Ship Envy

Ever since my first experience at sea I have listened to mariners lament how the number of ships sailing under a U.S. flag has dwindled for decades. In a world where there are now over 100,000 merchant vessels the United States Merchant Marine accounts for only 1.4% of the total gross tonnage; a number that has only fallen year after year from a high of 36% in World War Two. Of course WWII was an exceptional time when our sealift capacity ensured the allied nations of Europe were fed, fueled and armed but for the wealthiest nation on earth to reside so low on the list is concerning for seafaring Americans such as myself.

What troubles me more than the low number of American owned, operated, crewed and sometimes constructed ships is the average fleet age of the few remaining deep sea vessels. While American shipyards are busy pumping out tugs and barges the number of new build activity for long haul ocean transport is anaemic. Not counting the "grey hulls" or ships funded specifically for defense purposes the U.S. merchant fleet is antiquated and will eventually become obsolete as fleet age is a major factor in choosing a shipping line to haul one's cargo around the world.

Like farming and banking nearly all american ships in foreign trade are in one way or another subsidized by the American tax payer. The only reason I have a job sailing overseas is because congress has authorized funding through 2015 for the Maritime Security Program, a subsidy which encourages the re-flagging of foreign built ships into US registry. By offsetting the higher operating costs for US flagged vessels it ensures sufficient sealift capacity in time of war or national crisis. Since these ships are foreign built they are ineligible for Jones Act or domestic trade and therefore are only engaged in foreign commerce, hence why my job.

These thoughts were running through my mind the other week when I leveraged my rating as Chief Mate to take a quick tour of a Norwegian flagged vessel moored astern of us. Since only in America are there "Chief Mates" I introduced myself to the Filipino security watch as the "Chief Officer" of the American ship loading cargo at the next berth and inquired if his Chief Officer wasn't too busy to allow me onboard.

"Yes, he's on the bridge and would be happy to show you around" the crewman replied in a thick Tagalog accent as another of the ABs on watch came down from the upper holds to escort me to the elevator. On the bridge? That's about as far from the cargo operation as he could be I thought as we rode the elevator to the upper most deck.

The size of the ship was impressive from the dock and standing on top of this sky scraper was no different. The AB led me to the bridge, which he would not enter in working clothes and boots where the Captain, First Assistant, Radio Operator and Chief Officer were standing around wearing pressed salt and pepper uniforms. They greeted me with some curiosity unaccustomed to having visitors from neighboring ships. I was immediately curious why three of the top four officers were all on the bridge. I've never even seen the First Assistant Engineer on the bridge of a ship much less wearing a pressed uniform. "Don't you belong down in the hole?" I wanted to ask as we made small talk and I explained the trade route and number of crew on board my ship.

"Only 20 crew?" the Chief Officer asked. "We have 27 plus two British deck cadets." Oh that must be nice I thought as it explained why the management officers were all bullshitting on the bridge in port during cargo operations. The Chief Officer then explained that the Radio Officer, another rating now absent from the crew lists of American ships (Ever since GMDSS was implemented), was running some sort of IT test on their internet system to check for cyber terrorism weaknesses (Every ship in their fleet has internet), but he had a few minutes and could show me around.

I thanked the Captain for his time and made my way down the ladder well to the accommodation deck. The door opened into an atrium with a wide stair case that descended to the accommodations. I was blown away by the grandeur of such a space on a ship that really served no utilitarian purpose besides impressing visitors. At the bottom of the stairs were a set of glass book cases crammed with literature. To the left of the atrium was a small lounge for port officials and other important persons visiting the captain. A model of a Viking longboat crafted out of wood served as a centerpiece in the cozy room.

We walked past the ship's offices, one of several places including the bridge where the Chief Officer could remotely operate the ventilation and ballasting systems, and into the officers mess. The entire crew could have eaten in the room but the unlicensed had their own mess abaft the galley and closer to their own living quarters. A well appointed gym was across the hall complete with a glass faced squash / basketball court. All that was missing were the saunas commonplace on Swedish flagged ships.

If an after duty game of squash wasn't enough to wear you out than retiring to one of two lounges was always an option. The crew lounge was fitted with an entertainment and Karaoke system as well as a full drum kit, guitar, bass and amplifiers. Music is as culturally necessary for Filipino seafarers as white rice and fish at breakfast. The officers lounge was further forward and massive. Art work, a dart board, photographs of numerous barbecues onboard and plush settees lined the walls while a full bar and stools filled one corner. The spotless carpet professed that it was an off duty clean clothes only establishment and beer coasters sporting Beck's, Fosters and Heineken abounded. It was evident that Norwegians could not only be trusted to operate a multi million dollar ship but they could also be trusted to have a pop or two afterwards.

Moving further aft down the recently waxed deck, besides the cleanliness and modern fixtures of the interior, I was most impressed by pyramid sky lights placed in the overhead at each intersection of the passageway allowing natural light to fill the ship. It hearkened back to deck prisms and the master's cabin sky light on sailing ships. I peeked into the Chief Officer's stateroom at what looked like a showroom at Ikea. "The carpenter put in a new carpet this trip. Last trip he tiled all the officer's heads." I don't think an American ship has employed a carpenter since the 1970s.

Leaving the ship I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Not for the posh accommodations or large crew but for the overall impression the vessel and her crew gave off. They were employed by a powerhouse in the shipping world and everyone onboard and in the port knew it. The vessel was built for cargo and a lot of it but making an impression on visitors and the crew as comfortable as possible was also calculated in; sentiments that today seem lost in the Walmart mentality of most shipping companies.

