My first boarding mission

By Leading Seaman Daniel Evans

"Starboard Watch to boarding stations, Starboard Watch to boarding stations. Upper decks are out of bounds." The pipe shook me out of what threatened to be a regular day of ship’s maintenance and training for the boarding team. I was glad to hear the news; HMCS Vancouver had begun patrolling the Libyan coast only a few days before and I was eager to conduct my first boarding.

"Here we go," I thought to myself. It was my first operational boarding, on my first operational tour, on my first "high-readiness" operational ship. For me, that’s a lot of firsts. Even with all the training and preparation the boarding team (and the ship) had undergone before this mission; nothing could ease my anxiety or calm the butterflies in my stomach.

For some members of the boarding team, this too was their first boarding. The jokes and small talk that passed between us as we readied ourselves served their purpose in taking the edge off. I was beginning to relax. It’s hard to describe what goes through one’s mind in a situation like this. My thoughts drifted to my wife and two kids. I couldn’t help but think that if all went well, it would make for a good story to tell them when I came home.

Once we had suited up and checked our weapons, we mustered on the starboard boat deck for the Captain to brief us. Commander Peats gave us everything we needed to know about the vessel, a clear understanding of our mission, and assured us the ship would be close by to watch our backs.

The "vessel of interest" was a tug in transit from the recently liberated port of Al Khums. Seeing a golden opportunity to gather information on the port, the commander of Task Group 455.01 directed Vancouver to conduct a boarding.

The one-metre seas demanded some fast footwork as we boarded the rigid-hull inflatable boat (RHIB) while the boat’s coxswain fought to keep steady contact with the side of the ship. Once in the RHIB, I was soaked from head to toe as the sea pounded us. As soon as we collected the last member of the team, we peeled away from Vancouver and made our way over to our objective.

I could see the tug n the distance. I was expecting it to be in poor shape, but once aboard and the search begun, I was surprised to find that it clean and well kept. The paint was bright and new, the interior very neat and orderly. There were indications that it had once been equipped for mine-laying and that the pro-Gadhafi forces may have used it for that purpose earlier in the war.

After a thorough search and confirmation of documents for both the vessel and its crew, the tug was cleared to proceed to its next port of call.

On my way back to the RHIB, one of the tug’s crew took my hand and shook it hard.

"Thank you," the man said. "Thank you, Canada, for helping us and protecting Libyans."

Three words stood out in my mind: "Thank you Canada." That’s when I saw the much bigger picture that I was a part of. This man wasn’t thanking me; he was thanking my country. Canada was among the first of many nations to answer the call to aid and protect Libyan civilians. Any anxiety I had left began to give way to pride.

With a polite nod and a smile, I replied, "You are very welcome."