To supplement Liz’s pictures Tom has written a (too) detailed piece on “All you ever wanted to know about the ship, Hanjin Boston, but were afraid to ask (...lest it be answered). Both of us had innumerable questions about the ship and mindful that some of our friends are nautical and/or techies, Tom has provided the details. If you lack the endurance to read it all, you can jump to the section of interest.
* Why did we take a freighter trip?
* Who travels on cargo ships?
* Accepting passengers
The ship:
* Ship basics
* Bridge
* Crew
* Galley, provisioning and dining
* Navigation and weather
* Health and first aid
* Anchoring
* Ship life expectancy
* Shipping and the worldwide economic meltdown
* Entering and leaving port
* Port safety and stowaways
* Seafarers and the shipping industry
* The Shipping Business (or who is “Hanjin”)
* Shipping and the worldwide economic meltdown.The engine:
* Main engine
* Auxiliary engines
* BunkeringCargo:
* Cargo and cargo handling
* Cargo capacity
* Cargo loading and distribution
* Maintaining good ship ‘trim'
* Stevedores
* Life on board
* Port-to-port log of our travelsOakland, USA to Busan, South Korea
Busan, South Korea to Yantian, China
Yantian, China to Kaohsiung, Taiwan
Kaohsiung, Taiwan to Shanghai, China
Shanghai, China to Kwangyang, South Korea
Kwangyang, South Korea to Busan, South Korea
Busan, South Korea to Long Beach, USA
Long Beach, USA to Oakland, USA
Why a freighter trip? Our objectives were both shared, and individual. Several objectives were those of learning about ocean-going ships and crews, enjoying quality time with each other, crossing again by boat the ocean we last crossed in 1984 on our 38' cutter Alter Ego, and seeing Asia from the vantage point of cargo ports. Other objectives were more personal.
Liz. Liz also wanted to see how to live in a “bubble” surrounded by ocean, with what we brought with us and without contact with the outside world. However, most of her time is taken up with how to update our website (www.bikenfly.org) using Dreamweaver CS4 and the new, standardized Cascading Style Sheets. She has been creating pages for about 10 years, but she wanted to move toward using standardized technology. For this task, she has two manuals, one “for Dummies” and one a 1,000-page tome which is useful but packed with details for professional and commercial web designers. Another manual addresses iMovie to incorporate both still and video photography on her new MacBook Pro laptop. She took two week-long courses in photography (of people, and of places), and Tom got a new tiny camcorder. Fascinating, frustrating stuff! You can check out the results of these labors when we get home.
Tom. Tom’s objectives included a combination of uninterrupted work, occupational transition, escape from the daily deluge of work-related emails, recreational reading and learning the basics of videography. His ‘work’ is on a new GHEC / UCSF project, developing a modular introductory course on global health. With his 78th birthday looming ahead on August 14 he is using this trip as an opportunity to start changing his role at the Global Health Education Consortium. Up until now he has been working near full-time as GHEC’s Executive Director, combining about 55% time in administrative matters, 35% time on program matters, and 10% on other UCSF and volunteer program activities. The ocean trip is thus a first venture into reducing the administrative component and shifting more toward that of a semi-retired ‘program person’, involved in the production and distribution of GHEC products.
Who travels on cargo ships? Two short answers, we do, and at least for our part of the world, not very many people. Based on the experience of our hosts most passengers are retired (the usual maximum age is 79), and most voyages don’t have passengers. Liz and I are exceptions to the usual passengers what with our long experience with boats and the sea. Our route this year is not in much demand; long ocean passages, generally cloudy, cold and sometimes very rough weather, and very short times (and inconvenient hours), in port. Most passengers seem content to escape from their land activities and spend time in state rooms or in a deck chair reading. Occasionally persons will sign on without any notion of what freighter cruising is like and soon become very bored and unhappy. We also heard of passengers who spent their voyage nursing vodka or other libations from start to end.
Policy of accepting passengers. The decision as to whether to accept passengers is up to the ship operator, not the crew. For the crew of a working ship passengers can mean potential problems without compensatory pay. These problems include requests for services or ‘entertainment’ not normally available on working ships, personality conflicts, work distractions, more time spent in a foreign (to the crew) language, risks to passenger health and to the ship, and post-trip complaints. We are therefore very appreciative to NSB for their passenger policy and to the Hanjin Boston’s crew for the warmth and openness with which we have been received. Of particular note is the access we have been accorded to virtually all of the ship. There are many ways an uninformed, careless or malevolent passenger could complicate the voyage, and considering ship motion and the elderly age of most passengers, the risk of a fall (and a fracture) is always there. We were pleased to observe carefully all precautions, to ask permissions when appropriate, and most of all, to stay out of the way with mouth shut (at times, a challenge, given our never-ending quest for information), when on the bridge.
We would also like to commend NSB for the excellent NSB Magazine they publish in German and English. Lots of pictures, stories, glossaries of nautical and freighter business terms, and information about the many different aspects of ship equipment and management. Very informative, well edited and it almost made us feel part of the NSB family.
The Ship
Ship basics. The Hanjin Boston was constructed by Hyundai Heavy Industries. Hamburg is its home port, it flies the German flag and the ship’s international registration code is DDZK2. It is owned by a German company, “Conti,” which builds and leases ships to a variety of shipping companies. The Hanjin Boston is now under a long term lease to Hanjin Shipping, a Korean freight shipping company. NSB, our ‘host,’ hires the Hanjin Boston crew and operates and maintains the ship. In sum, Hyundai built the ship, Conti owns it, Hanjin leases it, and NSB operates it.
The ship was delivered on 30 June 2005, a scant five months after laying the keel in Korea, for the bargain cost of ~$75-80 millions (fancy yachts at a fraction of our size can easily cost $10-20 M and more). Rapid construction is the result of standardization, with multiple ships of precisely the same dimensions. Ship construction is facilitated by constructing the various hull sections separately, concurrently and in different locations, and then welding them together.
The Hanjin Boston is BIG! At 300 meters (985') long and 43 M (141') wide, she is much too wide for the Panama Canal. Normal draft is 13.0 M with a maximum of 14.5 M (48'). From keel to masthead is 61.4 M (201'), with 48 M (156') above water; the main external deck is ~38’ above the water. She can carry 7471 (call it 7500) TEUs, or “20-foot equivalent units.” In early containership days these units were 20' by 8' by 8.6', so the units could be carried by flatbed trucks on the highways. The great majority of the units are now 40' x 8' and often 9'6" high. The Hanjin has 8 watertight cargo holds with 17 covered hatches. Depending on the location up to 9 units can be stacked vertically below deck, up to 7 above deck, and up to 17 across the ship’s width. Four rows of boxes are located aft of our living quarters and 14 rows are forward; in sum, we are one big box carrying many smaller boxes. All boxes are positioned with their long axis aligned with that of the ship. The gross registered (metric) tonnage is listed as 82,794, and the deadweight tonnage as 93,500, both being formula-derived values rather than what you would get on a scale. The actual weight varies greatly depending on the cargo and ballast water aboard but for practical purposes, when empty, the ship itself weighs ~29,300 tons and when fully loaded, displaces ~122,830 tons.
Bridge. Eight decks above the top of the basic hull and two decks above the highest boxes the bridge is a delightful perch. Ahead, windows across the width of the hull and out to the wing bridges; behind, a view of the near infinite straight line of our wake; and inside, enough electronics to keep a technology fan happy. Redundancy is everywhere: two gyro compasses; multiple autopilots; many radios and email communications with home base; five ways to turn the rudder (a small wheel, two joy sticks, and two bridge-wing wheels); three radars and radar alarm systems; two ways to blow the horn; engine rpm can be controlled independently either from the bridge or the engine room; multiple GPS and plotter units; fathometers; doppler units to determine independently the lateral drift of the bow and stern; weather fax, barometer, and anemometer; binoculars and two units to determine relative bearing; in-ship telephone and loud speaker systems; large chart locker and plotting table; many volumes of logs and manuals; details on cargo distribution, ship’s manifest; head, coffee mugs, sink, head and more. The bridge-wings have separate controls so that the master and pilot can control the ship from the side of the ship. Since the ship remains on autopilot for everything but harbor work, way-point to way-point by great circle route or (direct) rhumb-line, the duty helmsman is free to move about and attend routine chores. The radar alarm would call his attention to another target but sighting other ships is apparently rare, only several times per ocean crossing. Because of the 200 meters of boxes forward of the bridge the helmsman can see only from ~500 meters ahead of the bow. Immediately below the bridge are the bunks and day rooms of the captain, chief mate and chief engineer and one more deck down is our quarters, a few feet higher that the highest boxes forward and aft.