Of course it would be hard to use this vessel as a comparison for American ships. First of all she was definitely not built in Norway. Doing so would be as cost prohibitive as building one in say, the United States. She was of South Korean ancestry and therefore much more affordable and timely in her construction. An American vessel, unless subsidized by MSP must be built in the United States if she is to carry cargo from one domestic port to another or in other words be Jones Act compliant. As it stands now without being constructed in the U.S. a ship couldn't carry a single TEU from Newark to Portland Maine legally.

Also, her crew was only partially Norwegian. The unlicensed, and quite possibly junior officers were all selected by a Filipino crewing agency from thousands of qualified mariners educated in Filipino maritime academies. American vessels on the other hand are almost always crewed by American citizens. (Unless you're working in the South Pacific fisheries where only the "Paper" captain must be American, an egregious loophole for U.S. registered fishing boats with Asian crews).

American crews are traditionally viewed by shipping companies as expensive not just on account of the higher standard of living in the U.S. but our litigious nature. While it's true we earn a higher wage than the majority of seafarers from other nations the reason American mariners may be so sue happy could be that the maintenance and cure offered by the Jones Act when injured was pegged in the early 20th centure at seven dollars a day. That won't even get you an aspirin in hospitals today.

Furthermore an entire Norwegian vessel, though flying a red and white flag, can be entirely manned by non citizens benefiting the company with reduced crewing costs making the Norwegian flag comparable to any other "Flag of Convenience." In the U.S. this too is prohibited by the Jones Act, yet another reason almost all shipping companies based in the United States flag their fleets in Liberia, Monrovia, the Marshal Islands or Panama.

While the shipping industry remains to be big business in the United States the companies do not support American shipbuilders and seamen as it once did. The industry has been outsourced to foreign fleets for the very same reasons we no longer make television sets and automobiles like we once did. While large shipping companies reap the rewards of cheaper labor, looser regulations and lower construction and maintenance costs I fear that we may loose the capability to maintain a true ready reserve capability as a maritime nation.

I'm no war hawk but with the reduced size of not only our merchant fleet but also our navy we may look big in GDP but our presence on the high seas may be relegated to the lowest bidder. Loosing the work force to build, maintain and operate deep sea tonnage will prevent the United States from regaining the autonomy we once held as a global economic force. The original purpose of the continental navy was not to project military might but to protect the merchant vessels that supplied the expanding colonies with everything they could not grow or produce on their own.

I do not mention these thing for want of alcohol onboard ship or dinning ware emblazoned with the stack insignia or the white glove role some officers on foreign ships with multiethnic crews enjoy. I mention it because I believe that when you loose something as integral to our maritime economy and heritage as a self sustaining commercial merchant marine free of government backed construction loans, subsidized operations and cargo preference laws the chances of recovering such a fleet are slim to none.

And I don't think the answer lies in the good intentions of investors dedicated to the furtherance of an American Merchant Marine despite the economic forces weighing against such an effort. The solution lies in the halls of congress and reworking the antiquated legislation that today protects the few remaining jobs for american seamen but will ultimately squash the ability to find backing for new maritime ventures. If there was ever a time to change these laws allowing for business plans that will actually work to grow the American flag it is now.

For more information on the U.S. merchant and naval fleets through history visit Tim Colton's website http://www.shipbuildinghistory.com. His daily blog http://www.coltoncompany.com/ includes the latest in ship building and operational news.

The Silence of Snow

The White Mountains were silent yesterday. The fifth storm to hit New England since returning from sea had coated every tree with a foot and a half of new snow. Stopping amongst the evergreens and young softwoods branches mounded with beautiful dry snow muffled every scrape and thud a snowboard makes in the back country. A holler from a skier looking for his partner further down the stream bed was hardly audible in the noise dampening forest.

These were perfect conditions for being out of bounds; ample snow to cover every rock face and fallen tree trunk along the trail and provide sufficient control to carve through the trees. A few skiers had all ready been down the stream we were following so it wouldn't be so easy to get lost on the back side of the mountain. I had been down this glade a few weeks before with a brother so I had a good idea where speed was needed to avoid unstrapping and walking to the top of the next rise and I knew where to slow down and duck in the tighter areas to avoid wayward tree branches.

My helmet and goggles were all ready scratched and my board had received a few gouges when there was less snow so the paranoia associated with ruining perfectly good equipment had subsided. A friend also on vacation from sea was following close behind so if one of us broke something we'd probably be able to extricate ourselves and not have to pay for our own evacuation (Rescue is not gratis when you're out of bounds).

After 78 days at sea just standing in the woods on the side of a mountain after a proper blizzard was almost as much of a thrill as snowboarding in the best conditions of the year. The sensation of freedom dry land and free time provides a sailor kept me pumped throughout the day as we made run after run on my favorite mountain in New England.

It's days like this that provide my greatest justification for spending at least half of my life away from the world and they become an important source of energy and confidence when I'm exhausted and fed up with life at work. My last hitch was no exception.

All in all it was a great trip. We had one of the best crews I have ever worked with. The steward department put out some of the most edible food I've had at work or at home. The Boatswain managed the deck gang as all Boatswains should; handling beefs before the mast whenever he could and giving the guys breaks when they needed them while completing my ceaseless to do lists. The cargo was delivered in the condition in which it was loaded and there were no major accidents or injuries. Despite all of our small victories, for one reason or another, this last trip had a draining effect on my energy level and interest in remaining at sea indefinitely for the rest of my life.

