Reuters North American News Service, November 6th, 2007
This repeats a text story from last month as Reuters is today
running Mollard's video of his journey with commentary
RABAT, Oct 10 (Reuters) - In his Saharan robes the tanned
Frenchman passed unnoticed in Nouadhibou, a chaotic Mauritanian
fishing port with an iron ore terminal and a lucrative second
line in drug and people smuggling.
Those he befriended knew Dominique Christian Mollard as an
undercover worker with a non-governmental organisation.
In reality he was an independent TV reporter waiting for a
chance to steal aboard a fishing boat packed with illegal
migrants for the perilous journey to Spain's Canary Islands.
Desperate to escape poverty, more than 30,000 Africans
risked their lives to reach the archipelago in 2006 but many
died on the way, victims of poor planning, treacherous seas or
people-traffickers. For the ones who made it, there was a new
battle for asylum papers to avoid deportation.
While he waited in Nouadhibou, the 58-year-old veteran of
wars in Afghanistan and Somalia shared a room with a group of
the travellers. He won their trust, recorded their dreams of
Europe and caught scabies, fleas and dysentery.
He struck deals with trafficking gangs but endured more than
20 false starts, was twice tricked out of his money and once
rounded up by gun-toting Mauritanian police.
In late August 2007, a year after his first failed attempt,
Mollard found himself aboard a 14-metre fishing boat chugging
into the dark, surging ocean with 38 seasick fellow passengers
for a voyage expected to last up to five days, if all went well.
Mollard had paid 850 euros ($1,198) to be packed in
alongside young people from Mali, the Democratic Republic of
Congo, Gambia, Mauritania, Ghana and Guinea Conakry with no
cooking gear, toilets or shelter.
Though he was well-equipped with flares, a GPS and satphone,
he had not accounted for their indiscipline and selfishness.
"I had expected more solidarity but it was every man for
himself -- people were nasty," he told Reuters in Rabat where he
lives.
There were four "captains", he said, and all were "doped
up". One turned to Mollard soon after they set off and demanded
money; another insisted the boat turn south instead of north to
the Canaries and drew a knife when Mollard argued back.
"I got mad at him in a dignified way," said Mollard. "I said
he was an idiot and if he wanted to arrive alive he had better
listen to what I was telling him."
He tried to pass energy bars across the boat to a Congolese
woman and her undernourished baby but the bars were partly eaten
by the others. People were soaked in sea spray and were soon too
ill to lean over the side to vomit.
"I was covered in puke -- it was disgusting. You understand
why so many die on this journey. People just let themselves die
because they don't move, eat or drink."
The poorly built boat leaked and the engine was constantly
cutting out. They discovered the fuel had been deliberately
mixed with water which they managed to syphon off.
After the sun set on the second day the sea grew rough and
the engine died. The captains dismantled it, than replaced it
with an older one. Nothing worked.
The lights of a tall cargo ship appeared half a kilometre
away and the panicking migrants lit a distress flare, but the
ship lumbered on heedless into the night.
"As the night went by, we were drifting in rough seas and
people were starting to scream, to cry, to pray."
Early on the third day, Mollard decided to use the satphone
he had brought along but hidden up to then for fear of raising
suspicions that he would give the migrants away.
He called the Spanish coastguard and was told a Russian oil
tanker would switch course, pick them up and hand them over to a
Spanish patrol boat that would take them to Canaries.
The immense tanker hove into view and drew alongside, the
migrants ran to grab the rope ladder cast down to them. The
fishing boat leaned into the three-metre swell.
"We were in serious danger of capsizing. I had to hit
people, slap them," said Mollard. "One of the captains had a
piece of wood and was threatening them."
The baby was hoisted from the boat in a bin but the mother
panicked as she climbed the ladder and plunged into the waves.
She was dragged out by the other passengers and all
eventually arrived safely on the tanker's deck. Celebrations
broke out, but later as the tanker approached a patrol boat,
hope gave way to despair.
"I saw Moroccan uniforms. Then I looked at my GPS and saw we
were just 5 miles from Dakhla in Western Sahara. The migrants
were back to square one, or in fact square minus one as most are
still in an internment camp."
Mollard is preparing a documentary of his experience.
