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us. They had all been at sea for nearly three months and were soon to depart for home with a full catch. They were paid only a percentage of the catch so, with the booty of Patagonian toothfish now being confiscated, they were very aware that the past several months of hard work would result in no monetary reward. These were hardly the terrorists my training had prepared me for.
    One of the navy steaming party helped me secure this motley crew in the galley. It is hard to look intimidating whenyou’re dressed in a bright-orange immersion suit. I maintained a faceless image by wearing my Oakley facemask, which provided a dehumanising barrier between me and our captives.
    My naval companion was increasingly uncomfortable with the situation, recoiling as the angry mob blew cigarette smoke towards us and barked insults in Spanish. ‘They’re staring at me,’ he quavered. I swallowed my impatience with his pathetic tone and sent him out to assist another member of our team in securing six more crew-members in the engine room.
    This was not the place to show weakness. I would not let myself be intimidated by this seedy bunch. Their gritted teeth and angry snarls exposed less than full complements of yellow decaying teeth. In contrast, I had a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun in my hands, with thirty 9-mm deterrents. I focused on my training: remain neutral – firm and fair; remain alert – don’t engage in conversation beyond simple instructions. No swearing, no insults. Despite the rush of adrenaline I was getting, this felt a long way from the joking and mucking around of training. Sorry, boys, this is just business .
    Several members of the crew tried to intimidate us. One guy had a large scar running from his left eye to his chin – like a James Bond villain. Each time I turned my attention from him to one of his crewmates, he would loudly bark what sounded like instructions to the others. When I focused on him again he would stand stock-still, glaring at me without a word. I was reluctant to break eye contact. Why should he win? The best solution was to shine the torch on the front of my weapon directly into his eyes. The blinding light helped me regain authority and, with a fresh set of batteries in my torch, I was confident these games could go on for hours.
    Another crew-member stepped forward, holding a picture of his family in front of him and yelling, ‘Bambino, bambino,bambino.’ The weight of the fear these men were feeling suddenly hit me. I slowly nodded my head before giving him a non-threatening thumbs-up. This reassured the group, as they seemed to understand that the operation was a formality rather than a life-threatening situation for them. The tone of the room quickly changed and one of their chefs offered me a couple of pancakes. I thanked him but waved him away.
    The remaining members of the assault team were scouring the ship for weapons and other personnel. Buzz was working with two fisheries officers who had joined the assault team. Their role was to find enough evidence to support the confiscation of the ship and enable charges to be laid against its skipper. After a little while, a triumphant shout rang out from the hold. There was $2 million worth of oversized, big-toothed fish buried in the freezers – these would do the trick nicely.

After the initial rush of the assault, I felt the adrenaline drain from my body. I could still taste the exhilaration of action at the back of my mouth, and I tried to savour the moment for as long as I could. It was a sensation I would grow very used to in the years to come.
    A two-man security team, Buzz and I, remained on the vessel to provide armed protection for the navy steaming party of seven men. The remaining members of our assault team returned to the HMAS Newcastle to support subsequent tasks.
    Our packs, filled with food and sleeping equipment, did not arrive on the first night as planned. The robust inflatable