Ask anyone who sailed in the U.S. Merchant Marine prior to the grounding of the Exxon Valdez and they will tell you sailing isn't anything like it used to be. No more port time, no more fun time, more liability, more paperwork, more headaches. After working in the industry myself for the last seven years even I can see that change isn't relegated to the 1990s. The industry continues to change and the changes are coming fast and none of it seems to be improving my working conditions, benefits or professional liability.

2010 was a very interesting year for the merchant marine. There are a hundred topics I'd just love to give my opinion on ranging from the Oil Spills in the Gulf of Mexico to Piracy to shifting environmental regulations but I'll just stick to what really gets me pacing back and forth on the bridge wings.

The "Global Recession" has made the business of shipping even more competitive than it all ready was and every where I look companies are reducing costs. After two years of scrapping old tonnage and laying up new ships cargo volumes are slowly picking up but there is still an oversupply of vessels. Cost cutting measures such as slow steaming, voyage routing guidance focused on fuel efficiency more so than weather avoidance and enhanced fuel / lube oil consumption monitoring are being introduced at my company. The senior officers in my fleet are seeing an increase in oversight from the office via satellite based technologies that once upon a time would have been unimaginable to the skipper of any freighter.

For managing the condominium association in which I reside, my finances and socializing I adore having the internet aboard ship but being out of sight of land no longer provides the cloak of anonymity a ship at sea once received. Imagine an 18th century whaling ship. A Captain was employed, usually as a partial owner in the venture and fitted out with crew, stores and provisions to last months at sea. The vessel much like a warship of the time was meant to be self sufficient for years save for fire wood and water. The ship would sail from Nantucket and disappear around Cape Horn and not reappear in New England for one or two years.

The success of the entire voyage was entrusted to the Captain. He would hunt down whales filling the holds with blubber oil and not return to Nantucket until the ship was full and down providing a large enough profit to the owners and himself to justify his livelihood. Save for the occasional stop at a whaling station or encounter with another ship when letters, news and, among the literate, books could be traded the ship was completely out of touch with the rest of the world. Even when disaster struck not a soul would know until survivors were rescued or hundreds of years later an anchor is discovered on the top of Frigate Shoals as it was this week.

To compare the experience of a merchant sailor two or one or even a half century ago to seafaring today provides such a contrast that it's hard to believe anyone can still be romantic about the life of a 21st century mariner including myself. On a personal level the escape once afforded to the sailor who wanted to leave a troubled history over the fantail is no more. Running from the law, the IRS, family problems, the ills of society or simply the drudgery of a nine to five just isn't possible.

Seafarers are subject to thorough background checks at a minimum every 5 years. Any conviction besides a "Minor offense" is grounds for even more scrutiny requiring written statements and waivers. Driving records, criminal records, and now even your health records can prohibit the issuance of a merchant mariner's credentials. We are subject to enhanced physical screenings where conditions such as asthma, kidney stones, recurrent back pain, arthritis or restless legs require medical review by the Coast Guard and a waiver to work. Once upon a time American mariners received free health care thanks to the founding fathers knowledge that the fledgling nation required able bodied and fit sailors to keep commerce flowing and cannons thundering but today the health care provided by the major unlicensed union is a joke (Just ask my brother). Just before Reagan closed the USPHS hospital system, the first uniformed service in the United States, I was born at no cost because my mother held an MMD.

Today a sailor who never sets foot on U.S. soil but simply sails on a U.S. ship must pay the same tax as a citizen ashore on a wage that has stagnated in most industry sectors over the last quarter century. Unlike many European nations which historically have only taxed a portion of their mariner's wages the United States treats sailors no different than any one else, despite the best intentions of Martin Kapp.

With access to news, email and calling cards crews are now as up to date on global events and family happenings as anyone else. While this is usually good for morale it is now easier for the crew to become focused on things occurring at home or in the world providing more distraction for the crew, something Captains not long ago never contended with.

On an operational level shipping as mentioned before is under more scrutiny than ever before. Messages from the home office once relegated to packets of mail or the morse code of a signal station moved further offshore with the advent of radio stations. While satellites brought us cheap phone cards and eventually the Internet they have also introduced telephones in the Captain's and Chief Engineers office. 24 hours a day the Captain is accessible through phone and email. Any vessel can be tracked by any person on line through AMVER weather reports or AIS when in range of a participating port. Long Range Identification Tracking through SAT-C ensuring port states know which vessels are headed their way is light years apart from the observatory on Munjoy Hill that once hoisted the house flag of ships standing off Cape Elizabeth for a pilot to prepare the agents and merchants on the dock for a cargo's imminent arrival.

Even when the Master of my ship determines his route across an ocean the waypoints are reviewed by a routing agency who more often than not disagree and recommend a route through rougher seas in search of more favorable winds. In their eyes a reduction in fuel oil consumption outweighs a better ride and safer cargoes because in the short term the company saves money justifying their service. Who cares if it's too rough out to swing from a boatswains chair chipping rust or change gear oil on the bow? Who cares if we increase our lashing checks to every day because we're rolling ten degrees for days on end if it means a quartering wind to push us?

The science of saving money is becoming so precise that vessels are now being fitted with monitoring equipment to track fuel and lube oil consumption. While no one dares run an oily water separator because they are prone to malfunction and extremely burdensome in their testing, inspection and maintenance requirements (The operation of the OWS is also satellite tracked), the company will pay millions for slop removal in port.

Port time is also under more scrutiny and it seems that the trend is to spend no more time in port than is required for cargo. That would be fine if it meant that cargo was all my crew needed to focus on but as it turns out the only time for receiving stores, provisions, spares, lube oil, fuel oil, contractors, inspectors, regulatory agencies, company representatives, audits and on-signing crew is when the vessel herself is in port means which means that our STCW "Minimum" manned vessel is taxed to the limit. Combine this with the impending increase in STCW required rest hours and you can see how unrealistic adhering to each and every regulation becomes. Can you see me pacing now?

