The concept of launching aircraft from ships first appeared two centuries ago. During the Napoleonic Wars, the British used the Royal Navy frigate “Pallas” to fly kites along the French coast, dropping anti-Napoleon leaflets into France from the sky.
In the mid-19th century, the Austrians planned to launch hot air balloons from the warship “Vulkan” to bomb Venice. Although this bold attempt failed due to a change in wind direction, the idea of a “balloon carrier” left a strong impression on the Americans. During the Peninsula Campaign of the American Civil War, the Union Army used coal barges to carry balloons for reconnaissance missions at sea.
A century ago, a German mail ship that traveled between Hamburg and New York planned to launch mail planes from the foredeck to expedite mail delivery. This concept, reported in the news, caused an uproar, with some Americans who recognized its military potential suspecting that Germany’s military was using postal operations as a cover to test a new method for attacking the United States. This inspired Washington Irving Chambers, an assistant to the Chief of the U.S. Navy Bureau of Equipment, to begin conducting experiments on launching aircraft from naval ships.
Throughout history, the development of aircraft carriers has been closely tied to civilian ships, with many examples of civilian ships being converted into carriers. For instance, the first aircraft carrier of the U.S. Navy, the “USS Langley,” was converted from a coal transport ship. During World War II, the Allies converted existing cargo ships into “escort carriers” to protect maritime supply lines from Axis submarines.
During the Falklands War in the 1980s, to compensate for the Royal Navy’s lack of carrier-based aircraft, the British modified four requisitioned cargo ships to carry helicopters and Harrier jets, providing air support to the fleet and landing forces. Among these ships, the ill-fated “Atlantic Conveyor” became the most well-known. This container ship was struck by an Exocet missile launched by an Argentine Navy Super étendard on May 25, 1982, sinking with over a dozen helicopters and substantial supplies.
Three days later, the “Cristo” docked at Richards Bay had almost completed its refitting. This did not indicate high efficiency on the part of Sernechevich’s crew or the dock repair workers; rather, the ship itself required minimal modifications.
As an aircraft carrier, the most important feature is the flight deck for aircraft operations. The foredeck of the “Cristo” was 350 feet long, spacious and flat enough to accommodate simultaneous takeoffs and landings of two Mi-17 helicopters. Built in an earlier era, the deck had no installed guide rails, and the only potential obstructions were the twist-lock sockets for securing containers.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
However, this was not a significant issue. Simply cutting off the protruding twist-lock sockets with a welding torch and smoothing down any tire-puncturing burrs would suffice. Unlike fixed-wing aircraft, helicopters do not require a runway for takeoff, so the space needed was minimal. Clearing enough space could be done in a few hours by four or five people, so Sernechevich decided to leave this task until they were at sea to avoid drawing attention in port.
The second issue, aside from the flight deck, was fuel. After researching, Keith found that the Mi-8MT had a fuel consumption rate of half a gallon per mile. The distance from the starting point to the destination was 150 miles, requiring each helicopter to make three round trips to transport all personnel and supplies to the presidential palace, consuming at least 900 gallons of fuel. Considering the additional consumption for circling the target, flying fully loaded, operating in mountainous areas, and potential emergency situations like abandoning the mission, he decided that the “Cristo” should carry 3,000 gallons of aviation kerosene.
On land, this amount of fuel would require an eight-ton tanker truck, but smuggling fuel onto a cargo ship was surprisingly simple. Modern ships are equipped with ballast tanks, which are filled with seawater when unloaded to maintain stability. These tanks essentially acted as built-in fuel storage compartments. Since the “Cristo” had been docked in port since undergoing repairs, some of its ballast tanks were unused, saving them the effort of cleaning them out.
Of course, delivering fuel to a guarded dock was out of the question, so the loading point was set in international waters. Sernechevich had the crew modify the ballast tank’s water pump, while Mark, through Du Preez’s connections, secured a refueling ship. Using a payment of 20,000 rand convinced the captain to deliver 3,000 gallons of aviation fuel to the rendezvous point.
With the necessary provisions for the helicopters in place, the next concern was living arrangements for the crew during their time at sea. Fortunately, the solution was straightforward. The “Cristo,” being a container ship, had interior space equivalent to half a standard football field, providing ample room for over a hundred people without feeling cramped.
As for living conditions, the ship was stocked with folding beds, military sleeping bags, camping equipment, and water purification systems to ensure an adequate supply of fresh water. Additionally, there was enough food on board to last everyone a month. Although squeezing more than a hundred people onto a freighter designed for a crew of fewer than twenty was far from “comfortable,” it was certainly more luxurious than stowing away in a container like sardines. For those aboard, it was a seaborne journey .