In a maritime melodrama that would make even a seasick squid blush, a Club Med yacht couple have reported a 'warning fire' from a Russian warship in the English Channel. The couple, who we shall call 'Boris and Natasha' for the sake of journalistic theatre, were apparently enjoying a spritzer and a spot of sunbathing when a grey behemoth bristling with antennae and ill intent decided to spoil their holiday. The warship, presumably piloted by someone with a chip on their shoulder and a grudge against deck shoes, allegedly fired a flare or something similarly theatrical as a 'warning'. Because nothing says 'diplomatic courtesy' like pyrotechnics in the Channel.
Let's parse this, shall we? The Russian Navy, masters of subtlety and charm, have apparently decided that the best way to assert their presence in our waters is to give wealthy holidaymakers a mild case of the vapours. This is the sort of behaviour you'd expect from a territorial swan, not a sovereign state with nuclear capabilities. But then again, the Russians have always had a flair for the dramatic. Remember when they parked a spy sub off the coast of Scotland? They're the villains who leave a calling card.
The British response, as per protocol, will involve a lot of stern letters and possibly a strongly worded tweet from the Foreign Office. Meanwhile, the couple will probably get a free upgrade to a suite with a better view of the Atlantic, and a lifetime supply of free cocktails to forget the whole thing. But let's not forget the bigger picture. This is the latest in a series of 'incidents' where Russian vessels have been caught doing things they shouldn't be doing in places they shouldn't be. It's like a game of international chicken, except the stakes are higher and the participants are armed to the teeth.
I can only imagine the conversation on the yacht: 'Daphne, is that a warship?' 'No, darling, it's just a large, grey, aggressive-looking cloud.' 'Daphne, it's firing something.' 'Probably just a seagull with a flare gun, darling.' It's the sort of absurdity that makes you wonder if we're all characters in a particularly grim satire penned by an AI with a grudge.
But mark my words, the real warning fire here is a metaphorical one: a flare shot across the bow of international law, a signal that the decorum of the sea is as dead as the dodo. And while the Club Med couple can now boast about their near-miss with a naval vessel, the rest of us should be asking: what exactly is Russia trying to warn us about? That they're here, they're bored, and they have really big guns? That's not news, that's a Tuesday.
In conclusion, hooray for the brave couple who lived to tell the tale and will undoubtedly sell it to a tabloid for a tidy sum. Hooray for the Royal Navy, who will probably have to send a destroyer to wag a finger at the Russians. And hooray for us, the pubic, who get to watch this farce from the comfort of our armchairs, safe in the knowledge that the only 'warning fire' we'll experience is from a disappointing curry. God save the Queen, and keep your flares pointed skyward, comrades.