Thoughts like these and many more are why the mountain silence punctuated only by the sound of my snowboard is something I cherish so much. I really feel that in our quest for a safer, more efficient and secure world we humans have given up much in the way of personal liberty. When you get back a little piece of your life whether on a mountain or at a concert or in your home with family it must be held on to. Otherwise we wouldn't have any reason to climb back up that gangway.

Thankyou New York Times

An article in today's New York Times had done a service to the merchant mariners of the Oil & Gas industry who survived the Deepwater Horizon explosion in the Gulf of Mexico on April 2oth, 2010. I have several friends who work for the affected drilling company and know that this event, while not affecting any of them directly, has surely given cause for their families to contemplate the inherent risks of seafaring and the exploitation of natural resources. However unfortunate the ensuing spill is to the ecosystems and economies in the Gulf of Mexico the loss of eleven men who were doing their work in a world dependent on fossil fuel should not be eclipsed.

As more casual information comes to light, something that has been noticeably slow from BP and Transocean, we can only expect enhanced safeguards are developed to detect and prevent future catastrophic blowouts. Personally I hope that the risks rig workers, coal miners, mariners and their families live with day in and day out are remembered by those whose lives are far removed from the discovery, recovery and refinement of fossil fuels.

While it is easy to lay blame and shame on the oil companies and their employees it is our own use of these abundant and relatively affordable sources of energy that necessitate their existence and fund their profits. Until government and communities are willing to adapt to a world without oil, something we've been unable to do since the first whales lit the streets of Boston, we will continue to pay a heavy toll in lives and ecosystems altered.

Casualty Analysis

It is another beautiful morning in the Atlantic. I can't get over how pleasant the open horizon looks after spending four months channel bound in between Malaysia and Indonesia. The perpetual movement of water down the hull and the lonely expanses of ocean rarely occupied by any vessel besides our own has made for two weeks of low key watches.

The clouds have been particularly spectacular passing through some unsettled weather before entering the Bermuda high. Rainbows, columns of localized rain and towering cumulonimbus have made for great sunrises and sunsets. Yesterday I steered for a pair of humpback whales. Keeping my distance I spent an hour watching them breach and curiously stick only their right fins out of the water to slap them onto the surface over and over again.

I received a preliminary ice bulletin on the Sat-C from the International Ice Patrol today which included a reminder that the 98th anniversary of the RMS Titanic is nearing. This and the more recent grounding of a collier on the Great Barrier Reef got me thinking about how mariners learn about and learn from misfortune at sea.

One of the required courses during my senior year of college was called Casualty Analysis. It consisted of reading National Transportation Safety Board case studies of classic marine disasters. Each episode involved a catastrophic loss of life, cargo, vessels or damage to the environment. Every week for a semester a different collision, grounding or fire was discussed by the class and it was expected that our opinions were to mirror the ageless conclusions of admiralty lawyers as written in the text book.

The class served it's purpose to illustrate why the event's happened and how we could avoid falling into the same traps but the conclusions always felt too black and white and didn't deal with the human factor sufficiently. One time I made the mistake of challenging the consensus and attempted to articulate my own causal factors in a case where a coast guard vessel collided with a tanker in Tampa Bay. This was not a good idea and the instructor informed me that the courts conclusion was the only good explanation as to why the error chain went unbroken.

The other aspect of the class I found disconcerting was the tone of the NTSB's accident investigations. Much like the Coast Guard's marine safety bulletins they reeked of a corner office in Washington where some clerk handled road, rail, aviation and marine accidents as one in the same. The Coast Guard's blend of military and law enforcement interpretation of a bad day in the Merchant Marine has much the same affect on incident reports.

The Australians on the other hand seem to have a master mariner working at their Transport Safety Bureau. The most recent marine casualty in the news being of course the Shen Neng 1 which destroyed a 3 km stretch of coral reef and likely much more due to the resulting fuel spill. The preliminary investigative report reads as if it was written while in the wheelhouse of the ill fated ship rather than a formulated government inquiry.

The investigative team must have had a background in commercial shipping and relayed the events so clearly it read like a journal. Not only that but this preliminary report was issued mere days after the incident rather than months after the fact when the full investigation was in which helps quiet misinformation in the media.

The U.K. does a similar service to marine incidents by publishing a quarterly magazine by the Marine Accident Investigation Branch full of glossy photos and recommended practices to avoid accidents at sea. I would really like to see the U.S. Coast Guard hire a few retired skippers and Chief Engineers to do the same for our marine industry. Right now the Coast Guard's one page bulletins, in house publication Proceedings and Professional Mariner's unprofessional mariner section are about the only printed venues for casualty analysis in the States.

Anyone who enjoys reading about marine accidents knows that there is always more than one contributing factor. Just look at the contemporary findings for the circumstances surrounding the Titanic (Steering compasses not being aligned, communication issues, binocular cabinets being locked).

Marine incidents need to be looked at deeper than which party is at fault for settling insurance and salvage claims. Real people were very tired on the Shen Nang 1 and arresting the Chief Mate and Captain might make the masses happy in Queensland but it's not going to prevent future accidents when cargo officers on undermanned ships end up working another 37 hour day.