Crew. According to international regulations the ship must have a minimum of 18 officers and crew. On our trip there were 23, 5 German officers, a German rating and trainee, and 16 Filipino crew (including the 3rd mate, 3rd engineer, and electrician), plus the two of us as supercargo (and a 3rd American who joined us for the return leg). For the officers the typical rotation is 5 months continuous duty on the ship followed by 3 on shore leave, while for the Filipinos, 7-9 months and up to 2 months leave. For the most part crew cannot choose their route, ship or companions and since different crew members may have different tours of duty, they do not all change at the same time. Our crew roster included: captain (who does not stand watches), 1st, 2nd and 3rd mates (who stand two four-hour bridge watches each), chief engineer, 2nd and 3rd engineers, electrician, apprentice mechanic, three oilers, fitter (for pipes, welding, etc.), bosun mate (who oversees deck work), four ABs (able-bodied seamen), two ordinary seamen, chief cook, a messman/steward, and trainee. Every crew member has his own room and bathroom, and the officers and crew each have their own ‘mess’ (dining room) and recreation rooms, complete with a small library, music, karoke equipment, DVD systems and an assortment of DVD movies and music. The ship also has a small gym room with ping pong table, stationary bikes, weights, a sauna, and a ~9x15' swimming pool. The pool, about 5' deep, is filled with salt water when in clean warm waters, and when the fresh water supply is abundant, with fresh water.
All members of our crew were welcoming, helpful, and very responsive to our interests in learning more about the containership industry. We were also most impressed with the crew’s performance, their attention to the details of navigation, to maintaining a safe ship in excellent ‘shipshape’ condition. We are especially appreciative of time spent with the captain, the chief mates and chief engineer, who went out of their way to respond to our interests and to our many questions, chores very marginal to their shipboard responsibility. We also appreciated the attentions of our steward who daily checked our room, weekly gave it a good cleaning, and was soon attuned to our mealtime favorites.
During our trip the captain arranged for a barbeque fiesta for the entire crew and we had three post-supper birthday celebrations for crew members. Lots of good cheer, talk, drinks and munchies, and many volunteers to take a turn at karaoke. Though staying on key in an unknown song was a challenge, crew spirits made up for any deficiencies in the renditions.
Galley, provisioning and dining. The ship had a fine stainless steel galley/kitchen backed up by at least three large food storage rooms. One was ship temperature for dry and canned goods, one was cooled for vegetables and fruits, and one was well below freezing. The cook faxes an order list to the shore company which arranges for food to be delivered at the next port. The menu changes somewhat depending on whether re-supply is in Asia or North America. For us meal times were 7:30, noon, and 5:30, though some officers come a bit earlier or later to accommodate watch schedules. Thursday and Sunday feature cake and/or ice cream, Friday is fish day, Saturday is a thick soup day (per the practice in the German navy), and Monday through Wednesday are, as one wag said, none of the above. The menu is fixed, simple, good, and a rather different menu is provided to the officers and crew messes. Since our opportunities for serious exercise are limited, we avoided second helpings.
Navigation and weather. The normal routing is to follow a great circle route to Pusan, passing through the Aleutians near the base of the archipelago and then back through it toward the end. The company’s weather routing service advised, however, that there were 9-15' swells from a previous storm in the area just north of the Aleutians so the captain elected to take a more southerly route to avoid this area. Large swells mean slower speed, more fuel, and extra strain on the ship due to the uneven support the waves give to our long hull. The additional distance that resulted from this course change was negligible but we were sad to miss seeing the Aleutians. Our first sighting of land was at the southern end of the island of Hokkaido, Japan, and then through the narrow strait separating that island from the rest Japan. The weather on our outbound trip was very benign, averaging 10-15 knots of wind, waves seldom more than 3-4 feet, few whitecaps and occasional fog and rain. We didn’t see the sun for most of our outbound trip, normal for this location and time of year. Once in the Sea of Japan we were ahead of schedule so the engine was stopped for ~12 hours and we drifted. With a side profile of almost 90,000 square feet even the light 10-knot breeze blew us sidewise at almost 2 knots; impressive for a ship of this size and with a draft exceeding 30'.
Health and first aid. The 2nd mate is the responsible for the small first aid room and medicine cabinets. The room is equipped with an examining table, basic diagnostic equipment, and a surprisingly well stocked pharmacy, including some narcotics under lock and the captain’s care. There were a number of reference books available, including a 500-page hardbound book, available both in German and English translation, that was published by German maritime authorities on maintaining health at sea. The book is excellent, very detailed, many color illustrations of diagnostic and therapeutic procedures, and designed for the non-medical corpsman. For each major type of symptom or sign, e.g., collapse, fever, breathing problems, diarrhea, chest or abdominal pain, etc., a multicolor table is provided with the leading possible causes in specified (40%, 25%, 15%, etc.) order of probability. For each presumptive cause there are rows listing the diagnostic signs and symptoms that will help differentiate between the options. Section references for each diagnosis then take the user to additional detail on diagnosis and treatment.
As would be expected the crews occasionally have serious illnesses and injuries and in such situations professional help can be obtained by radio (Germany provides a 24/7 service to German-flagged ships), transfer made to another ship closer to land, or if close to land, evacuation by helicopter. There is no helipad on board but a basket can be lowered for the patient. Rarely a death occurs at sea and we heard several stories of such events. Handily, the large galley freezer can easily accommodate the deceased until the ship reaches land; no burials at sea in the cargo trade.
Anchoring. The ship carries two 13.3-ton anchors and 2400' of chain measured in “shackles” (about 27.5 M/shackle). Each shackle length is attached to the next one by means of a large, specially configured shackle (or chain link), painted red and preceded and followed but white stripes, the number of which correspond to the number of shackles paid out. With 13 shackles of chain for one anchor and 11 for the other there is quite a load in the bow. We are advised that most anchoring requires 5-6 shackles and maximally, 9, or ~250 M of chain in anchorages subject to lots of wind and current. The massive electric windlass with a 99-ton maximum lift capacity and half that for normal use takes 5-7 minutes to retrieve each shackle of chain. Since most anchoring is for short periods of time while waiting for a berth, the crew deploys only the minimum shackles necessary for the local conditions.
Ship life expectancy. Modern cargo ships of this class, with reasonably good maintenance, have a useful life of 20-25 years. The quality of construction and construction materials has reportedly declined in recent decades leading to a somewhat shorter useful life than in the past, exacerbated by rapid changes in ship design. The number of crew required for a large cargo ship bears little relation to its capacity but since relatively few cargo routes can justify the very large TEU capacities now being built (up to 14,000 TEUs), many smaller capacity ships are still in operation.
Entering and leaving port. A few comments for mariner enthusiasts may be of interest. I wasn’t going to comment on this aspect of freighter travel until I came across the 69 pp. booklet that summarizes the rules, regulations and tide tables for entering the port of Long Beach. As you likely know a local pilot is required to be aboard when entering and leaving port. The pilot provides advice but the ship’s master is the final authority. Reportedly most pilots are efficient and helpful, as was the case on our trip, but occasionally the officers encounter very marginal pilots (as on the ill-fated Cosco Busan in San Francisco!) or those who are so overweight or infirm that they can barely climb aboard and/or ascend 10-12 decks up to the bridge. But aside from pilots, what must the officers know and deal with? Some examples, taken from the 2009 Port of Long Beach Tidetables and Reference Guide, and applied to a vessel of our size and weight.
• Minimum under keel clearance requirements. For a non-tanker our size a scant 1.5' is required but our captain rightly says he would want at least 3' and preferably 6' clearance. Complicating these regulations is the “squat” problem; in a tight berthing slot accommodating several ships a departing ship can lower the others by several feet.
• Tug escort requirements. Specifies bollard pull capacities required of tug escorts and tug assists for tankers of various weights. A large tanker would require a tug with 85 tons of bollard pull.
• Tables for calculating changes in depth. A one degree list would increase our draft by 1.2' and a one degree of pitch change, draft by 8.5', changes not good for ships that theoretically could get by with a required minimum clearance of 1.5'.
• Wind force chart. A 30-knot crosswind to our 9000 sq. meter profile puts a 105-ton lateral force to the ship, requiring a lot of extra tug force to keep us on course.
• Bridge clearances. Provides high-water clearances for 4 harbor bridges.
• Stack emissions and Green Flag Incentive Program. Calls for sharply reduced sulfur emissions (0.5%) starting in 2009 and down to 0.1% by 2012 within 24 miles of the California coast, a major challenge for ships burning bunker oil. Ships and ship fleets observing a 12-knot speed limit within 20 miles of the port have reduced port fees as an incentive to reduce pollution.
• Ballast water program. Reminds operators of the federal and local ballast water exchange requirements designed to reduce the introduction of invasive species into the marine environment due to the exchange of ballast water.
• Speed limits. Allowable speeds in different locations according to type and size of vessel, and visibility. For us, 10 knots, dropping to 6 in the inner harbor.
• Vessel low sulfur fuel incentive program.
• Dock, wharf and crane facilities specifications. Provides a long list wharf heights and minimum water depths, crane heights and characteristics,
• Port communication procedures. Provides 12 frequencies to cover various types of messages to pilots, tugs, bridge operators, vessel traffic service, port authorities, ship bridge to ship bridge, etc.
• Anchoring regulations. Locations, depths, under keel requirements, and when required.
