Lying in a sleeping bag on the floor of a small, dingy, shallow-hulled 25 metre supply vessel, as it is tossed unrelentingly by the Mediterranean, I open my eyes to see our team and our belongings rushing violently back and forth across the room.  After 3 days at sea, I somehow still have to laugh.  On deck, getting some air, I give a thumbs-up to the peaky looking Captain Lukman to check he is ok, at which he promptly vomits into his hands.  Our epic mission from Malta for Tripoli is only beginning, and the thought of arriving in a country on the brink of civil war is an attractive proposition.  Anything to get off the boat.

Our team of four; Tobin, Mark, Mirko and I, arrived in Malta on 27^th March with 1.5 tonnes of broadcast kit, our goal to set up live positions in Tripoli for GMS clients before any other service provider.  Janna and Sargon in London had secured permission to enter Libya, kit had been prepped and our travel to Malta organised.  Tobin had already spent several days scoping out travel from Malta, and when all flights halted upon our arrival, we turned to his sea options.  The 7 hour catamarans refused to take us and so the slower Maltese “Triva I” was our best and eventually, as the situation escalated in Libya, only option.  We stocked up on supplies, generators and fuel and after two days of false starts, we departed Valletta port.  What was sold as a daunting 30 hour journey, developed into a implacable 66 hour trip covering just 350 km.

Out on the Med, the waves grew and the contents of our boat took on an increasingly malevolent edge.  Chairs flew at us, crockery smashed and a television fell from the wall, narrowly missing Tobin’s head.  During one particularly cruel night, our engine failed 5 times and we drifted west for several hours.  Janna somehow remained calm when we rang with our coordinates and the possibility of mounting an international air and sea rescue. But which coast guard to call, and where to?  Could we ask the Libyans to tow us to Tripoli?  Mercifully, the engine was fixed.  We waited just outside Tripoli port for 12 hours and when the coastguards finally called us in, the anchor wouldn’t come up, so the crew simply sawed it off and on we went. 

Four weeks since we left London, and we are still the only broadcast service provider in Tripoli, a scoop that justifies the journey.  Our small and incredibly dedicated team is providing two live positions and multi-format playouts to an endless stream of AP clients, as well as a dedicated news path for press conferences and live shots.