A pilot sails in Noah’s Ark

Irecently attended a meeting at the Israel Navy headquarters in Tel Aviv, and took the opportunity to visit old friends. The commander of the navy, V.-Adm. Ram Rotenberg, and his chief of staff, R.-Adm. Yaron Levy, were in a hurry to join a room full of officers with serious-looking expressions on their faces. I had seen such excitement before, and wondered what the navy was up to this time. Last week’s raid on the Iranian arms ship Klos-C solved the mystery, and took me back to the interception of the ship Karine-A in the Red Sea, on January 3, 2002. While I was serving as head of helicopter operations at the Air Force Headquarters, navy officials requested our assistance in capturing a ship that had been purchased by the Palestinian Authority, loaded with weapons in Iran, and was heading toward the Gaza Strip. The operation was code-named “Noah’s Ark.” We enthusiastically engaged in detailed planning, conducted dedicated training sessions and rehearsals, and coordinated with all air force units involved. New techniques and creative solutions were invented to answer the extreme and complex challenges we faced. I managed to persuade the commander of the operation, Chief of Naval Operations R.-Adm. Eli “Chiney” Marom, to take me with him as liaison officer and adviser. He agreed, on condition that I didn’t vomit during a training session in the Mediterranean. I kept it in, so I was in. Our command group flew to Eilat, where the naval forces were converging. I enjoyed my status as adviser and remained close to Marom throughout all the intelligence updates, situational assessments, gear checks and briefings. The ship was delayed due to engine problems, so we ended up spending a few days in Eilat, but the decision to launch was finally made. We set out before dawn, with all base personnel on the docks, waving and wishing us good luck. It was a surreal experience, unlike any mission launch I had ever seen. It took me time to get accustomed to the swaying, and when I looked back after a while, I was surprised to still see Eilat. “Wow, this is slow,” I said. “At sea, you need a lot of patience,” Marom explained. I began touring the ship and getting acquainted with the crew and its routine. I was highly appreciative that they had given me my own bunk, marked “the pilot.” Dinner that evening was one of the best meals I ever ate, and after that, I sat on the commander’s seat on deck, dazzled by the brilliant night sky. The sea was as smooth as glass, and I commented on this. “Just you wait,” Levy said, smiling. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Marom selected Levy to join the command group, and he became my mentor and protector, saving me from foolish novice mistakes, such as whistling on the bridge. Being at sea was different physically, and emotionally, the result of being alone, so far from home, and facing challenges posed by nature and man. On top of this, there was getting accustomed to a completely different organizational culture, language, traditions and humor. Throughout the mission, I witnessed incredible procedures and maneuvers. A diverse team of professionals demonstrated original thinking, determination and wholehearted devotion to the mission. I was not only impressed. I was awestruck. A severe storm was headed our way, so Marom decided to sail south and intercept as soon as possible. This led to significant operational ramifications, some contradictory to all we had planned, but the appropriate adaptations were made. “At sea, when you are given a chance, you grab it,” he said. It was time. Naval and air assets began closing in on the Karine-A. We stood huddled in the command ship, observing via thermal imagery the events unfolding on the target. Suddenly, something unexpected happened, and I recommended launching an aerial maneuver earlier than planned. Marom agreed, and ordered Levy to call out the codename: “Harry Potter.” With perfect timing, the deck was overrun with Flotilla 13 commandos, commanded by Ram, surprising the crew and seizing control of the ship. The sight of everyone performing the orchestrated operation so smoothly was magnificent. We were immediately whisked over by speed boat to the Karine-A, and we took control of the bridge. We descended to the cargo bay and soon uncovered huge quantities of advanced weaponry, including Katyusha rockets, AK-47 and Dragunov rifles, mortar shells, mines, explosives and anti-tank missiles. Everything had been skillfully packed within huge flotation devices, including tool kits and accessories. We were thunderstruck, realizing that these weapons could have changed the balance of power and wreaked terror on Israeli civilians. I declared myself navigator of the Karine-A, as I was familiar with the instrumentation. My navy friends honored me by accepting my comments and advice, and Marom approved, with minor corrections, my plan on how to cross the Straits of Tiran. Sailing home was no treat. The sea was extremely rough, and the ship was bobbing up and down violently, its rundown smoky engine producing a meager 4-8 knots. A helicopter from my squadron delivered food, and as it hovered overhead, Erran, the pilot, broadcasted: “Reuven, we’re hoisting you up!” Marom was shocked and said: “We set out as a team, and we’re returning home as a team.” He was right, of course. During the next two days, much effort was put into extracting the weapons, and we sent footage to the folks back home, who were eager to see the results. A few hours before arrival in the port of Eilat , an armada of navy vessels passed us in salute formation. The commandos stood on the deck of the Karine-A, brandishing the seized weapons and screaming at the top of their lungs. It was a remarkable and touching moment I will never forget. I could see the lights of Eilat gleaming in the distance, but I didn’t run to collect my things. I was an experienced seafarer by now, and “at sea, you need a lot of patience.” Twelve years have passed, and here we are, still engaged in defending Israel from Iran’s efforts to promote and inflict terrorism on our civilians. One might think that the clashes between Iran and Israel are mostly verbal, on the diplomatic front at the UN and in the media. But it is a very real confrontation, of much more than just rhetoric. Iran is waging an aggressive campaign to become a regional hegemon. Besides declaring the intention to destroy Israel and striving to acquire nuclear weapons, it is attacking Israel regularly, by arming, funding and training proxy forces. Israel protects its citizens and interests by thwarting arms shipments, and by crippling efforts to build destructive capabilities. Success depends on superb intelligence and streamlined inter-agency efforts. Israel’s weapon of choice is now the keyboard, and when necessary, the long and capable arms of the IDF and the Mossad are unleashed. I salute the extraordinary men and women from all defense agencies who performed well last week, and who dedicate themselves year-round to the protection of Israel. The writer is a former Israel Air Force pilot, founder of Cross-Cultural Strategies Ltd. and project manager at CockpitRM. reuven@CCSt.co.il