Israel Hayom..
12 April '13..
"I think I was guided by divine inspiration that day," says Capt. (res.) Danny Halevi, commander of the Israel Navy missile boat Moledet in the spring of 1985. His eyes glisten as he speaks. Even now, he cannot explain the events of that night 28 years ago when, of the 70 vessels he saw that night, he identified the terrorist ship Ataviros, which was on its way to perpetrate a terror attack in Tel Aviv for the purpose of seizing hostages on Israel's 37th Independence Day.
The Ataviros, which sailed under the Panamanian flag, was supposed to drop anchor about 60 miles (110 kilometers) west of Tel Aviv, sending 20 Palestine Liberation Organization commandos ashore in three well-equipped rubber dinghies.
Once the dinghies were on their way, the vessel planned to return to Port Said to wait. The dinghies were to make for the beach at Bat Yam, avoiding the use of communications equipment or contact with any other vessel. On arrival, the terrorists were to sink or bury the dinghies.
The terrorists would then hijack a bus and take it to the Kirya military headquarters in Tel Aviv at approximately 9 a.m., in the belief that many soldiers would be back from weekend leave. They planned to take over the Defense Ministry or the Israel Defense Forces General Staff building, seize as many hostages as possible, and demand the release of 150 terrorists held by Israel. After the takeover, the terrorists were to split up into units and secure the building to keep IDF troops from breaking in. If anything in the plan went wrong, their orders were to open fire and kill the hostages en masse.
The terrorists had spent almost a year training for the terror attack. If it had taken place, it would have turned that Independence Day into one of the darkest in Israel's history.
Evil arrives from the sea
The head of the PLO's military wing, Abu Jihad (Khalil al-Wazir), realized as far back as the 1970s that the sea was Israel's weak point. He developed a model of terror attacks by sea: A vessel approaches the Israeli coast, terrorists head for shore in rubber dinghies, arrive on the beach and carry out a terror attack at a location near the sea.
The first terror attack of this kind to be carried out took place on March 5, 1975, when eight terrorists reached the shores of Tel Aviv under cover of darkness and broke into the Savoy Hotel. Eleven Israelis were killed, including Capt. Uzi Yairi, the commander of the Sayeret Matkal commando unit, who took part in the operation to free the hostages. Three years later, almost to the day, on March 11, 1978, Fatah terrorists arrived at the Maagan Michael beach and hijacked a tourist bus traveling on the coastal highway. In the attack, 35 Israelis were killed and about 70 wounded.
Until Yasser Arafat and his associates left Lebanon in late 1983, the PLO set out from Lebanese ports to perpetrate terror attacks against Israel. When PLO officials moved to countries such as Tunisia, Algeria, Libya and even Yemen, the situation changed.
"Abu Jihad wanted to commit a mass terror attack to show that the armed struggle against Israel was continuing even though they had been thrown out of Lebanon," recalls Capt. (res.) S. a former high-ranking naval intelligence official. "Two schools of thought about committing terror attacks developed. One was that of Arafat, who specialized in the "shakshuka" method — in other words, hasty planning and immediate execution. The other was that of Abu Jihad, the father of the "slow-cooker" method — letting the plan ripen until everything was well prepared. So when we discovered in 1984 that the PLO had bought two merchant vessels, Moon Light and Ataviros, we realized that Abu Jihad was planning to serve us quite a meal."
On April 6, four missile boats set out from Israel to Algeria, 1,800 miles (2,900 kilometers) from the Israeli coast, on Operation Way of the Hawk. Members of Shayetet 13 (Flotilla 13 Naval Commando Unit) and of the missile-boat command located the Moon Light at the Annaba port in eastern Algeria and blew it up. When the Avateros was not found, IDF officials realized it was en route and began hunting for it.
"The big question was where the boat was. It was according to that question that we tried to guess when it was supposed to arrive at the Israeli coast," says S., who was then the head of the unit that dealt with terrorism by sea. "We put the mosaic together using material that was in the open, material that had been seized on other ships we had seized and material seized during the Lebanon war. It was a Sisyphean effort that involved cataloging, labeling and connecting fragments of information. Two areas that were the most significant in understanding the picture were research on seamanship, which developed a great deal during that time, and studying the individuals involved, which was done a great deal following our experience in Lebanon.