• Pilot ladder requirements. Two pages of illustrations, options, minimum requirements.
Port safety and stowaways. Port safety, especially since 9/11, is a significant concern. During time in port there is a crew member posted full-time at the gangway, ID cards by the crew are issued and taken so that any moment the ship knows who is ashore and who is on board, and the number of stevedores on board is controlled. All doors providing access from the external stairways are locked from the inside so you can’t get access except via the gangway entrance. The worry is stowaways and even with these controls, the captain asks the crew to do a stowaway check during the last 20+ minutes before sailing. By regulation ships must also do a stowaway check before calling at American reports. Accordingly, on August 18 the captain again set all hands to re-visit potential stowaway haunts, each crew member having an assigned part of the ship. A stowaway creates a big headache for the ship. Lots of paperwork, potential harm to the ship, lots of difficulties at the next port where the stowaway must be declared, and super-difficulties if the nationality of the stowaway is not known. Even if one determines the home country if the man (stowing away is a man’s business) lacks a passport the home country will likely refuse to accept him and then it becomes the responsibility of the ship and/or destination port. Additionally, the question of how the stowaway got on board; was it an inside, smuggling outfit’s job, or that of a loner? And if an inside job, who made the arrangements among the 20+ crew? If discovered while under way the ship may have to fashion a (comfortable) cell for him and keep him in the style to which he would like to become accustomed. A big time nightmare and hence the precautions to keep it from happening.
Seafarers and the shipping industry. The Philippines provides about 250,000 crew of the worldwide total of almost one million. They send ~$2 billion in remittances to their home country, almost 30% of the total sent by overseas Filipino workers. With ~40,000 commercial ships in the 1000-ton plus category this gives a ratio, including crew on leave, of ~25/ship. The world fleet of large ships has a gross tonnage exceeding >700 million. The top five ship-owning countries are Greece, Japan, Germany, China, and the U.S. The average age of the world’s fleet is a relatively old 22 years, with U.S. ships tending toward the older end of the spectrum.
In a listing of the registrations for the 95,000 ships of 100+ tons, the 32 “flags of convenience” countries, e.g., Panama, Liberia, Bahamas, account for ~15% of the total. These countries charge relatively low registration fees and tend to have lax and often unenforced safety regulations. The Seafarers’ Bulletin, published by the International Transport Workers’ Federation, gave numerous examples of seafarers not getting paid according to their contracts and of the attempts through litigation and vessel seizure to enforce payment. They post inspectors in many ports to check on working conditions and followup on contract complaints.
We became more aware of the special challenges of seafarers and of the labor market for mariners. Unlike workers in most transportation industries ship crews are small, multinational, multilingual, they spend many months away from families, shore leave is short and getting shorter due to fast turnaround, rich countries may prohibit shore leave out of concern that crew will jump ship, ships are rarely in home waters, duty hours are necessarily long, shipboard facilities and amenities are limited, and pay and benefits tend to be low. Moreover, the reality that crew members have individual contracts frequently out of phase with their peers, and the hierarchical nature of a ship, both discourage long-term friendships. They are a tough lot, doing a tough and very important job, and we have great respect for their efforts.
The Shipping Business (or who is “Hanjin”). The shipping business is complicated but here is what we understand is the case with our ship. Hanjin, a Korean company in the business of chartering freighters of various types, advises Conti, a German ship owner, that it would like a new containership of 7500 TEU capacity and indicates it is prepared to enter into a long-term lease (10+ years) of the ship. Conti borrows money from multiple banks and contracts with Hyundai Heavy Industries in Korea to build the Hanjin Boston. Conti also contracts with NSB, a German company, to oversee the ship’s construction to make sure it complies with the contracted specifications and to provide crew for its operation and keep it in good condition. The Hanjin Boston is launched, sea trials concluded, and it enters into service. During the life of the lease the Hanjin company handles all the work of finding cargo, loading and unloading cargo at its terminal facilities, paying fuel and other major bills, and making lease payments to Conti.
NSB currently operates more than 110 ships held under lease by various freight charter companies, not just Hanjin. Most are containerships with a combined capacity of almost 500,000 TEUs*, and a few are gas tankers (LNG or LPG)**. With close to 3000 employees NSB operates worldwide, has a new ship simulator facility in Germany, and its ships generally have tightly scheduled routes. Most of those operated by NSB were built new under its supervision by shipbuilders in Germany, Korea, Romania, and elsewhere, though a few are purchased and re-named via the used ship market.
*As a reminder, TEU = “Twenty-foot equivalent units”, the original container box measuring 20' by 8' wide by 8.5' high. Most boxes are now 40'. The largest ships now being built exceed 14,000 TEUs; we are a puny 7500 TEUs.
**LNG is liquefied natural gas. LNG becomes liquid, and hence economically transportable, only at -161 degrees C. LNG tankers must therefore have very costly cooling equipment on board. LPG is liquefied petroleum gas, which are gases created by refining crude oil. These can be liquefied even at room temperatures with little excess pressure and thus are much easier to transport.
Conti, as a ship owner, registers most of its ships under the German flag though a few are registered in countries that offer “flags of convenience,” e.g., Panama, Liberia, Marshall Islands. The many types of insurance* required in the ship business are arranged through the Swedish Club, one of several insurance ‘mutualities.’ These clubs, formed and managed by groups of ship owners, collectively insure their ships.
*I read quite a bit about the casualty business and insurance arrangements in the shipping industry. They have a dizzying array of hazards to deal with. Risk assessment and management is much more complicated than, say, for house, car or life insurance. In each of these and many other areas claims are relatively frequent, smallish, and over time quite predictable due to the large claims experience database. In shipping claims cover a very diverse range of risks, are less frequent and can be very, very expensive. Thus it is harder to set relatively stable premium rates. Among the insurable risks are: groundings, collisions, fires, machinery breakdowns, cargo damage, cargo delays, lay-ups due to insufficient business, oil spills, stowaways, pirates, route deviations to deal with serious crew illness, crew injuries, contractual disputes, drug seizures, etc.
Bottom line: ship ownership and management is a complex business!
Shipping and the worldwide economic meltdown. One measure of the global economic meltdown is the number of ships anchored many miles out from port (and hence outside a country’s immediate ship traffic zone). Currently 10.5% of the world’s containership capacity, 8.5% of car carrier capacity, and 5% of bulk carrier capacity are in lay-up status. As noted in our trip log many anchored ships were seen outside of Shanghai and several other ports. Our own ship was anchored six weeks with a full crew on board during early 2009 due to the lack of business. It’s normal route was taken by a smaller ship and even though crew size changes little with ship size, the fuel cost is significantly lower due to the smaller engines required. While anchoring is less costly than paying port charges and occupying scarce berth space, it is has its own problems. Crews can’t go ashore, stowaway risks still exist, and good anchoring locations are limited. The list of desirable anchorage features includes: low pirate, stowaway and storm risks; relatively shallow depths, good swinging room and ‘holding’ ground; cold water; and low humidity and salinity (easier on the complex electronics). And wherever the location the crew must stay on board; no shore leave allowed.
The Hanjin Boston’s officers say they have seen early signs of a turnaround since the number of anchored ships is declining but even so, ships are traveling at well below full capacity. In our own case we are carrying only about 50% of our rated 7500 TEU containers, we are ~50,000 tons ‘light,’ and the return trip to Asia will largely be empty boxes. We assume that NSB and other charterers are now biting their nails over the outstanding contracts that will add new containerships, including some with a capacity of up to 14,000 TEUs, over the next few years.
The Engine
Main engine. The Hanjin is driven by a 12-cylinder, two-stroke engine (i.e., each cylinder fires when the piston reaches the top of its movement). It is huge - it weighs 2,075 tons, is 23+ M long (75') and 12+ M (40') high, and the cylinders are just under a meter in diameter. Maximum horsepower is rated at 93,120 hp (65,000 kW) at 104 rpm and about 50-60% of that power level at 84 rpm, its normal cruising power. At the cruise setting its 8.95 M (29') diameter four-blade propeller drives the Hanjin at 20+ knots (~24 mph) in calm waters and it can top out at 25.5 knots. Higher speeds sharply increase fuel consumption and engine wear so the reserve power is rarely used. (As a curiosity to us the engine cannot be operated except for a few hours at a time at slower speeds due to reduced blower effectiveness and a consequent gumming up of the engine. This has resulted in the necessity of shutting off the engine and drifting for a few hours when we were ahead of our schedule.) Fresh cooling water exits the engine at ~85 degrees C. and after passing through several massive salt/fresh water heat exchangers, re-enters the cooling circuit at ~35 degrees. By regulation when the ship is within ~20 miles of the West Coast of the US it must run on diesel fuel to reduce the output of sulfur. Bunker oil, its normal fuel, is at the bottom of the petroleum food chain after refineries have extracted gasoline, kerosene, diesel, etc. It has 3-4% sulfur while diesel is ~0.5% sulfur. The engine is designed for and much prefers the thicker bunker oil and can develop hiccups or even fail when on diesel. On the second day of our trip the chief engineer shut down the engine for an hour to make some adjustments on one cylinder, problems probably occasioned by the use of diesel.
