Rescued captain praises heroism of crew, SEALs

Sitting in a sweltering, fetid lifeboat, Richard Phillips, pirate captive, heard shots ring out.

He hit the deck and stayed low.

"I didn't know what happened," Phillips told Matt Lauer in an exclusive "Today" show interview. "I had no idea. I didn't think it had anything to do with the military. I thought it was a disagreement among pirates."

Speaking as calmly as if describing a trip on the Staten Island Ferry, Richard Phillips, captain of the Maersk Alabama, talked about what it was like to have pirates board his ship.

Once the Somali pirates got within a mile of the 17,000-ton cargo ship, Phillips ordered it locked down.

When the pirates boarded, there was gunfire.

"I cannot say a lot, not say a little," Phillips said. "I am a merchant mariner, not a military person."

Phillips praised his crew.

"There were acts of heroism on the part of the crew," he said. "They got one of the pirates into some darkened space, stabbed him in the hand and overpowered him," Phillips said. "Chief Mate Shane Murphy was integral to them never getting control of the ship."

Control was a point Phillips wanted to drive home.

The pirates "never had control of the ship," he said. They controlled "me and a few crew members, finally me and one crew member due to their problems and other problems, but they never had control of the ship."

After about 12 hours, Phillips struck a deal. He would board a lifeboat, tell the pirates how to operate it and then exchange himself for the pirate captured by his crew.

But the pirates reneged on the deal and motored off with Phillips.

Phillips' wife, Andrea, who joined him for the interview, told Lauer that was a bad moment.

"My stomach bottomed out at that point," she said. "It was kind of hard to hear that. I just kept saying, 'OK, Richard is strong. I will be strong. We will get through this.' He must have did it for a reason. He wouldn't do something like this if he couldn't get out of it."

There was a lot to think about while waiting to be rescued, Phillips said.

"It was very hot," he said. "It was very, very hot on that lifeboat. You are soaked in sweat. You're dirty. When the sun came up, I sort of dreaded the sun because of the heat, and it would be up then for the next 12 to 13 hours. I looked forward to the sun going down. I am from Vermont. I like the cold weather."

The lifeboat was stocked with food and water, but Phillips didn't eat.

"I wasn't hungry because of the heat," he said.

As for sanitary facilities, "That is another topic," he told Lauer.

"It wasn't pleasant," he said. "We were quite familiar, in a small area. It wasn't the most comfortable. It wasn't the Queen Mary."

Things were bleak.

"I didn't think I would ever get out of that boat," he said. "Never."

On April 10, about 10 p.m. local time, Phillips made a break for it.

"I watched them all," he said. "The guy in the driving seat, I thought I could get by him. I was watching the guy urinating out of the hatch. I saw him put his gun down, the AK-47. He proceeded to urinate with both hands. That was the split-second decision. I just went."

Phillips said he pushed the pirate into the water.

"He was a little startled," said Phillips. "He let out a yelp. I learned later that Somalis don't like to be in the water at night."

At this point, Phillips had a choice. Grab the AK-47 and turn it on the pirates, or swim.

"I didn't know how to operate the AK-47," he said. "I did not expect to have access to a gun. I dove into the water. I tried to hold my breath as long as I can. I did that twice before turning around."

By now, he was about 50 feet from the lifeboat, but still a quarter- to a half-mile away from the big, gray Navy ship that would ultimately rescue him.

"They were still turning around to get their buddy," Phillips said. "Then they were coming at me."

The pirates quickly caught up to Phillips and dragged him into the lifeboat. After his escape attempt, the mood changed, Phillips said.

"The atmosphere and body language, things changed," he said.

Andrea Phillips, who was following the developments at home, became terrified.

"Just knowing the situation kind of scared me more," she said. "Knowing the situation with guns, I assumed he was tied. That was hard. It was hard for me to keep strong. I had two children. It was scary. I had to say, 'Wow, we are living this.' "

Phillips credited his muley nature for getting him through the ordeal.

"I am Irish," he said with a laugh. "I'm stubborn. Even they [pirates] called me a pain. Said I'm trouble. I said, 'Yes, I am.' I wasn't going to give in. I knew they weren't."

While all this was going on, Phillips said he had no idea he was the focus of worldwide media attention.

"I had no idea," he said to Lauer. "The world is not like America. It is different in each country. I had no idea. Once I got on the Navy ships, they tried to explain it to me. Even their words were surreal. It was surreal on the lifeboat, and it is surreal here. Here I am talking to you. That's surreal."

Finally, on April 12, Navy SEALs aboard the U.S.S. Bainbridge set up on the destroyer's fantail and fired shots into the dusk.

"I heard the shots," Phillips said. "I felt the fiberglass of the boat. I just wanted to get as low as I could. I knew where I was. I was only in two seats the whole time. I didn't want to be moving. I figured what they were doing is what they should do."

Though it probably took seconds, for Phillips, the SEALs' sharpshooting seemed much longer.

"Time was fractured for me," he said. "It felt like a very long time for me."

After the shots killed the pirates, there was complete silence.

Then, an American voice.

Phillips finally realized he was rescued.

When the shots first rang out, he thought the pirates had turned on each other. That's how tense things had become.

"It wasn't elation until I was on the boat away from the lifeboat," he said.

Once on the Bainbridge, Phillips called his wife.

"I think I said, 'I'm all right. I'm OK,' " he said.

Phillips praised his rescuers.

If any of the shots missed, he said, the pirates would have killed him.

"What they did was impossible," he said of the SEALs. "They did the impossible. They do it day in, day out. They are titans. They are superheroes."

Editor Howard Altman can be reached at (813) 259-7629.