"When we start seeing people whose way of life we know behaving in unusual ways, that triggers a warning light. When we start seeing a lot of activity in sailing activity, that warning is already screaming. We put all the pieces of the puzzle together and realized that the arrival date was most likely the weekend of April 19 and 20 — six days before Independence Day."
For four weeks, Israel Air Force aircraft combed the sea in search of the Avateros, to no avail. On Friday, April 19, Capt. Shimon Meir, the commander of the missile boat commando unit, ordered a seaborne search for the vessel. He summoned two ship's captains — Commander Danny Halevi, then 37 years old, commanding officer of the Moledet, and Captain Yaron Tzohar, 27, commanding officer of the Mivtah.
"I remember that after the audacious operation when the Moon Light was sunk, I was very angry that I hadn't taken part in it," says Halevi, a tone of disappointment evident in his voice even today. "I actually didn't know about the operation's existence at all. Then, suddenly, I got a second chance. Shimon gave me a sketch of the ship that highlighted a very important part: on the back hull was a door that lifted, which was very unusual. There are almost no vessels like that. I knew that the moment we found a ship with a door like that, I had to make sure that door would never open."
A late-night mishap
The Moledet, a Saar 4-class missile boat, set out to patrol Israel's southern coast. It carried about 50 troops, including troops from Shayetet 13 with rubber dinghies of their own, troops from the Central Collection Unit of the Intelligence Corps and troops from the IDF Signal Corps. Halevy did not tell them what they were looking for. "I didn't want to raise expectations, so I told them we were going out on patrol. Even so, they told me at headquarters that we didn't have much chance of finding it," he says.
The Mivtah (a Saar 2-class vessel) under Cpt. Tzohar, set out to patrol the northern coast. Tzohar received the announcement on Friday morning, when he had already prepared to return home with his crew. "They said: 'You have to help locate a terrorist ship,'" he recalls. "We did a short systems check and headed out."
Late that night, one of the Moledet's engines failed, making it doubtful that it could continue the search. Halevi decided to keep going with only three engines. "We usually don't sail with three engines. We just go back to shore. But I asked for permission to neutralize the head of the engine that wasn't working and stay on the mission. The request was granted, which made me happy."
On Saturday noon, when the Moledet was south of Ashkelon, its radar located several targets a few hundred miles south of the patrol route. "Weather conditions were excellent, and we saw them very well. It looked very suspicious, and I asked for permission to leave the patrol route to inspect the targets more closely."
After noon, the Moledet approached to within about 30 miles (50 kilometers) of Port Said. "I remember thinking that if anyone wanted to commit a large-scale terror attack in Israel, he would do it before Independence Day, and he would come from this direction. I knew that at 7 p.m., a convoy of ships was supposed to leave the Suez Canal and sail for Port Said, which was at the canal's northern opening. I stopped the vessel in a strategic location where I could look out over long distances and see whatever was happening at Port Said. I don't even remember whether I reported my decision to stop there."
At 10 p.m., exactly according to Halevi's scenario, the convoy of ships began to move northward. Dozens of small points popped up on the ship's radar. Halevy decided not to examine any vessels heading northwest, whose destinations appeared to be African ports, and concentrate on the 25 ships heading northeast toward Syria or Lebanon.
He checked the course and speed of each of the ships and found one whose course would take it close to the Tel Aviv coastline. At this stage, he decided to tell his crew that they were about to encounter a hostile vessel, but did not tell them that it carried terrorists.
The ship left the Egyptian port with the Israeli vessel following behind at a distance. There was no moon that night, and adrenaline levels on board the Moledet were sky-high.