The bunker oil, with a much heavier viscosity approaching that of honey, has many more impurities than diesel. En route from the tank to the engine the fuel oil must be heated to reduce viscosity, then pass through a “settling tank,” and finally, a number of filters to remove impurities. It then goes through a low pressure pump which sends the oil at 6 bar/atmospheres to each cylinder’s high pressure pumps, powered off of a cam from the crankshaft. This latter pump sends the fuel into the cylinder at 350 bars via three injectors, each with five nozzle holes. Cylinder pressure at the peak of the stroke is ~80 atmospheres at cruise rpm, and ~120 atmospheres at the maximum rpm. This compares with ~20 atmospheres of pressure on the normal car or boat diesel engine and only 7-8 atmospheres on a gasoline engine.
On the first leg of our trip we are carrying ~6500 tons of fuel with a total capacity of the two main types of fuel approaching 11,000 tons (~4 million US gallons) in 12 tanks. The daily cruise speed consumption is ~160 tons of bunker oil (59,000 US gallons), rising to 260 tons at maximum speed. An additional 10 tons are consumed by the auxiliary engines. Bunker fuel now costs about $320/ton or a bit over $1/gallon so with a daily fuel bill approaching $55,000, an ‘economy’ cruise speed is very desirable. At cruise speed the Hanjin consumes ~120 gallons per mile, not exactly fuel efficient until you factor in its cargo load. With a full cargo load of 75,000 tons a gallon of fuel will carry a ton well over 600 miles, an efficiency much higher than ~400 ton-mile rate of the railroads.*
*As one who in his professional life has worked extensively in health sector simulations I developed a spreadsheet for estimating the cost of delivering a ton of payload cargo based on ‘reasonable assumptions.’ Fuel and ship amortization costs were the two biggest items. The final cost estimates were in the $20-30 per delivered ton range, depending on assumptions regarding fuel costs, the number of filled boxes and the degree to which there were any filled boxes going from the US to Asia. If these estimates are at all realistic then the cost per single item (shirt, hi fi, shoes, rubber bathtub ducky, etc.) in a 20-ton box is little more than pocket change. Some actual estimates by NSB are provided later on and concur with my findings.
The engine crankshaft connects directly to a massive flywheel and then to the propeller shaft so that propeller rpm is the same as engine rpm. As a result there is no “idle”; the engine is either off or the propeller is turning. To go into reverse the engine must be stopped and then by 30 bar compressed air pumped into each cylinder, started in the reverse direction. If the engine is shut down at cruise speed it can take up to 30+ minutes for the ship to come to a full stop and even in an emergency the stopping time could require over 15 minutes. Even to reduce the revolutions to 65, the upper end of the maneuvering speed of ~15 knots, takes 20 minutes under normal circumstances. The engine can’t be started in reverse until the propeller comes to a stop and adjustments made to accommodate the reverse engine rotation. Bringing the propeller to a stop takes time since the ship’s passage through the water keeps it turning until speed is much reduced. Engine resistance to the force of the propeller can be increased somewhat by multiple injections of compressed air into the cylinders contrary to the normal pattern of rotation but even this process is slow. The engine has a minimum operating speed of ~24 rpm which results in a speed of 7-8 knots. Since this is too fast for tight maneuvering and docking in crowded harbors the engine must be stopped intermittently to reduce speed further, and with the rudder losing effect below 4-5 knots, tugs are used to control direction. (As an interesting side note, design specifications require that the compressed air tank capacity must be sufficient to make eight normal starts before having to recharge the tank. Suffice to say it would be not be good to use the air inefficiently and/or have a balky engine and thus run out of compressed air, which is the engine’s starting motor. Reportedly one of the marks of a good engineer is the number of starts he can achieve before depleting the compressed air tank.)
We paid a visit to the rear end of the propeller shaft, where the hull comes down to a broad “V”. Among the features was a narrow escape hatch where a crew member trapped by water or an engine fire (the entire engine room can be flooded with carbon dioxide gas), can ascend by a very long ladder to the deck.
Auxiliary engines. In addition to the main engine there are four large diesel generators, two of 2000 kW capacity and two of 2500 kW. Normal ship operation requires only one generator which is adequate to handle all necessary lights and appliances, a large air conditioning and ventilation system, and some ‘reefer’ boxes. When the electrical load gets up to about 2/3rds of the rated capacity of the operating generator a second one automatically starts, and so on. A major determinant of the electrical load is the number of reefers on board. The Hanjin Boston can carry up to 500 refrigerated TEU boxes that are plugged into ship’s power. Some reefers lower the temperature to 35-40 degrees F. and some keep the contents below freezing. Another major drain on the power is the 2500 kW (3300 hp) bowthruster and when that is in operation, three generators must be on. In keeping with the great amount of system redundancy on the Hanjin there is even a 5th, smaller generator, in an entirely different location, that could handle basic ship requirements if the main generator room was out of service.
Bunkering. This term refers to refueling the ship with bunker and other grades of oil. Bunker fuel, as noted, is near the bottom of the petroleum food chain and comes in different grades and viscosities. The process goes as follows:
• The ship’s chief engineer notifies the Hanjin Company of the minimum tons of fuel required, when it will be needed, the requested grades, and the maximum amount of fuel that its tanks could accommodate.
• Hanjin checks fuel prices and availabilities and authorizes the quantity to purchase at a designated future port. Prices are an important factor in deciding where and when to fuel, and how much to take aboard.
• At the designated port a fuel barge comes alongside with pre-warmed fuel and hoses are connected to the ship. Before refueling an agent and ship crewman together check how much fuel is already in each of the designated tanks and how much is in the barge tank. Since there are no fuel gauges this capacity checking is done on the ship with the equivalent of a lead line dropped into the tanks and tables that convert measurements into capacities. A somewhat different process is done on the barge. Refueling begins and is governed both by tank / barge fuel measurements and the barge’s self-contained pumping capacity. Time is included since barge pumps have different capacities and if the capacity is low, e.g., 300 tons/hour (vs. a more normal rate of 600-900 tons/hour), more time is necessary for fueling. Apparently there is nothing similar to the pump meter that is our reference when refueling our cars. Before and after barge and ship tank measurements are necessary to ensure that the provider doesn’t under-provide and the ship over-receive.
• Samples of the barge fuel are taken and sent to a laboratory for analysis. Singapore is a common destination in Asia. The ship ‘quarantines’ the new fuel until the analysis report is received 4-5 days later, confirming that the fuel meets the desired specifications.
Fuel grade is important, among other reasons because it impacts the grade of oil used to lubricate the cylinder walls of the engine. In four-cycle engines oil is in the crankcase but as with the many two-cycle engines in outboards, lawnmowers, etc., oil is mixed with gasoline to provide lubrication. In the huge two-cycle ship engines such mixing would not work so a special lubricating oil is injected through small holes in the cylinder lining and then burned along with the bunker oil injected through the three injection nozzles at the top of the cylinder. Apparently different grades of bunker fuel requires different grades of lubricating oil, hence the importance of making sure that the oil dealer provided what was ordered so that the lubricating oil can be adjusted appropriately. Occasionally a more detailed and quite lengthy chemical analysis must be done and we heard of major engine problems that resulted from improper fuel specs. As we listened to the details the story become increasingly complicated, with each set of questions resulting in yet more variables to factor into the equation. But, if you made it this far, you get the message.
One other problem is sludge! Sludge is mud, or residual oil. Residual oil, what is left over after the refining process, contains large shares of the heaviest components of crude oil, including metals, and are known as “catfines.” These are highly abrasive and if left in the fuel oil fed to the engine they would soon result in fatal damage. To remove these catfines, water and other impurities the bunker fuel goes through a shipboard process that involves heating, settling, filtration and centrifuges that leads to their separation. Suffice to say the resulting sludge, many tons of it, is a disposal problem. Up until the 1970s hundreds of thousands of tons of sludge were pumped overboard at sea, a big and toxic mess. With increasing attention to the environment, international regulations and the reality that sludge has value as a replacement fuel in land-based power plants in low income countries, sludge is now sold or disposed of by certified companies.
Containers
Cargo and cargo handling. Carrying cargo is the ship’s only reason for existence. Container boxes were introduced in the early 1950s by an American trucker and the idea extended to ships in 1956 with a 58-box cargo from Newark to Houston. The idea caught on big time and now over 150 million boxes are moved annually worldwide on the long routes and many more on coastal and short routes. The total number of container slots on all ships exceeds 11 million and NSB manages ships carrying a substantial share of them. Much of the loaded box traffic is from Asia to Europe and N. America, and much of box filled-with-air traffic is back the other way. A typical 20' box can carry 5200 pairs of flip flops, will weigh 13 tons, and has a sea freight cost of ~ 0.32/pair. At the higher end a 20' box of DVD players can carry 520 units, weigh 2 tons, and have a sea freight cost ~ 3.3/unit. In the reverse direction sending 26,600 bottles of California wine in a box weighing 20 tons can sell for ~ 200,000 or ~ 0.06/bottle for freight. The CO2 emissions per kilo by sea freight is 1/40th of that by air freight and the transport cost much lower. In the transport of these boxes we were very impressed, and at times bewildered, at all that must be taken into account.