The legacy of NIMBY

Ranting isn't the best form of constructive dialogue between two opposing view points but the wording used in an Op-Ed piece in the Cape Cod Times describing the disastrous results of going ahead with the Cape Wind project spurred me to write this retort. Visit Casco Bay Boaters to read the editorial or the Cap Cod Times and read on to hear my rant...

I can only assume Mr. Beaty would agree that the socially inhumane legacies of offshore wind farms already foisted on the poor children and grandchildren of Spain, the U.K., Belgium, Denmark, Finland, and Holland have forever ruined the maritime heritage of the English Channel, North and Baltic Seas.

I would disagree. I have safely navigated these waters and wondered time and time again why the U.S. is so slow to pick up on what European, Mediterranean and Asian nations have already figured out. We will pay a pretty penny for foreign oil and gas but thanks to the guardians of real estate value and preposterous ideals regarding nautical legacy we will be left with no wind sites of our own.

What nautical heritage will our grandchildren speak of when diesel is too costly to fish and merchant mariners such as myself are left without the boom of constructing and maintaining these massive wind sites? What will your view be worth when your utility bills keep on going up? We'll I guess then we will just have to be thankful that the Canadians put up a few offshore wind farms of their own to offset America's dependence on Iraqi crude oil.

I'll admit that I'm generalizing by saying that NIMBY is a great acronym for those who have waterfront properties and sailing yachts. But the last thing I want my grandchildren to remember is that my generation robbed them of the chance to transition into a post peak oil era of renewable energy in their own back yards. That is a nautical legacy I could live without.

Accident Packages

This morning during a routine fire and boat drill of one the crew took an ugly digger while stepping out of the emergency gear locker. The fall splayed him painfully out on the deck and cut a centimeter long gash on his shin. The accident required minor first aid; some irrigating, disinfecting, butterfly suturing and a sterile dressing. That was the easy part.

What was to follow as required by the International Safety Management code was a full accident report plus post accident drug and alcohol testing. A full investigation replete with witness statements, photographs and measurements of the offending threshold had to be gathered for submittal to the home office along with the results of a breathalyzer and two vials of urine for shipment to Quest Diagnostics. All over a little gash on a sailors shin!

It wasn't always like this, was it? How could have Magellan found Tiera Del Fuego if every time he disemboweled a mutinous crewmember his entire fleet had to sign a statement stating whether they had any personal knowledge of the alleged accident? How could Nelson have fought at Trafalgar or John Paul Jones harass the British if they had to fill out a ream of paper every time blood was spilt?

No, I think this is a recent phenomenon. It reminds me of when I had to sign the DOI on a tank vessel, initialing each line every time I relieved a cargo watch restating that I had took all the precautions I could to not make a mess of the environment and that I was solely liable and fineable. Or the time when one operations manager wanted a 2692
serious marine incident form filled out for any injury including a cut finger to which the Coast Guard Marine Safety Office replied they had better things to do.

I love covering my ass just as much as the next paranoid sailor but covering the company's ass is a real headache. I can understand their caution though. If I was the president of human resources for this company and had seen as many law suits come across my desk as I know he has than I'd probably want pictures of the bed where one Steward's
Assistant sprained her back tucking a hospital corner one trip last year and ended up being not fit for duty, a mariner's worst nightmare.

Nonetheless the process for a medical incident beyond what an ibuprofen can take care of is incredible. The entire crew actually has to attest on paper whether they have any knowledge of the accident. If you do, god forbid, than you must fill out a lengthy witness statement in case you end up having to testify that Joe Sailor actually wasn't wearing safety glasses when he put his eye out with a grape fruit seed.

Worse than having to make a statement is having to report an injury that results in lost time. If an accident causes any crew member to not be able to return to work for a single day than the entire ship's crew looses their daily safety incentive bonus for ninety days. Not only does it affect the crew onboard the ship but also the returning relief crew who take it very personally.

Indeed litigious sailors and their lawyers have made the American Merchant Marine a much more paranoid and paperwork ridden industry than it had to be, and is the main reason why foreign companies are so reluctant to hire lawsuit happy Americans. But somewhere amidst all those ISM manuals there is some good that comes from that accident packet besides making sure the company doesn't loose their shirt over a 12 inch high hatch coaming on one of their managed vessels.

Every quarter the pencil pushers get together and analyze each accident, incident and near miss reported by the fleet. The result is a lengthy report about the types, causes and recommendations concerning each accident. Not that anyone besides a few interested crew read this report but if one is curious than you can quickly see what the leading causes of accidents in your particular organization are. Also the safety incentive, though so easily repealed, is a good tool in making the crew aware of their obligation to perform jobs safely and think about the hazards involved in their daily routines.

Unfortunately an organization's answer to injuries is to create more policy. Checklists, hazard analysis and permits abound. Sometimes money is put into new or better equipment or repairs of safety critical devices but I suppose as long as we keep getting hit in the head with monkey's fists they'll have no choice but to make us wear another piece of Personal Protective Equipment.

Another twist to this little incident is that the crew member who took the tumble was one of our plus size sailors. Anyone can trip and fall but the physical limitations caused by obesity are a disability greatly increasing the potential for injuries and accidents. This also increases the liability of the company with more potential for medical evacuations, hospitalizations and lawsuits.  The company trusts the contracted union to provide qualified mariners who are FFD or Fit For Duty but as is so often the case, people who are obviously very overweight are still being employed regularly thanks to oblivious doctors.

Many private companies and some union contracted ones, i.e. tanker operators, already have their own physical standards that preclude individuals like this from working on their ships. Now it will be up to the Coast Guard to enforce medical standards that will hopefully prevent doctors ashore from certifying people who are obviously limited by their body size in being fit for duty at sea on ships like mine.