The smell of diesel fuel in the air
At 11:15 p.m., the Moledet approached the suspicious vessel. The xenon lamp shone for a fraction of a second, just enough to see the vessel's name clearly: Ataviros. A few more brief flashes showed the unique door in the hulls. Now Halevi told the crew that the ship was carrying terrorists and that it could not be allowed to reach the coast or stop. "I knew that as long as the ship was moving, the door could not be opened to let down the terrorists in the rubber dinghies," he said.
11:37 p.m. The Moledet's radio officers raise the Ataviros on an international radio frequency and asked it to change course and head northwest. The captain of the Ataviros answers that he is in Egyptian territorial waters and keeps moving.
12:09 a.m. Halevi asks the headquarters in Tel Aviv for permission to fire a warning shot, and receives it. When he is about 3 miles (5 kilometers) away from the Ataviros, the latter suddenly changes course and begins sailing back toward Port Said. The captain of the Moledet now has to make a critical decision.
"On the one hand, it was obvious that we couldn't let the ship go back to Egyptian territorial waters because then I wouldn't be able to do anything anymore. On the other hand, I didn't want to wake up the whole area and create a commotion. I decided to ask the Arabic-speakers who were with us to talk with the people on board the Ataviros and ask them to change course. The only thing I cared about at that point was to keep them away from Israel's shores. The terrorists answered over the radio: 'We know you're Jews. We won't surrender to you.'"
12:30 a.m. Halevi fires a warning shot from the Vulcan cannon across the bow of the Ataviros, but the Ataviros continues on course. Then, suddenly, a rocket-propelled grenade is fired at the Moledet, accompanied by light gunfire. At that moment, it becomes clear beyond any doubt that the Ataviros is a terrorist ship.
Captain Tzohar and the Mivtah are somewhere on the northern patrol route when they realize that something is happening down south. "Suddenly, I heard over the radio that Danny was being fired upon, and I was far away and couldn't help. I ordered the ship to turn around and head south as quickly as possible. We increased engine speed almost to the limit."
Ensign Moshe (Shiko) Zana, the 1st assistant engineer on board the Mivtah and today a rear admiral and the commander of the navy's Materiel Command, remembers that moment vividly. "It brought home to me, for the first time, how powerful the navy is. The captain of the vessel asked us to increase speed to 40 knots [46 miles per hour], when usually we sail on patrol at 20 knots. The engines roared and screamed, the heat was terrible, but all I wanted at that moment was to get to the destination."
Halevi receives an order to shoot to paralyze. He distances himself from the Ataviros so he will be able to fire shells from the 76-mm cannon. From 1.7 miles (2.7 kilometers) away, he opens fire massively.
Forty-two shells are fired at the Ataviros. After a few minutes, the weapons officer reports that the target is no longer on the radar.
"I thought I should be seeing a big fireball," Danny Halevi says. "I'd never destroyed a vessel before that time. All the systems told me that the target could not be located, and I thought that the mechanism that locked the gun onto the target had broken. It never occurred to me that the ship had simply sunk. I remember saying to myself: How the hell do I go back to Israel now and tell them I lost the target?"
At about 1 a.m., Halevi decided to sail to the last point where the Ataviros had been spotted on the radar. "While we were moving toward the target, we saw two vessels heading toward us at 22 knots [25 miles per hour] from the direction of Port Said. We could tell they were missile boats from the speed, even though I knew that according to the cease-fire agreement with Egypt, no missile boats were allowed to be in the area."
A few minutes later, the Egyptian missile boats turned around and went back to Port Said and the Moledet continued searching for the Ataviros. From the odor of diesel fuel in the air and the many sharks in the water, Halevi knew that the ship had not vanished. It had sunk.
Relief washed over Halevi. "Later on, I also realized that the second shell had torn a hole in the hull and water had gone into the ship," he says.
As Moledet got closer to the place where Ataviros had gone down, the crew began hearing shrill whistles — and realized that there were terrorists in the water, still alive.
A broom lashed to the mast
At this point, the Mivtah arrived after a two-hour voyage at dizzying speed. "I was afraid the engines wouldn't last, but we were lucky," says Moshe Zana. "When we got there, the Ataviros had already gone down, but we had the great honor of helping our friends pick up the terrorists."