Cargo capacity. As noted, our maximum capacity is 7471 TEUs, with most being of the 40' variety (a 40' box is 2 TEUs). There are two banks of reefers in two sections forward of the living/navigating unit, and up to nine units below deck and seven above deck. The stacking height of the units tapers somewhat toward the bow to ensure that the helmsman at the bridge can see the water 500 meters ahead. There is no bow lookout, even when entering and leaving ports or in fog; the lookout function is handled by one or more of the three high-end radars.
A typical 40' unit weighs just under 4 tons empty and depending on box certification, up to 32 tons fully loaded; actual weight depends on the contents. Newer boxes are built to sustain over 200 tons on top of them without being crushed, an important consideration. The first two rows of the above deck boxes are held in place by diagonal turnbuckle bars linked to the ship, lateral units in the third row have a long stabilizer bar, and each of the upper rows is locked individually to the row below. The twistlock mechanism is a separate unit, weighing ~15 pounds with various projections and measures about 7" across. It is impressively simple and effective. One variant of the twistlock anchors the bottom box to the ship. It is locked and unlocked manually. Subsequent boxes are lowered down, one on top of another, with a different twistlock variant projecting downward from its four corners. The elliptical projection is convex on two faces and concave on two faces such than when inserted into the slots at the top four corners of box below the lock mechanism rotates and the two boxes are automatically locked together. The twistlock mechanism is similar to that used with laptop computer cable locks; the lock tip is inserted into a slot and then rotated close to 90 degrees so that it can’t be removed. To unload a box, a stevedore will pull one of the projecting yellow knobs. This unlocks the twist-lock, readying the container for the gantry to hoist it ashore. The lock devices are then removed by the stevedores, stored, and ready for future use. On the west-bound trip many of the units are empty since the US exports much less to Asia than vice versa.
Cargo loading and distribution. Loading is a complicated and demanding process. Our ship will visit seven ports in its route around the Pacific. It costs time and money if boxes for the next port are under boxes for a later port; the latter boxes must be off-loaded, then the target boxes off-loaded, and lastly the latter port boxes re-loaded. If one must burrow down below the large hatch covers the cost is even greater since they must be removed and a place found for them while the boxes are removed.
Compounding this problem are weight distribution considerations. The rear of the ship normally lies low due to the weight of the engine and propeller. The rest of the cargo must be distributed carefully to keep the heavier units low in the ship (to avoid exaggerating the roll during heavy seas) and the weight distributed evenly along its 1000' length. The ship is so long that even with good loading you can apparently see the ship bend in a heavy sea. If the load is not distributed evenly, excessive strains are imposed on the hull, including both fore-aft bending and twisting. A Hanjin office in Florida provides the ship with information about box weight, destination and whether or not it contains hazardous goods (which are generally chemicals), and suggests loading placement for the new boxes. These suggestions may not adequately account for the existing load distribution and other considerations so the chief mate bears final responsibility for checking and rearranging box locations as necessary to ensure a safe voyage. We spent significant time reviewing the detailed loading specifications and graphs; the mate’s task is daunting and demanding. Among others, is calculating for each trip leg the draft (i.e., depth in the water) at the bow and stern at the departure and arrival ports. Leaving Shanghai I noted on the bridge’s bulletin board that we would be 0.2 M lower leaving port than when we arrived a day later at Kwangyang, S. Korea. I assumed this would be due to burning off almost 200 tons of fuel but the mate said “no,” it was due to the greater salinity of the Korean port. Salt water is heavier than fresh and with the large flow of the Yangtze River emptying into the port of Shanghai, the ship rides a bit lower in the water than in the sea water port of Kwangyang.
An important indicator of stability is the “GM” value, calculated at every departure. This value, expressed in meters up from a base point, takes into account in ways not precisely understood by me, the center of rotation of the ship considering its loading. A value of 1.5 would be optimum but seldom attained, a value in the mid-teens would not be desirable and would reflect excessive stability and a tendency to abrupt roll reversals, and hence strain on the boxes. On leaving Shanghai we were at 4.5, an OK value.
Maintaining good ship ‘trim.’ Our ship is at least partially double hulled even though it is not a tanker. Under the cargo hold and partway up the lateral sides are large fuel and water ballast tanks. The tanks may be only several meters deep but given the size of the ship they can carry 25,000+ tons of liquid. As fuel is consumed its distribution must be adjusted along with further adjustments in the water ballast tanks. This is especially important if the ship is light, as in our west-bound trip, or anticipates heavy weather. When salt water is taken on in Asia to adjust ship trim this water must be pumped out at 24 miles off the US coast and replaced with local water as part of the effort to reduce the introduction of exotic species into North America.
Stevedores. We heard quite some tales, and complaints, about ‘stevedoring’ the cargo around. The land-based stevedores are apparently more productive in Asia, especially in China, than in the US. Leaner crews, more tons handled per stevedore, and more flexible contract rules. US labor contracts can prohibit any work beyond the stated time limit, even with overtime. If any containers, even one, remain to be moved after the appointed hour, it could be tough luck; either leave them in place or wait another day in port. Some labor contract clauses prohibit ship crew from installing the final turnbuckle tie-downs to the containers. Thus if the last container makes it on board just when the ‘whistle’ blows, the stevedores leave and the ship must either wait in harbor or set sail with unfastened containers. As a curious, small “N” observation, female stevedore supervisors in the US seem to do a better job of keeping the work on track, with minimum conflicts, than do male supervisors.
Managing liquids and trim. In several places I’ve mentioned the complexity of managing the ship’s load and consequent trim. The large wall diagram of tank locations and capacities, along with a bulletin board that indicates tank management tasks ahead, gave ample evidence of the challenge. Every tank has to have an inlet and outlet, a method for determining current capacity, and pumps of diverse sizes to transfer liquids either to their final destination and/or to other tanks. Here’s the tank list and their capacities:
30 ballast water tanks, 24,140 tons
16 fuel oil tanks, 10,200 tons
4 diesel fuel tanks, 502 tons
7 lubricating oil tanks, 610 tons
2 fresh water tanks, 594 tons
11 other tanks, 1031 tons
70 tanks in all with 37,077 tons of capacity
We watched the bunkering process in Long Beach; it is problem enough just filling the fuel oil tanks!
Life on board. Our accommodations are very comfortable and reasonably spacious. We have the “Owner’s Cabin,” though the ship owner never uses it. Our cabin, along with the cabin designated for the Owner’s Representative, are really designed for passenger use. We are on the “F” deck, six decks above the main deck and two below the bridge. We have three large portholes to starboard and two looking forward in the “day room” (~250 sq. ft) and one looking forward in the bedroom (~125 sq. ft). At ~70' (and 85 well-trod steps) above the main deck we have a clear view forward; one deck lower runs the risk of having the forward view blocked by boxes. Engine noise is well muffled and propeller vibrations muted so our only sound is of soft air flow from the air conditioning / ventilation system. From our vantage point the day room has a full length couch, three chairs, a desk and table, a hi fi/CD/DVD player and a TV/DVD set. The bedroom has a double bed and a desk, chair, small table and plenty of storage room. The bathroom is well appointed and with the ship able to produce up to 50 tons of fresh water daily, we have no water restrictions. (On our 1984 cross-Pacific sailboat trip to New Zealand we carried 100 gallons of freshwater and no ability to make more. Four of us used only 66 gallons during the three-week leg from Seattle to Hawaii.
Our basic routine while at sea is simple, informative and productive. Up around 7 AM ship’s time, shower and computer time until breakfast at 7:30. After breakfast Liz checks our position with our small GPS, an amazing capability. We soon learned that it is best to stick a hand out around the corner of our outside deck to check for wind speed; with a headwind for 20-30 knots, our own speed of 20+ knots, and wind boost coming up from the hull, we can get quite a blast when rounding the corner. The morning is spent on computer work with occasional interruptions for reading or strolling until lunch at noon. After lunch, more computer and reading until mid-afternoon, followed by two- to five-circuits around the ship (at 2100' a circuit), exercises in our day room, often a visit to the bridge, and then supper at 5:30.
