As India prepared to celebrate its 75th Republic Day on January 26, 2024, a true drama of valour and indomitable courage was unfolding far away on the high seas. The INS Visakhapatnam, the first of the Indian Navy’s indigenously built P15B class of destroyers, was patrolling the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea, protecting the country’s vital maritime interests.
This region, once notorious for piracy by Somalia-based groups that disrupted shipping lanes, had seen its safety partially restored thanks to a multinational effort, with the Indian Navy playing a pivotal role. However, the recent Israel-Hamas conflict in Gaza emboldened non-state actors, leading to new threats. One such development was when the Yemen-based Houthi rebels, declaring solidarity with Gaza residents, launched a series of attacks on commercial shipping passing through the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. The Navy responded by independently deploying frontline assets to safeguard Indian maritime interests and instil assurance in the seafaring community.
I was the Engineer Officer of the Watch (responsible for the safe and efficient operation of the ship's engine room during their shift) on board INS Visakhapatnam, controlling the main propulsion and all supporting auxiliaries on that night. Although there was palpable tension due to the recent Houthi attacks on unarmed merchant vessels (MVs), our Captain’s orders were: “We have a job to do, and we will go into harm’s way and tackle it like true warriors.”
The adrenaline rush began when the Principal Warfare Officer announced a distress call from MV Marlin Luanda in our vicinity. This moment redefined me as a combatant, a naval leader, and a human being over the next 16 hours. MV Marlin Luanda reported being struck by a projectile, which caused a fire in a tank containing 90,000 tonnes of naptha, a highly inflammable substance. Naphtha can be potentially fatal, causing irritation and affecting the central nervous system. INS Visakhapatnam immediately set a course for the distressed vessel, putting on maximum speed and touching 30 knots, reaching the site just past midnight on the intervening night of January 26 and 27.
The first sight of the blaze remains unforgettable: a roaring fire, akin to an angry dragon spreading its fury. The master of the MV, exhausted after fighting the fire for over five hours with limited resources, conveyed a sense of palpable distress. MVs, being leanly manned, are not equipped to handle combat damage. The good news was that all 27 crew members (24 Indians, one Bangladeshi, and two Sri Lankans) were safe but extremely tired. Our Captain made it clear: “We are here to do our best to save the crew and the merchant vessel come what may!”
After a swift strategy session on board, numerous multi-specialty rescue teams were formed and I was included in one of them. The Captain and the Principal Warfare Officer had difficulty turning away volunteers eager to go into harm’s way and live up to the ship’s motto: Yasho Labhasva (“Attain glory”). As dawn broke, the master of MV Marlin Luanda formally requested assistance. Immediately, our ship’s boats were deployed to transfer the rescue teams, along with specialised firefighting equipment and material. Lugging the heavy equipment onto the MV's freeboard was no easy task. Once aboard, the Navy team first focused on reassuring the tired and stressed crew.
Once the MV’s master and its chief engineer briefed the rescue team on the vessel's specifics, the damage, and the possible avenues to tackle the rising blaze, a quick plan was formulated. Nothing, however, prepared me for the sheer scale of the challenge until we approached the tank, just 20 metres from the fire. The heat was unbearable, the equipment was melting, and the flames were as high as the vessel’s cargo crane. The fire’s epicentre was a gaping two-metre-radius hole, assessed to have been caused by a ballistic missile impact. A quick SWOT analysis left the team with no option but to extinguish the fire to prevent the ship from becoming an uncontrollable ticking time bomb. One adage resonated deeply: “The more you sweat in peace, the less you bleed in war.”
An ingenious strategy was devised: the master was instructed to steer the MV on a heading that would blow the flames away from the approaching firefighters. Working on naval ships and MVs presents unique challenges due to differing standards, equipment variants, and construction methods. Interfacing our equipment with the MV’s onboard systems proved tricky. Combining our expertise, we transferred the foam generating solution we carried to the vessel’s compatible equipment.
Ready for the offensive, our first attempt to control the fire began. We risked life and limb, yet seconds after suppressing the flames, they would instantly rekindle. The rescue team was forced to revert to the basics of the classical fire triangle: heat, oxygen, and fuel. To stop the fire, we needed to deny it oxygen, which was abundantly available due to the open-air exposure.
Necessity breeds invention, and a quick “fireside chat” led to a groundbreaking idea: covering the gaping hole with metal plates. The rescue team and the MV’s crew quickly located and welded two metallic plates together — a hazardous task given the raging fire and cargo. It took the superhuman effort of eight men to move the plates near the fire.
It was 10 am; the blaze had been alive for over 15 hours. We launched an all-out attack, approaching from all sides, spraying water and foam. The intense heat, combined with our heavy protective suits, caused immense fatigue and dehydration. Vision was often blurred, and rashes appeared from the constant exposure to extreme heat. We successfully laid a layer of foam, only to discover a new problem: large volumes of water had entered the tank. The water settled at the bottom, pushing the naphtha upwards and reigniting the fire.
At that moment, I decided that enough was enough. I handed my hose to my buddy and resolved to somehow push the metallic plate over the hole. Together, we pushed the heavy plate within two metres of the blazing inferno. Any closer seemed humanly impossible. I decided to take the lead, pushing the plates inch by inch onto the flame, while the entire team continuously dozed me with water. Slowly, the dragon weakened, and the 16-hour saga of spewing fire came to an end. It suddenly dawned on all of us that we had won an almost lost battle.
As we drew the curtains on this hard-fought victory, we were overwhelmed by a sense of achievement through teamwork and profound gratitude from the master and the crew. The MV’s crew, who had contemplated abandoning the ship in despair, were now confident of taking their vessel to port for necessary repairs. The resolute action taken by the Indian Navy, acting as the “first responder” and ensuring overall maritime security in the region, was indelibly etched in stone.
 "Blaze of glory")
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