Rule number nine

I'm not sure what it is about ships but small boats love to get close to us when were in a channel and have no room to avoid them. This was the case for each port we called at on the U.S. East Coast.

In Baltimore after undocking and heading out into the 150 mile long Chesapeake Bay a ketch decided that we had ample room to maneuver under the Francis Scott Key bridge. Instead of moving out of the channel the skipper kept his position in the "Narrow Channel" (More on that later) which we were restricted to navigating within. Only at the last minute did the sailing vessel move to the red side of the channel giving us enough water to line up with the center line of the bridge.

What the skipper failed to realize was that the perspective from the bridge of a 600 foot ship lining up to pass between the steel supports of a frail road bridge are quite narrow compared to the view from his open cockpit. A misunderstanding that almost drove us out of the channel to avoid spoiling his afternoon sail; a subset of mariner's I must secretively claim allegiance to when working on the big ships due to the frequency of near misses like this.

On the way into Charleston South Carolina a parade of sport fishers were getting a jump on the day heading out of the breakwater in the dark and in force. As we gingerly made our turn from the Fort Sumter range onto Mount Pleasant range one daring idiot felt he had to cross the channel so close ahead of us at the very last moment that he disappeared under the bow. Seeing how the bridge on my vessel is set only 40 meters abaft the bow its evident how close to our bulbous he came. If only one of our anchors would have let go...

The moment when you, the pilot and the captain loose sight of a speeding small craft can be a tense one. The horn was already sounding five short blasts signaling that we were in doubt as to his intentions, specifically why the heck he wanted to play chicken with 20,000 tons of high tensile steel. Chances are they never even heard the danger signal
from our very convincing horn above the roar of their XM radio and the twin 250 mercury's purring on the transom; one near miss for the power boaters.

The next example of poor seamanship and situational unawareness occurred as we backed off our berth in down town Charleston after a quick six hours of cargo operations. As a tug pulled the stern laterally off the dock and the bow thruster pushed with all its 2000 horses we encountered another WAFI much like the one in Baltimore. WAFI by the way stand for Wind Assisted Foolish Incompetent or any other derogatory words you can abbreviate with the letters F & I.

He was demonstrating his poor judgment in crew choice by leaving the helm to his inexperienced buddy who was zigzagging down wind while the slightly more experienced skipper chased the errant jib sheet finally
taking the slack out and putting on even more speed into our path.

When the captain and pilot lost sight of the forty foot sailboat dead astern they began calling him on the VHF and asking the mate on the stern for position updates fearing that we might chum him up in our slow astern bell. Needing all the room we could get to safely back down to the channel and then maneuver into it having a sail boat jibing back and forth close astern was unsettling. When the skipper finally responded on the VHF the pilot gave him a good tongue lashing that must have smarted with all the other weekend warriors listening in and told him to stay close to the docks leaving the ship ample room. A second near miss for the sail boaters.

The next day, down in the swamps of Georgia, we met a dozen antiquated commercial shrimp boats coming out of Saint Simons sound. We utilized the searchlight to express our doubt and dismay when one boat crossed
the channel close ahead and when another wouldn't give us enough room to make our initial turn past the hundred foot tall lighthouse just inside the jetties.

After the first near ninety degree turn onto Jekyll Island reach we passed an outbound bulk ship and thought we had cleared the majority of the stubborn fish farmers. Unfortunately a few minutes later the pilot spotted the outline of one more boat dead in the water and just inside the channel at the next bend we had to turn at. The lack of crew or lights on the boat was disconcerting, perhaps his engine had failed?

The captain had the halogen search light trained on the wheelhouse as the pilot began futilely hailing him on the radio. Once we had slowed the engine the pilot had me start sounding the danger signal and began contemplating how much damage would be done to the hull if we had to exit the channel and pile the ship up in water far too shallow for our 28 foot draft.

Instead of risking grounding, flooding and a potential oil spill blackening the bird reserve right next to us the pilot told the Captain he thought he could make the turn splitting the increasingly narrow space in between the shrimper and the blinking red buoy marking the starboard hand side of the 400 foot wide channel. This was a calculated risk for sure but with the unresponsive boat not moving it left us with little choice between smashing him to bits or shutting the port down until the grounded PCTC could be floated, inspected and repaired.

Just as I was switching from the autopilot, which up until this point had been engaged as is normal practice for pilots experienced in its use, to hand steering for the precarious turn the fishing boat came alive sputtering in a circle to head out of the channel. He had chosen wisely to get away from us and into the open water to the left but just as we thought he was clear of our turn to starboard he put on hard rudder and swung back into the channel right across our path! Whether he was completely disoriented, under the influence of narcotics or still asleep remains undetermined but this last moment maneuver reeked of a death wish and I'm sure everyone on the bridge was confident that we were about to buy a splintered shrimp boat.

After his outriggers had disappeared under the bow somehow he miraculously emerged on our starboard side hightailing it for the opposite side of the buoy and towards water shallow enough to ground out even a fishing boat. We had enough time while making the course change to train the search light on his transom to read his name. An incident report would be needed if we still grounded now that we were so close to the inside of the channel and ledge where another deep draft ship had grounded a year before. Luckily with a still ebbing tide we missed the bank and assumed the fish farmer had safely come out of his suicidal turn to net shrimp for another day.

The International Collision Regulations that govern vessels to prevent collision provide the same guidance for all three of these situations. In open water, unencumbered by our deep draft, we would have been obliged to give way to the sail boat and the fishing boat if he had been engaged in fishing. But there are several exceptions to this rule and had they been known by the operators of these three vessels than they may have paid more heed to our presence.