Our afternoon circuits around the ship were always enjoyable. We descend six flights on the starboard side to the main deck, below the two 42-person all-enclosed life boats and the emergency muster deck. Though our stroll is on a single vessel each section has its own personality. We start our trip walking forward, ~40' above a broad wake of foam and under a high stack of containers. Our destination: a small glimmer of light at the end of a near 1000' tunnel. First comes the noise of the reefer air conditioners, just forward of our narrow accommodations unit. Next, a broad and relatively quiet mid-ship section, the only noises being the metallic squeaks and groans that come from containers subject to the small bending and twisting movements of the ship. We then pass through another noisy reefer area followed by the crashing sea noise of the main bow wave. About 150' aft of the bow is the point where the tapered bow swells out to the width of the ship and the bow wave reaches full size, splashing out some 50' to the side, fulsome testimony to the power of the ~50,000 horsepower to drive the hull forward at 20 knots. We then pass a noisy cargo hold ventilator fan and climb up a deck to the quiet and calm of the bow, just forward of the containers. The bow section has two massive anchor windlasses and six dockline winches with 4" diameter lines for tying up at port. At >900' away from the engine and propeller the bow has no vibrations and if we stand just a tad back of the forward deckplate, essentially no noise or wind. We are in another world with no sense of motion except as we look at the ocean streaming past. Looking down at the very tip of the bow we see the bulbous nose leading us on, normally just below the surface of the water. These bulbs, near universal on newer vessels of 50' or more, reduce by a few percent the power requirements to maintain a given speed. Even in calm seas there is a slight pitching motion to the ship and as it rises, the bulb generates a huge amount of turbulence before it again returns to below sea level.
Reversing course we descend the port bow steps and head aft, repeating all the sections until we come to the last 100' of the ship. Noise and vibrations increase substantially and soon we are standing at the stern, right above the corkscrew swirls of the propeller and broad 250' wake of foam. At times we descend a deck to the six winches for decklines, the bosun’s lockers and the makeshift basketball court, with a single basket forward and, for obvious reasons, none aft.
In our daily activities, and with the sole exception when we boarded the ship in Oakland, we have managed to avoid the ship’s elevator. We are thus assured of at least 25 flights of stair-climbing a day, and sometimes a lot more.
During our ocean voyage we also swam in the pool, made visits to the engine room (most impressive!), ship’s infirmary, galley, and other nooks and crannies, and tended weekly to our laundry.
For most of our meals, four decks down, we are joined by the captain, chief mate, and at times, the chief engineer. Our discussions have been wide ranging and very enjoyable. We appreciated their willingness to be bombarded by innumerable questions, to spend most of their mealtime in English, and for the mutual exchanges about affairs of the world and of tales about travels, close calls, exploits and families. Their English is excellent, the ship’s official language, but we are all too aware that if we were not there they would be conversing, and sharing jokes, in German.
We noted the clear hierarchy maintained aboard ship, also commented upon by other freighter cruise travelers. For the most part officers seem to address each other by their title, not name, and the captain’s table in the dining room is only available to the captain, chief engineer, chief mate, and passengers. While at first glance this seems contrary to the informality of much of American life it does have a long-established rationale throughout history. In a complex enterprise, whether on board ship, an airplane, a hospital, or most especially in the military, a command structure is necessary and decisions from above must be followed promptly and without question. Accordingly, these systems incorporate various ways to remind all participants of rank and authority. These include distinctive uniforms, different quality food, separate dining arrangements, better accommodations, other privileges, and, of course, use of titles rather than names. (In our case and when at sea only the steward has a ‘uniform,’ a white jacket; everyone else is in very informal, your-own-choice attire.) Coming from our current perspective of retirees now external of any such system the formality seems a bit strange, but recalling our earlier years as a novice in a convent, a student in a medical school, intern in a hospital or a new academic in a university, it isn’t all that surprising.
During the evening it is more reading, both silently and to each other, computer work, and often, an hour of viewing a segment of BBC’s “Blue Planet”. Our book for reading to each other is “Not One Drop: Betrayal and Courage in the Wake of the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill,” by longtime friend Riki Ott, on the travails of Cordova, Alaska, following the 1989 spill. A great read, a very sad, angering tale made all the more vivid by last June’s nine-day sea kayak trip in Prince William Sound and subsequent two-day visit to Cordova, with Riki as our guide. Oil and pipeline company post-spill behaviors were totally reprehensible and unconscionable; it is hard to believe how any ethical executive could have behaved so badly. Regarding the Blue Planet, for those who haven’t seen this series featuring different regions of the ocean it is truly spectacular. The photography is amazing and the exotic sea creatures introduce us to a little known part of the world. At 10 PM ship’s time we hit the hay, though for eight days west-bound we set watches back one hour at bed-time and ahead one hour on the east-bound trip. Thus 8-9 hours of sleep going west, and less going east.
Oakland to Busan (S. Korea, 12 days, 5170 nautical miles, and the ship’s 41st crossing westbound). We arrived by taxi to the Oakland terminal at 5:30 PM for a planned 6 PM ship arrival. The ship came an hour later and we boarded about 8:30, thus providing us a three-hour opportunity to observe, outside the terminal gate and sitting on our luggage, the comings and goings of the stevedores. Interesting people-watching but no we have no need to repeat the experience. We were up early for our 6 AM departure on July 20th; clear weather followed by fog under the Golden Gate Bridge. Our crossing the Pacific “pond” to Pusan went well, arching north to just below the Aleutians to follow a great circle route. The original plan was to pierce the Aleutians near the base of Alaska and then again going south near the end of the islands but a low pressure system to the north led the captain to choose a somewhat more southerly route. We had clouds all the way but a reasonably calm sea.
We were delighted to be invited to the bridge at times of entering and leaving port. Our first experience was from 9 to 11 PM, entering Pusan. We picked up the pilot at 10 PM, slowing to 10 knots so the pilot vessel could come up on our lee, downwind side. Up on the bridge all was dark, with low level lighting on the large radar and chart plotter screens. The pilot would give his steering and speed commands, these would be repeated by the helmsman (or engine room), and on occasion the captain would raise polite questions or modify the commands slightly. The pilots are generalists in all kinds of ships and specialists in none so may not be aware of the maneuvering characteristics of the specific ship now under command. The captain retains final authority and we were advised that at times pilot performance can be rather questionable. Our pilot on this first port (and indeed all subsequent pilots) was very professional, conversation was solely focused on operations, and 4-5 persons were on the bridge. One crew member had the job of going back and forth from the darkened portion of the bridge, where night vision was essential. to the chart table where the harbor charts were displayed under light. It reminded me of the so-called “dirty” nurse in an OR who is not in sterile gown and gloves and hence can fetch new supplies and equipment. As a side note, the infamous Cosco Busan that collided with the San Francisco Bay Bridge, had been owned by the Conti company but was sold two weeks prior to the incident. Apparently there was a short period when there was legal uncertainty as to whether all the relevant documents had been duly processed and if not, then the potential liability of Conti for the damage. With US authorities holding the hapless American pilot primarily responsible for the collision a new chapter in maritime law may be in the making. Up to that time the ship’s captain (and his employer and/or ship owner) is always the responsible party.
A short time later we picked up a tug on our port quarter and proceeded dead slow at 4-5 knots into the brightly lit harbor. We gradually rotated ~130 degrees at which point the tug pushed the stern toward the dock while the bowthruster pushed the bow. The last few meters went very slow since we were trying to compress the water, caught between the 1000' ship and the dock, the water was slow in moving out at ends and underneath the hull.
Watching the unloading / unloading was fascinating. The dockyard is huge, probably several miles long and close to a mile deep, filled to the gills with containers and the large yellow cranes that move back and forth on rails. The yellow storage yard cranes were small potatoes, however, compared to the dockside gantry cranes, rated at up to 100-ton capacity. The operators, higher than our ship, zip back and forth in their glass modules raising, lowering and positioning the containers. It takes a short 90 seconds to make the 400' round trip from lifting a box off a truck, depositing the box in the cargo hold, and back to lifting the next box off a truck. The operators were masters at multitasking – concurrently moving laterally and up or down, stopping/starting at precisely the proper location to insert their lifting unit into the lifting slots or to put the box on a flatbed trailer. The lifting unit could even attach and move two 20' boxes at the same time and also remove/replace the very heavy 40' x 40' hatch cover, inserting it precisely between a stack of boxes that surrounded the area on all four sides. We were informed that in some ports gantries can handle simultaneously two separate box lifters, with one operator controlling both; an extreme example of multitasking! They are apparently well compensated for their talents, with over $200K salaries in high income countries. Impressive coordination and speed but I wouldn’t want to be around when and if a box falls (reportedly almost never).
The port of Pusan (also spelled Busan) was impressive in size and in the variety of activities underway. At least three large dredges deepening the area; lots of barges, some underway with tugs; a large vehicle carrier; other container ships; a brand new oil drilling ship undergoing sea trials; a long pier and cable bridge under construction to an island; inter-island passenger ferries; 17 anchored ships several miles offshore attesting to the effects on trade of the global economic meltdown; several 1000' hills cut in half to increase port space and provide land fill; and lots of little boats shuttling back and forth. We understand the road bridge will drop down to the water and become a tunnel through the deepest channel, this to avoid the risk that if N. Korea invaded the south they could drop a central bridge span (where the tunnel will be) and thus bottle up much of the S. Korean navy. Interesting contingency planning!
