with the latest military grade street combat hardware.

Amobi’s squad of harden street Cop’s and ex-special forces stood their ground, in some cases fierce hand to hand combat.

Or in street lingo, you could say; ‘don’t be fuk’n wit dem Lagos vice homy’s, they’ll get ya, cum’n & go’n”.

When the smoke cleared, dust settled, the bodies counted, no drugs found.

What they did find in the mess were dead North Korean agents from the notorious Reconnaissance General Bureau (RGB) in charge of the DPRK clandestine operations, a few hundred million in mixed currency €,£,$ and about a metric ton of minted .999 Rhodium bars, the most valuable precious metal in the world and a dead London metals exchange trader.

Several people escaped from that raid, and one of them was captured on a small motion activated surveillance camera placed by Amobi’s undercover squad.  The person in that video clip; is the Cartel leader executing a police officer. The nemesis of DJ and Chief Ryan’s past,  it’s personal in a way, maybe evidence for Interpol if they can suss-out their not turning it over to someone on the Cartel payroll.

Within 24 hours after the Police raid, Amboi’s team was being killed off one by one, including family members. He scrambled to get his wife and kids out of the country, flew them to London. Then his house was blown up and his Police chief assassinated. Left only with a few clothes, some cash, no ID and a lite military style back pack, one of his gangster connections got him to Libya where he mixed in with migrants, paid a trafficker to get him to Europe, then forced at gun point out at Sea with other wayward souls in shoddy inflatable 20 man life rafts packed with 30 or more people.  

Amobi has a GPS tracker, that tracking code was sent to DJ from Amobi’s wife, 72 hours ago the tracker went off net. DJ and Ryan did some quick calculations and guesstimated he should be here now.

Flare Shot*

Renni signals, 5 out in strike zone.

Sprint, breathe, pump, kick, dive, punch-out, repeat 7x.

Grab 1, she looks pregnant, tow, rescue boat speeds in, line up, power down, hand off.

Chief Ryan is out on a Patrol boat keeping a migrant rescue NGO ship at safe distance, as much as they want to help out, no one on their rescue squad has the experience to work this zone let alone survive it.

If an accident happens in Malta waters with one of those NGO rescuers, it’s like a wave of investigations, inspections, litigation, press, Political scolding and talk show material for weeks.

And DJ’s famous, sometimes notorious world class rescue squad, don’t need any more press, good, bad or indifferent.

Flare Shot*

Hand signal,

Renni is on the outbound dead ahead, DJ moves left, North Side

Sprint, Breathe, Pump, Kick, Dive, Punch Out, …… 4,5,6,7

Grab 2, their holding on to a 3^rd, Rip current, bring em’ in, hold em’ close, check, check their life vest, cool the panic, Rescue boat in bound, power down, line up, pick up, swim back in the zone.

These rescued migrants, won’t be setting foot on Malta, they’ll go right to the NGO ship for medical and screening check’s then transported to a designated migrant port and camp.

In the background of all this, migrant camps are actually big business. They employ a services sector that didn’t exist before in many rural poor coastal areas. Food, logistics, fuel, security, temporary housing supplies, e-commerce, cheap labor for surrounding farms and building projects + services.

As the EU mocked the Americans for contracting out their Prison systems to for profit Corporations, Europe actually one up’d the business model in the refugee camp-migrant game.

That’s not criticizing the system, it is what it is, and Malta understandably is not taking in a migrant population on a small densely populated Archipelago that is known for its pristine tourist destination, nature preserves, international laid back business center and home to some of the greatest works of art and architecture of European - Mediterranean history and culture.  

Flare Shot*

Hand signal

Sprint

Breathe

Pump

Surge

Dive

Punch Out

1-2-3-4-

 Wave Silhouettes …. It’s boat debris

-5-

Two human silhouettes incoming on 6…..

DJ sprints in a left curve ahead of the shadows in a second by second, stroke by stroke, eye’s locked on target measuring a lead betting that the counter the current will pull the two in his line when he punches out the back of the wave, he’s gotta make the catch here so they don’t get sucked into the kill box on the cliffs……

Sprint

Breathe

Dive

Pump

Shadows of the deep blue

Kick

Surge

Sun rays arching towards the surface

Reach

Extend

Hand out, pump kick, fingers graze a life jacket, its slips away, #2 is a clean catch, grip, role, pull, pump kick with all he’s got.

Punch Out….

Gasp

 DJ turns, looks, a familiar face….

Amobi…..

No time for chat, smiles of glee say it all, DJ starts the tow as he reaches in his slim neoprene rescue vest, grabs a carabiner, tightens Amobi’s life vest, attaches a tether and clips in.

Amobi is gazing past DJ with eyes wide open in terror as a 10 meter wall is cresting, closing in with silhouettes of humans.

In that calm, low baritone voice DJ speaks;

“Look at me, Look at me mate, we can do this, breathe, come-on, in-out, 1, 2, don’t look at the wave, keep your eyes on me, right here, right now”

All the while he’s pump kicking outward on his back.

DJ doesn’t look at the incoming wave wall, he can feel it.

7

 It starts…..

The accelerated suction into the wave

The surge rise as the wave forms a lip before the tube breaks

DJ roles with a power kick

“Breath”!

Porpoise dive, dragging Amobi in an underwater water silent world from a meter in to 10, a full atmosphere change, liken to a pressure concussion, the eardrum pain is excruciating for Amobi as a 100 tons of dense liquid blast bye.

Seconds, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, punch out, breathe, DJ roles backside, Amobi surfaces in tow gasping for air as DJ starts the freestyle sprint.

And then the forward motion stagnates.

They were late on the punch out, the back suction starts, the demon of the undertow has begun, the deadly pull that sucks everything under, slamming, grinding and dragging deep on rocks below.

It doesn’t matter how hard DJ swims now, they’re going down, all he can do is pull Amobi in tight sync their breath and pray for the best.  

There are milliseconds in life that seem like forever and happenings that could be called miracles.

 Back to the beginning here, “water is a strange stuff”

“Weird Science” One of the measurement formulas in this weird aqua world is; Mass (x) times-velocity squared. The mathematicians can explain that, but no one knows exactly why it works the way it does at Sea.

And right now, a mystery of Mother Nature comes to life. The shock wave from the previous wave crashing into the cliffs, has sent a massive underwater wave in reverse into the oncoming wave that just broke.

 A collision of violent white water thrusting the two several meters up and out Seaward just past the strike zone in lull.

A RIB Rescue boat Zooms in, Trix at helm with her power girl crew.

Amobi is plucked out, DJ tries to lift himself, he’s exhausted and collapses back into the water one hand on the gunwale handle.

Flare Shot*

DJ drags alongside as the boat throttles up, he feels his grip slipping.

Two Rescue Woman grab DJ by the vest with one hand each, it’s a brute force baggage toss in the boat as he slams on deck, slides into the gunwale opposite, helmet recoils from the impact, as the boat acceleration slides him back with another body slam on the stern motor mounts knocking the air out of him.

He can hear the radio Comm’s, “Captain recovered on deck”

Sun in his eyes

Silhouettes of orange rescue helmets, power girl pony tails and Amobi

Uhahh….!

Breathe