Blimey. I’m not sure how time has slipped past so fast but, after a five week frenzy of Faslane blockading, crane climbing, arrests, solitary confinement, losing the ship, getting it back again, bearing witness, gigs, press conferences, political events, rallies and general sleep deprivation, the Trident: we don’t buy it tour has just come to an end.
The Arctic Sunrise set sail for Scandinavia a couple of hours ago, cheered on from the quayside by a smattering of exhausted Greenpeace folk and watched by the police boat that inevitably appears every time the ship moves.
It was a strange moment; I’d realised I was getting sucked into ship life when, about 10 days into the tour, I found myself shouting “Heave to the aft!” without any sense of irony. Waving the ship off this morning, I realised how badly I was going to miss the Sunrise and her crew. It’s hard not to fall in love with the intense whirlwind that is life onboard a Greenpeace ship, and I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with a home that has no portholes and an office that doesn’t rock from side to side.
It’s been a busy old tour – I can’t believe how much has happened in a short time. I phoned my mother the other night and she asked what I’d been up to. “Not much,” I said. “Oh, I interviewed Ken Livingstone yesterday. And I was arrested and held in solitary for three days last week. Yep, for blockading a nuclear base. Oh, and I learned to drive an inflatable boat. And Scottish Parliament passed a motion in support of our actions. Um, and there’s a concert onboard tomorrow with lots of my heroes playing...”
The tour ended really with the day of the vote - 24 hours of rallies, protests and blockades across the country (including rooftop protests in Edinburgh and blockades at Faslane). We were at Parliament Square, with dozens of other groups campaigning for peace. It was an impressive day; the most powerful part for me was the silent vigil at dusk. A couple of hundred people stood silently and looked up to Parliament, where MPs prepared to vote on whether to create a new incarnation of the most destructive weapon ever invented. The vigil was immediately followed by the ear piercing alert of an air raid siren, to remind MPs of the future they were choosing on behalf of humanity.
A short while later, I was standing next to a friend as he was threatened with arrest under the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act. Inside Parliament, MPs were voting to breach the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and to reintroduce the threat of nuclear war to the world. My friend had pedalled his bicycle around Parliament Square a few times in protest. Which is the serious organised crime?
There was a strange mood onboard the ship after the vote; part exhaustion, part sadness at saying so many goodbyes, part pride at what the campaign has achieved. Or maybe that was just me... Certainly, the crew’s reactions to the vote were mixed, with some people feeling despondent that we lost the vote (we didn’t expect the amendment to win, but we did dare to hope) and others delighted at the scale of the Labour rebellion.
While Blair – who once stood for parliament as a member of CND - has made the world a more dangerous place and signed the UK up to another 50 years of nuclear madness, this was the biggest Labour rebellion since Iraq and the story isn't over, by any means. We’ll hold the government to account over its promises about further parliamentary votes as the Trident plans progress. Faslane 365 will keep taking non-violent direct action at Faslane every day for months to come. And Block the Builders will keep the pressure on at Aldermaston, where the bombs are built...
Unfortunately, the frenzy of the past five weeks has meant that I haven’t had time to write about everything I’ve wanted to. Like the wonderful Faslane 365 folk, MSPs and others who came to support us outside the court in Scotland, with banners reading “You can’t sink a rainbow... And you can’t lock up a sunrise” (referring to the sinking of the Rainbow Warrior and the impounding of the Arctic Sunrise). And like Harry, a member of Pensioners Against Trident who rode his motorbike up to the ship one cold night when we were in Greenock, hung up a few banners and stayed as a guest for several days, writing poems, telling stories and singing songs about Trident.
Mostly, I’ve wanted to write more about the crew - wonderful characters of all ages from all over the world with all manner of stories to tell - who have made it an absolute privilege to work on the ship as part of this campaign. But I’ve run out of time, so I’ll have to stick with just saying a huge thank you to them for giving up sleep, their days off and, for a while, their freedom to make it all happen, and for keeping smiling while it was all happening. And, without wanting to get too Gwyneth on you, a huge thanks to everybody else who’s been involved – whether through volunteering, donations, writing to your MP, coming to the rally or visiting the boat. You’ve been grand.