Busan to Yantian (China, 3 days, 1151 miles). Three days of steaming south from Pusan we entered the bay off Yantian, a new port just north of Hong Kong. At ~7:30 PM we anchored in an assigned section of the external anchorage along with at least five other large ships and at 2 AM picked up a pilot for the short trip to the quay. Anchoring is an extended process (one clarification: a “shackle” here means about 90’ of chain, marked by red and white painted links): anchor down to just above the water; a long wait until the ship comes to a near standstill; a very loud rattle and roar as several shackle-lengths are dropped, a wait to let the chain settle out; then three more shackles of chain for a total of five “on deck”. Since we anchor in about 60’ of water with the windlass about 30’ above the waterline, we have a total of 4:1 ratio, depth to length. All sailors will recognize this as a good minimum “scope,” with the optimum in challenging conditions being about 7:1.
We slept through the trip to the quay but awoke to another huge cargo port. The cargo handling area measured perhaps five miles in an “L” shape and was up to half a mile deep, absolutely chock-a-block filled with containers of all colors and brands in multi-box stacks. Numerous mobile box movers shuttled around the storage area and flatbed trucks lining up to receive boxes filled our foreground. Our section had 60 gantry cranes and three ships being served; another section had at least 30 cranes and more ships. Behind the cargo areas were large apartment buildings and a parade of hills partially cut away to accommodate more projects and provide landfill. The whole port is quite new, constructed in 12 years. Hong Kong and Shanghai still have larger capacities but the recent need to add this port attests to the growing volume of trade between China and the rest of the world.
Our ship was served by six gantries and for the first time we could see below the hatch covers into the bottom of the hold, six boxes down. According to the loading chart we unloaded 1853 boxes weighing 8468 tons and loaded 787 boxes weighing 8367 tons for four destinations ending in Seattle. With an average weight per offloaded box of 4.6 tons and per loaded box of 10.6 tons we had carried empty boxes to Yantian. With a potential total of seven gantry cranes working, a conservative two minutes per 2-TEU 40' box per gantry (assuming that the ground crews had the trucks in place without delay; not so today), it would take ~18 hours to completely unload our 7500-TEU capacity, but that situation would be a rarity. Some cranes started loading boxes by late morning and our departure time is scheduled for 11 PM.
With encouragement from the captain and first mate we made our first short excursion, leaving the ship at 4:25 PM and returning just after 8. We were accompanied by three other crew members. The port shuttle bus took us via a long winding route through the mountains of boxes stacked six high to the gate where immigration officials tried to figure out which of the strange characters were our names, and then copy them onto their list. In town we were deposited at a large combination grocery, electronic and dry goods store next to a KFC emporium. Our driver, with very limited English, walked with us several blocks to a high-end restaurant and showed us the fish tanks where we could select our dinner. We couldn’t bear looking an exotic fish in the eye and condemning it to death so we selected the large prawns. Much linguistic struggle ensued trying to sort out how many, how much, how cooked and what accompanying vegetables and drinks. The first “price” was $90, to which we howled and finally after trimming quantities, we escaped at $70 and too much food remaining on the table. We were first in the restaurant at 5 PM but by the time we left, the joint was jumping. The next two hours were spent leisurely checking out the shops, resisting the entreaties of the many salespeople standing in the doorways, and sitting in a nice park people- and kiddy-watching. We made it back to the ship’s gangway at 8:20 for the steep 56-step climb up to the bottom deck. We hit the sack at 10 while they were still working the gantries. Loading was finished at midnight but the pilot arrived an hour late and we were underway at 1:06 AM.
Yantian to Kaohsiung (south end of Taiwan, one day, 334 miles). We awoke at 6 to pitching and rolling; not much compared to a small boat but a lot more than up to now. Strong wind off the starboard bow, swells, and occasional rain squalls. The ship was making 24 knots at 95 rpm, making up for lost time in Yantian. Great to know we are really on an ocean after the near mill pond crossings we’ve had up to now. At ~5 PM we picked up the pilot, picked our way through ~34 anchored ships (more evidence of the downturn in shipping), entered between two long projecting breakwaters, and into the several mile-long cargo port with over 100 berths and ~15 ships moored to the wharf. With the aid of our ~3500 h.p. bowthruster and tug we were neatly slotted into the Hanjin wharf between two large container ships, with only ~60' clearance at each end. Four gantries started their work and instead of flatbed trucks, 8-wheeled self-propelled lifts came in to pick up the boxes and trundle them off to a temporary resting place. The units were tired and soot-covered compared to previous ports but seemed to work well. Though slower than trucks they could stack the boxes up to three high without help from other equipment.
Armed with passports and temporary ‘seaman visas’ we descended the gangway and in the company of a pleasant lady ‘ship chandler’, went into town. She explained her role was to purchase and deliver to the wharf food and other provisions needed by ships when they came to harbor. She assured me that among the supplies were two kilos of raisins to keep me happy; I had quickly depleted the limited supply on board from our last provisioning at Oakland. We proceeded out through the large cargo yard by electric golf card, through the gate and police check, and by taxi and in the company of legions of scooters, to downtown and the new “Dream Mall.”
The Dream Mall was an experience! Huge, at least 9 stories high, multi-color radiating spokes of light emanating from a building that must have occupied several blocks, it was a shopper’s delight or debtor’s nightmare. Marble floors, classical music on a high quality sound system, and ‘carriage trade’ stores selling everything from museum pieces to designer clothes to fur coats (in this tropical climate, no less) on the lower levels. As we rose progressively higher via the escalators we passed through mid-price range stores until eventually, gasping for oxygen, we came to McDonalds, ToysRus, kiddie gear, and items for the budget-minded. But all was first rate, high class, and made for good people watching and window shopping. We managed to avoid any purchases (aided by the absence of local currency or language), and were whisked back at 9:15 by taxi right to the gangway of our nautical home. With only $20 bills available we left the driver happy with a single twenty for what was probably a $5-6 ride. Liz was able to call her niece, Lucy Hornby, who works as a Reuters correspondent in Beijing. Lucy was our first and likely only contact with family during this trip. After an hour of reading we hit the hay, with the gantries doing their box dance forward and aft.
Up at 6 AM and on the bridge at 6:30 to observe our departure in rain and light fog. With tug and thruster we turned 90 degrees mid-channel and headed out dead slow (4-5 knots) through the narrow entrance and the many anchored ships. The pilot descended the long gangway and made the difficult jump over to the pilot boat. This transition is difficult and a significant risk for pilots. The transfer is made at 8-10 knots, much easier when both boats are under way, but even so the asynchronous rolls and pitches of the two very unequal vessels, the lack of good handholds, and the threat of falling between the two boats, make for problems. It is challenging enough under good conditions but try making the transfer at night, in dense fog, with strong winds, big seas, and rain, snow and/or sleet, and you get the picture. As the pilots get on in years agility goes down and risks go up!
Within several hours of leaving port we were cruising along under clear skies with hardly a ripple on the seas. In the absence of wind we make our own ‘wind’ and depending on our location in the ship’s superstructure, either have no wind or we are practically blown off our feet. At our 20-knot cruising speed we are guaranteed a brisk wind in open locations.
Having left many empty boxes in port we are now quite light, riding high in the water and with at least eight hatch covers totally exposed, including the aft ‘basketball’ court. The first mate loaded a compensatory 6800 tons of water ballast (each pump transfers 900 tons/hour) but the lack of much weight above the hatches results in a bottom-heavy ship and a faster, more abrupt roll rate. The ship is designed to carry a lot of above hatch weight (its cargo payload) and this slows down the roll rate. A slower roll rate produces less strain on box lashings and is definitely better in stormy seas. Also, as a result of our light weight we can sense propeller thrust in tune with our 84 rpm, not so apparent when we have a mountain of boxes before us. All this will change when we load more boxes in Shanghai.
We watched another section of the Blue Planet series in the evening and enjoyed our starboard cabin overlooking silvery seas lit up by a near full moon.
Kaohsiung to Shanghai (China, 2 days, 651 miles). At sea until about 11 AM when we dropped the anchor, well off from Shanghai and out of sight of land. Anchoring in a seaway leads to significant rocking and rolling, interspersed with occasional sharp and strong shudders (think of a Richter 5 earthquake!) as a rising wave hits the descending broad upturned stern. Additional excitement: typhoon “Morakot” is afoot in the S. China Sea and headed NNE, somewhat our way. With winds to 80 knots, a central low of 970 mb (1012 is ‘normal’), and a radius of 300 kms of substantial winds, it is something to keep in mind. The ship receives all the latest weather reports with graphic displays showing wind speed, direction, wave heights (30-40' at the center), and predicted direction complete with probabilities over the next several days. So far, no problem, but if the typhoon veered further north we’d likely have to pour on the coal, correction, oil, and head to sea. With a speed up to 25 knots we can out-run most weather though this necessity would really foul up our schedule. Neither the ship’s crew nor the port captain would like to have large ships in port in a typhoon; the dock areas could soon be become shambles and some of the ships sunk or damaged colliding with others. (A memory: Years ago, when consulting in Manila, a typhoon passed right over my hotel. I spent two hours wringing out towels put along my leaky window sills as the wind blew from left to right, 20 minutes enjoying the calm “eye” of the storm, and then two hours of more towels while the wind blew from right to left. When I went out to survey the damage, 6" of water in the streets and 11 cargo ships high and dry on the beach. Beware of typhoons!)