Rule number nine, which applies both in the United States and overseas grants a ship which can only safely navigate within a narrow channel the privilege of being unimpeded by vessels less than 20 meters in length and sailing vessels. In the case of the fishing vessel had we collided and the case was brought to court any defense that he had been fishing and there fore exempt of wrongdoing would have been futile. Rule number nine also applies to vessels engaged in fishing which must not impede any vessel operating in a narrow channel regardless of their size. In other words fishermen cannot fish in the middle of the road.

Having a working knowledge of the collision rules seems like a no-brainer but so many recreational and even commercial fishermen assume that they either have the right of way or are so small they can't possibly pose any issues to that ship coming down the channel. While I realize that the perspective from the console of a Boston Whaler is very different from the bridge of a ship but it still doesn't mean it's a good idea to play chicken with our bulbous bows. We might just get nervous and try and cover our asses by doing something like changing course if we feel collision is unavoidable at the last moment. In other words doubtful maneuvers with unpredictable and indistinct outcomes should always be avoided.

On our way out of Brunswick we saw the fishing boat which so narrowly missed us in the morning. I could tell we all felt a tinge of schadenfreude seeing how this errant fishing boat had ended up in the exact situation we all thought our ship and careers were going to end up in. Hard aground.

Tech Traps

Whenever I find myself in a teaching role, such as with a cadet at sea
or on a schooner full of students interested in learning navigation I
usually start the lectures off by recapping the 4 greatest advancements
in marine navigation according to myself. 

First and most importantly I discuss the marine chronometer and time
zones. A clock robust and accurate enough to be taken to sea and keep
track of time is something we easily take for granted but it was not
always so. This piece of navigational equipment is necessary to
determine where any celestial body should be at any given moment of the
day. Whether it was a J. Harrison original of yesterday or the oft tax
deducted Rolex of today, the marine chronometer and the ability to
determine longitude is a pillar of navigation.

No longer having to make an educated guess about how far one had
traversed an ocean in an easterly or westerly direction the second
advancement allowed navigators to make landfall in the middle of the
night without having to swing a lead line or wait for a cannon's echo
off some fog shrouded headland. Marine Radar provides a reflective
picture of our surroundings for dozens of miles. This not only aids the
navigator with very reliable position fixing ranges but also allows for
the assessment of collision risks with other vessels.

Third, and arguably the most extraordinary advancement was that of the
Global Positioning System made possible thanks to the 24 satellites sent
into orbit by the United States Department of Defense. This satellite
"constellation" now provides any aircraft, ship or person with a GPS
receiver to have very reliable, within a few meters, latitude, longitude
and altitude information. For the maritime user we are most concerned
with the course over ground and speed over ground our vessel is making
which the receiver gives in addition to our position. Furthermore, the
GPS also provides the universal time in hours, minutes and seconds
meaning that the lazy second mate never need worry again about
chronometer error.

The last and most recent revelation in marine navigation is that of the
Automated Identification System which now provides us with detailed
information for any vessel, shore station or buoy equipped with an AIS
transmitter. This new system gives the navigator much more information
about a target vessel than provided by navigational lights and day
shapes or radar. The true course, speed, position, call sign, cargo and
number of souls onboard are just a few things listed.

Before the advent of radar when assessing the Risk of Collision with a
nearby vessel the navigator relied on navigational lights at night and
bearing drift or visual relative motion. After the radar scope came into
the picture a ruler and grease pencil could be used to draw a plot to
determine the closest point of approach with danger targets. This
calculation performed by hand was time consuming and prone to
inaccuracy. If not done quickly and carefully, something I realized
firsthand when running the deck of a tall ship and trying to keep and
eye on students and off of the rocks, was eventually automated. The
development of ARPA or Automatic Radar Plotting Aids meant that with the
click of a button the target is tracked and the collision information of
the vessel is calculated and displayed on the radar screen.

By determining the closest point of approach and time of CPA the
navigator now can apply the International Collision Regulations early
and with accuracy. Unfortunately it was common that one vessel oblivious
to the risk of collision, such as a head on situation when both vessels
are required to alter course, would never answer the radio. Even after
repeatedly reading their true course, speed and your vessel's position
relative to theirs over the radio, or as the navy prefers, relative to
themselves (Something they have improved on)they would be inexplicably
silent.

A situation which required cooperation from an approaching vessel that
refused to pick up the VHF puts the observant navigator in a sticky
situation. With AIS the likely hood of not having bridge-to-bridge
communications has been greatly reduced. A ship is much less reluctant
to answer the radio when you are calling them by name; one of the many
pieces of information included in a Class A AIS target's expanded data.

With each development in navigational technology, and there are many
more than mentioned here, the risk of miscalculating a position or a CPA
is reduced. It makes seafaring a safer and more efficient business. But
with each advancement the convenience the equipment provides can
potentially reduce the vigilance always needed from a watch officer.

GPS is a prime example of this. Instead of having to use long trusted
methods to fix one's position in open ocean or confined waters the
navigator no longer needs to retain these skills. Instead a reliable fix
is attained by reading out the latitude and longitude from the GPS at
anytime anywhere in the world. Convenient? Sure. Accurate? Yes. But does
it generate a reluctance to identify different lighthouses as landfall
is made or locate buoys on the radar in search of a channel's entrance?
Definitely.