Halevi: "I knew these were Abu Jihad's elite terrorists, and I wasn't willing to take risks. Instead of lowering troops from Shayetet 13 into the water, we lit the water with the xenon lights, aimed our weapons at them and asked them over the loudspeaker to put their hands up."
Eight terrorists, including three members of the ship's crew, were found alive. Zana: "They were half-floating, so we couldn't tell what they had on the lower halves of their bodies. We were afraid they had bombs that they would detonate when they got on board. So we told them to undress. We threw them a rope ladder and the troops kept their guns aimed at them. The moment they came on board, we handcuffed them. When I saw these terrorists, who were so strong, I thought about what would have happened if they had reached Israel's shores."
All the terrorists, who were in their twenties, were brought on board the Moledet in a slow process that lasted about four hours. They underwent preliminary interrogation, during which it was learned that 20 more terrorists aboard the vessel had drowned. The major question at this point was whether the terror cell had managed to get off the boat earlier, but that turned out not to be the case. The tension began to abate.
The troops now began to understand what they had accomplished. Halevi says he had trouble realizing he had been so lucky. It was only when the prime minister at the time, Shimon Peres, called him to tell him that the State of Israel was grateful to him that he understood that if he had made one wrong decision, the episode could have ended very differently.
Halevi brought his vessel to the Ashdod port with a broom lashed to the mast, the conventional sign of a "clean sweep" — that he had sunk the enemy ship. The Mivtah continued to the Haifa port. Everyone, from the lowest ranks to the highest, is suffused with pride. The piers in Ashdod and in Haifa are full of senior officers and soldiers cheering the vessel that had succeeded in accomplishing the incredible.
"After the operation, which was so successful, it could be said that the crew skipped a grade," says Yaron Tzohar. "The unit's pride grew stronger, and they learned many positive lessons."
From the interrogation of the terrorists, it was learned that they had undergone training in the best academies of the Persian Gulf and Egypt. One of them was Ahmed Shahada Odeh, Abu Jihad's senior representative, who had joined the voyage. "I had a lot of appreciation for those guys," says Capt. S. "I knew we mustn't underestimate them. For example, there was one guy who wouldn't talk no matter what. In the intelligence material about him, I read that he had gotten a 43 on a math test in school in 1980. When I asked him about it, it was like he turned to stone. He thought I knew every centimeter of his body, and realized that there was no sense in keeping silent. That's an excellent example of using accumulated intelligence wisely."
A historic turning point
Commander Danny Halevi and his crew received citations from the commander of the navy. Halevi went up the ranks to the rank of rear admiral, and his last position was that of head of the navy's Planning and Organization Department. Today he is 65, and leads the maritime department of Manofim, which harvests salt from the pools of the Dead Sea Works.
Yaron Tzohar was discharged from the navy with the rank of rear admiral. His last position was that of deputy commander of the naval base in Haifa. At 55, he is now the head of the operations administration at the Yokneam municipality.
"The command of a maritime vessel is the best command a person can experience," says Danny Halevi. "The decisions that a ship's commander makes at sea can be crucial. I was lucky that day. I don't want to think what could have happened if those rubber dinghies had made it out of the belly of the ship toward the Bat Yam beach. I doubt very much that we'd have been able to prevent the terrorists from carrying out their plans."
The sinking of the Ataviros was a historic turning point in the navy's preparedness for terror attacks. "We've invested a great deal of effort in making the State of Israel's maritime border impenetrable for terror attacks," says Rear Admiral Zana. "I'm glad to say that for many years, no infiltration by sea has succeeded."
Commander (res.) S.: "The last two attempts to perpetrate a terror attack by sea took place in the 1990s, and both failed. One was on the eve of Shavuot in 1990 off the coast of Nitzanim. The other was in 1993, when a boat from Lebanon filled with explosives was seized on its way to carry out an attack in Israel. Bear in mind that the enemy is just as tough today as they were then, and we mustn't be complacent even for a moment."
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