The Albatros And The Pirates Of Galguduud. Federico Supervielle
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didn’t seem comfortable in the position.
This is going to be interesting, thought Reyes.
“Well, Mr. Guerra, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” he said.
A practical man would appreciate that subtlety.
“The man I represent,” he continued, “Mr. Friedrich Gotthelf, is interested in acquiring a ship with similar characteristics to a BAM. His starting offer is sixty million Euros. For anything above that amount I will have to consult with him and get his approval.
After thinking about it the night before, this strategy seemed to be the best. He was offering a fairly low price, like any good haggler, but not so low as to discourage negotiation. In addition, when playing the card of needing Mr. Gotthelf’s authorization he gained valuable time to study their counteroffer and plan his response accordingly. It really was all bluff. He virtually had carte blanche to negotiate.
“I’m glad to see you don’t like beating around the bush. However, I must tell you that I can’t accept your offer. With what you’re offering I can scrap the ships, sell them for parts and get more out of them.”
This is going to be interesting, thought Reyes. Guerra was not a fool. He knew how to negotiate and probably thought, if he didn’t already know for sure, that it was practically the only chance Gotthelf had for carrying out his innovative project.
After a long morning of negotiations, offers and counter offers, make-believe calls to Switzerland and tedious renegotiation, the two men reached an agreement over ninety million Euros. Reyes knew that Gotthelf would not have minded paying double that amount, but that was no reason to throw money away.
In addition, throughout the morning a light bulb had gone off in his head and he had added a condition to his requirements. The final agreement included the use of the shipyards for whatever small remodeling work he thought necessary. Reyes knew that for the Spanish company that was the only way to keep many of its employees working and not have to resort to laying them off. While for him, it was the solution for another small problem. He had not only acquired a boat, but also the means and staff better qualified to finish it according to his specifications.
Excited, he called Mr. Gotthelf (this time for real) to give him the good news. He seemed delighted and congratulated him on his progress. He also informed him that contacts with the Somali government remained satisfactory and that Egger had recommended that the ship navigate under a Somali flag to avoid problems and facilitate some legal aspects. Reyes had no objections to the idea. In the world of merchant shipping it was not unusual to sail under flags that had nothing to do with the nationality of the company, the owner, the captain, or home port.
Lastly, Mr. Gotthelf gave him a responsibility he had not anticipated.
“Well, Mr. Reyes, you found the boat, you may have the honor of naming it.”
That was something Reyes had not anticipated. He could not help but smile at the thought of how something that seemed so trivial would probably take him just as long to do as some of the major tasks.
Once back with Guerra, he decided to tackle what seemed to be the last hurdle.
“Mr. Guerra, up until now you and I have reached an agreement on a ship that your company has built. However, that ship is riddled with technology developed in cooperation with the government. Do you have some sort of plan to get a permit for selling it to private buyers?”
Guerra smiled with the air of someone who’s already thinking three steps ahead.
“Let’s just say that bridge’s is already been crossed,” he said. “Spain can’t afford to lose its only military shipyards nor generate thousands of layoffs. I have obtained permission to sell the technology on the condition that it will never be used against Spain or any of its allies. If so, the sales contract would be immediately revoked without possibility of a refund.”
Reyes could not ask for more.
“I just have to ask you,” the engineer said, “to give your project some positive publicity. It won’t hurt, and let’s just say the government would like its citizens to know that the technology that has been developed with everyone’s money is going to be used to do good.”
And that was not a very indirect way of saying that the government wanted to make sure they had public opinion on their side.
Reyes knew that Guerra was right, and that some publicity was certainly not going to do them any harm. He imagined the government would present this sale as an excellent way out of a somewhat complicated situation. As far as he was concerned, he knew exactly who he had to call to get a couple of pages in a national newspaper. Inflow of foreign capital, generating and maintaining jobs, and the possible eradication of damages inflicted on innocent people by evil pirates, were the perfect arguments to convince anyone.
“Splendid Mr. Guerra! It has been a pleasure doing business with you. In a few days you will hear from me with the modifications I have in mind.”
And with that, Reyes said goodbye, looking forward to an afternoon off to celebrate the strides his project had taken.
Then he remembered he had an appointment.
#
Pablo Marzán Febles’ phone rang.
“It’s Nacho,” he told his brother Javi before answering.
“What’s up Nacho?”
After listening for a couple of minutes he replied, “All right, I’ll be right there.”
After putting his phone away he looked up and met the quizzical look of his older brother.
“He wants me to meet someone. He didn’t tell me who it is or what he wants but he hinted at maybe having a job for me. Apparently they met on the train,” he said, making a face to indicate he didn’t know what to make of it all.
Pablo watched his brother carefully. He had always been a role model and a source of good advice. Even then, at thirty-three years old, sitting on the sofa in his older brother’s living room and drinking coffee after the amazing dinner they had just had, Pablo was surprised at the influence Javi had on his life.
The oldest of the Marzán Febles brothers was thirty-nine; married, with three kids. He had become a Navy officer following his father’s footsteps. He was already a lieutenant commander and was assigned as a teacher at the nearby NCO School in San Fernando.
He had always had great drive and enthusiasm for his work, but over the years he had become disillusioned with it. The lack of real-life operations and the enormous political restrictions on the ones that had taken place had disappointed him. Besides, he had discovered a second passion: teaching, which he was doing at present. Having a family also played a part in the fact that now he only asked assignments on ships as commanding officer or to meet the minimum years of embarkation required for promotion.
From what Pablo knew and had heard, his older brother was really good at his job and truly believed in the Navy, but not in how it was used. When the youngest boy was a teenager, Javi’s influence, even more than that of his father, had made him want to enroll in the Naval Academy, the training center of naval officers. However, some comments from his brother and idol disconcerted him and he had decided to talk to him.
He could still remember every detail of that long chat. His brother had not been long out of school, but was beginning to realize that it had not been exactly what he had expected. It’s not that he regretted his choice because he had always wanted to serve Spain, but he also knew that his chosen career would have very frustrating moments.
As the responsible, older brother he had wanted to convey all this to young Pablo in that conversation. He never discouraged or tried to influence his decision. No one better than he knew that the military offered economic security, albeit not luxurious, but it was something to be thankful for. It also provided opportunities to travel and to live quite unique experiences. And he never criticized. He devoted himself to show Pablo objectively all those things that only could be seen from