When it comes to over reliance on GPS I always think about a mate I
worked with a few years back. One very clear night when steaming
eastward in the Mediterranean he found himself in a panic after sighting
hundreds of lights popping up over the northern horizon as we were
headed for the Suez Canal. The radars were completely blank at the 24
mile range so he called the Captain after suffering much doubt. A few
minutes later the old man rushed up to the wheelhouse, cigarette in
hand, and had a look out the window and then slowly walked over to the
chart and confirmed what he already knew. He informed the third mate
that the lights he was seeing were those of Corsica and promptly retired
a little less confident in his officer's abilities.

Had the mate actually studied the chart and not just blindly put down
GPS fixes every hour than he might have realized that he was only thirty
miles off the island's coast and closing. The combined height of the
vessel's bridge and the hills of Corsica meant that the navigational
lights onshore followed by the lights of villages became increasingly
visible over the course of the watch. Ranging out on the radar would
have saved him considerable embarrassment the next morning at breakfast.
Unknowingly making landfall is one example of the complaisance
technology which does it all for you can breed.

AIS can also lead to this same issue. I recently came up to the bridge
for my watch as we were just passing through the last leg of the traffic
scheme separating England and France. The radar was full of targets as
expected but not a single target had been plotted with the ARPA. Instead
both radar, the 10 cm and the 3 cm, had the AIS target function enabled.
This provided information for ever vessel carrying AIS but no data for
the cluster of fishing just outside the scheme and intent on crossing
it. Rather than taking over the watch with a firm handle on the smaller
targets intentions I had to form my own opinion after waiting the two or
three minutes for the ARPA to calculate the target's data loosing time
to make an informed move in a crowded traffic lane.

In this case the third mate was depending on only one means of
determining risk of collision and it only applied to vessels equipped
with AIS. It also meant that the radars were completely out of tune
since he no longer needed to worry about a good picture to pick up the
smaller unequipped targets which he essentially ignored. I have yet to
see something in the standing orders where a mate is required to not
rely solely on the AIS for collision avoidance but it wouldn't hurt.

Now I'll be the first to admit that I've strayed into wonkishness yet
again but I feel compelled to relay my concerns of technology trumping
situational awareness. I hope this might serve to remind some of the
sailors out there, most importantly myself, to keep the other seldom
used tools of our profession sharp, even if you're lucky enough to have
electronic charts and a voyage management system to guide you along the
way.

As Captain Bligh put it so long ago;

"As an officer and a Navigator I have ever looked with horror on neglect
and indolence, and have never yet crossed the Seas without that
foresight which is necessary to the well doing of the voyage..."
("Bligh", Gavin Kennedy, Duckworth 1978, p131.)

"It's time Americans went back to sea."

The American Merchant Marine has one hell of an ally on the West Coast. His name is Stas Magaronis and he is the president of Santa Maria Shipping, a subsidiary of Santa Maria Shipowning & Trading. Santa Maria has been a family owned business for generations and together with his cousin he has been trying to build a ship in the United States since 1998.

I heard Mr. Magaronis speak on one of my favorite maritime pod casts, Messing About In Ships this morning to discuss the need for revitalizing the United State's Marine Highway System.
Santa Maria Shipping has introduced a Marine Highway Bill to the House Transportation Committee to reauthorize money for the title 11 loan guarantee program. This bill, if passed, would provide $350 million dollars to back American shipyards in constructing a fleet of up to 66 purpose built Short Seas Shipping vessels.

According to Mr. Magaronis a fleet of this many low sulfur burning container ships would remove 20,000 trucks from the nations overcrowded coastal highway corridors while burning only 2/3 of the fuel necessary for each truck load of cargo. The construction and cargo handling operations for these vessels would create 20,000 jobs while the operation of the fleet would create jobs for 2,000 American Merchant Mariners.

He compared the importance of this initiative to rebuild America's coastal transportation to the need for building Liberty Ships during World War Two. The over reliance on foreign heavy industry has not only withered the United State's shipyard building capacities but discouraged banks from lending the capital necessary to begin a viable short seas shipping program here at home because of the long held risk associated with domestic maritime ventures.

Mr. Margonis addressed the difference between tug and barge transportation and the more efficient short seas ship used by all large maritime nations, especially in Europe and Asia. A ship specifically designed for mostly 53' containers would operate more efficiently and swiftly lending it's advantages to transporting containerized time sensitive cargoes. The tug and barge on the other hand is better suited for use on the vast inland waterways of the U.S. Designing these small ships specifically for 53 foot containers is important for encouraging large trucking companies to use the short seas routes to move freight quickly and at a lower cost while reducing CO2 emissions.

Most importantly this bill would create a heavy industry that has, with a few exceptions, been absent from the United States. Additionally for every manufacturing job created the multiplier effect creates four more jobs whereas a service industry job creates less than one. At a time when the world economy is in such a bad place the United States needs to take every step it can to create good paying, skilled labor jobs and to reduce our debt to foreign nations bringing heavy industries back to our shores. And of course most importantly to me, as Mr. Magaronis said "It's time Americans went back to sea" and this bill would definitely do just that.

The time has never been better to secure some of that stimulus money for building a true Short Seas Shipping system for the United States. The Obama administration has been friendly to the idea and we need it now more than ever before. Check out the Green Highway Initiative and sign the petition if you feel strongly about this. You can always write your representative in government as well.

From Deepwater Slideshow

While this photograph I took in Germany is not of a container vessel it is a picture of another vessel typical of Short Seas Shipping. The Roll On / Roll Off vessel handles cargoes like automobiles and other commodities better driven or pulled onto a ship than into a container, loaded onto a car trailer or onto a flat bed and trucked down I-95. Another piece in the Short Seas puzzle. Check out Coastal Connect for more information on this particular mode of transportation.