Dead in the Water: Murder and Fraud in the World's Most Secretive Industry

by Matthew Campbell

Shortly after Plakakis arrived, a fishing trawler pulled up alongside the Brillante, mooring next to one of Poseidon’s boats. Dusk was approaching as one of its passengers, a broad-shouldered British man with a bald, sun-worn head, clambered off. Thanks to his years in London, Plakakis spoke better English than the other Greeks, and he helped David Mockett get oriented. Mockett’s survey wouldn’t begin until morning, and Plakakis showed him to the bed on the Vergina where he would spend the night. Though he was still new to the world of salvage, Plakakis understood Mockett’s role: to evaluate the condition of the ship and send a report back to Lloyd’s, where its insurers would decide whether to pay out. Before everyone turned in, Plakakis joined Vergos and Mockett for dinner. Around the table, the men got to talking about their families, and how they came to be in such a remote part of the Middle East. Both Vergos and Mockett had grown daughters in their home countries, and the surveyor mentioned that he had a crop of grandchildren, whose exploits delighted him when he was in England. That prompted Vergos to turn to Mockett with some unsolicited counsel. “At your age,” he said, “it’s better to stay with your grandchildren.” Why run around a dangerous place like Yemen? Vergos repeated the advice: “You can go back to your country and enjoy your grandchildren.”