Liz and I started our afternoon “constitutional”, walking around the deck while still in the anchored, rock and roll mode. On coming to the bow we found the second mate, bosun and an AB starting to raise the anchor. We stayed for the next half hour watching the full process, slow, complicated and challenging. Though the wind was fairly strong the ship lay almost crosswise to the wind. The anchor windlass is driven by a powerful electric motor but if subject to an excessive and prolonged strain, it can go kaput. As the mate explained, this would be the end of his job. Accordingly, the ship had to intermittently use its main engine to ease the strain on the chain and use the bowthruster to swing our position more into the wind. All the time the AB kept a high powered fire hose stream of water on the anchor chain to remove mud. The bosun, responding to hand signals from the mate, would operate the windlass for a few minutes and then stop for a bit to allow the windlass motor to cool and the ship to re-position itself. To pull in our five shackles (~450') of chain, took over 30 minutes. At full speed the windlass can bring in <20' of chain in a minute. At an “aha” moment I suddenly saw the analogy between anchoring and sex. Lowering the anchor is easy, fast, few skills are required, and it is accompanied by much noise, commotion and vibrations. Raising the anchor is a slow, risky process that requires care, skills and patience, a perfect mirror to the ease of having sex and the challenge of bearing then bringing up the child. After the anchor was secure we continued our circuits, completing about 7000' of walking and the ship proceeded to the pilot pickup point, 60 miles from Shanghai.
After a quick supper we went to the bridge for the entrance to Shanghai. Two pilots (one was an apprentice) were on board for the long and tortuous trip to the harbor. We proceeded at reduced speed into the increasing gloom of a smoggy evening to enter what our captain characterized is a mariner’s nightmare. Ships all around (I counted at least 50 under way at 10 PM), by now dark, and the flood tide moving fast. The entrance to the Yangtze River, one of the largest in China, is a major maritime highway. With huge amounts of silt coming down from the interior the river is totally brown and in need of constant dredging. The channel is miles long, narrow (~1000' wide for both in- and out-bound traffic), and is marked with red and green lights, each with its own ID code. The channel ‘guarantees’ a depth of only 10+ meters and since in our light condition we were drawing almost this amount, we went in on the flood tide. Traffic tonight was relatively light and we had no close calls but we were told this was the exception. With the aid of a tug and bowthruster we reversed direction and then with our bow angled about 15o toward the quay and intermittent engine help, we maintained our position relative to shore while going sideways. As a former whitewater canoeist I immediately recalled doing the same in rivers, the so-called “upstream ferry.” By keeping the bow of my canoe angled toward shore, and paddling against the oncoming water, I could easily go from one side of the river to the other.
By 11:15 we were moored to the quay, the gantries started getting into position, and Liz and I hit the sack.
Shanghai to Kwangyang (S. Korea, 2 days, 444 miles). With four gantries operating all night and morning we dropped our lines in Shanghai at 11 AM and with the aid of tug and bowthruster, eased out into the melee. What a yellow, silt-laden river, and for at least 100 miles out! We were advised that the ship was loath to take on any ballast water lest the silt and sand settle in the tanks, never again to be pumped overboard. Out on the bridge-wing and with a 360 degree look-around I was able to count at least 136 boats underway at the same time – all sizes, shapes, cargos and conditions, plus many more moored or at anchor. They seemed to be traveling in almost as many different directions, too. After a 60-mile trip out through all the traffic we left the pilot off at a large pilot ship with overnight accommodations and better able to withstand bad weather than the more usual small vessels. Our departure from Shanghai was just in time; hours later they totally closed the port, in or out, in anticipation of the strong typhoon then spinning up from the Taiwan area. If we had been caught by the closure it would have wreaked havoc with our schedule and the captain would have acquired an ulcer and/or grey hairs. But, out we were, headed north and east, away from trouble, at a high speed of 24 knots to make up for some lost time in Shanghai.
The wind during the afternoon and evening was from dead ahead at ~25 knots so the over-the-deck wind speed was an impressive 55 knots. As noted earlier, in windy conditions at sea Liz and I now put our hand out first before rounding a corner to test the wind force. At 55 knots it can hit the full body with quite some force.
As the afternoon advanced the swells got larger and the roll increased. We started our 4 PM stroll around the deck but after a few wind blasts and rolls, retreated to our cabin. During the evening the roll finally got to the point where most everything ended up on the floor (including some 20 loose grapes that whizzed back and forth), Liz was knocked out of her chair, and we battened down all the chairs with their safety straps. The chief mate later reported that the biggest roll was ~20 degrees, not a big deal by sailboat standards but with our location 100+ feet above the water, the swing is magnified and makes for ‘interesting’ walking patterns. One moment you feel light as a feather speeding downhill and the next, carrying a heavy load (yourself) up hill. And if following Liz while walking the deck, for some not too mysterious reason we both move simultaneously to the left and to the right, as if in perfect coordinated step. We learned later that a minor course change was made to ease the rolls.
We awaken to calm seas and proceed expeditiously to the entrance to the port of Kwangyang. This is a lovely location, a deep indentation near the southern tip of Korea, with steep hills all around. We pick up the pilot and proceed at 15 knots until near the tanker terminal. We watch a mammoth tanker being eased into the terminal by five tugs. It is 100' longer than we are and sits 30' lower (~60' draft). Further in we pass a huge steel mill, perhaps the largest in Asia, that processes both iron ore and scrap iron. Several bulk ore carriers are being unloaded and large piles of scrap iron await their turn at the smelters. Next we pass a very large building that can accommodate a medium-sized ship for the loading and unloading of wood chips and other products that cannot risk exposure to rain. At last our container terminal, followed a bit further inland by the car ship terminal and long lines of cars awaiting loading. By 11:30 we are tied up and ready for the gantry cranes to do their work.
Our stay here was short and with little to see in the city, we stay aboard. Curiously, even though no one wants or needs to go ashore, a nice lady came on board, the entire crew and passengers are summoned, and we all lined up to have our temperature taken. The lady touched a heat sensor to our foreheads for several seconds; no pain and no high temps. We all passed but woe be if anyone had a fever. S. Korea apparently is concerned about swine flu and since a single elevated temperature tells you nothing about the cause, they might have to quarantine or expel the ship, including I presume the nice Korean lady. If she had detected a fever she would now be ‘exposed’ and hence obliged to stay with us. Though I’m in the fields of medicine and public health the mysteries of effective disease transmission procedures can still baffle me.
Since we have only a small amount of cargo to load the gantries don’t start their work for more than an hour and soon we are ready to depart. A tug gives us an assist, we turn around and within an hour are out to sea. This is clearly an industrial town what with the iron foundry, huge tank farm and terminal, a large and diverse port facility, and many clustered high-rise apartment buildings for those who work here. Perhaps the ultimate ignominy is the lack of any entry on the city in the South Korea guidebook but its omission notwithstanding, the port is among the most scenic we have visited.
Kwangyang to Busan (S. Korea, half-day, 105 miles). We awoke at the dock in Pusan, spelled with a “P” in many maps but with a “B” in the actual city. The captain, ever attentive to our interests in a shore excursion, arranged for Hanjin’s Busan agent, Mr. S.I. Shin, to pick us up at 9 a.m. for the 50-minute drive to the center of town. The first half of the trip we passed through extensive new port, housing, bridge and highway projects, interspersed with paddies and then leading into the usual big city traffic and shops. We were dropped near the fish market alongside the inner harbor and were fascinated by the huge variety of live and dead fish on display. Most were varieties we had never seen before and included octupii climbing out of their tubs, eels of various lengths, and silvery fish hardly bigger than elongated peanuts. There were many lunchrooms with dining tables inserted between fish tanks and where customers could pick out the live fish of their choice for their delectation. The large volume of fish on display made us wonder how the market could “clear” by the end of the day without a lot of fish left over. The market was adjacent to the wharf and we returned to our starting point by checking out the rust-bucket ships moored alongside. Their condition was in very sharp contrast to the excellent physical and very clean condition of the Hanjin Boston. Most were 80-100' trawlers with huge scoops at the stern that were dragged along the ocean bottom, scraping up everything, desired and undesired, into nets, and in the process destroying the natural underwater architecture. We had viewed several nights before a segment on the “Blue Planet” DVD about the effects of trawling and they are not pretty.
After leaving the fish market we wandered through the narrow, winding streets, most stores open on Sunday, and up toward Tower Hill, a lovely park overlooking the city and capped – big surprise! - with a tower at the top. On the way up we happened on the Busan Modern History Museum and spent an informative hour viewing several floors of attractive exhibits. It covered Busan’s history since the early 1800s and most of the displays had explanations in English as well as Korean. The one overpowering impression was that of a city and people who had no kind things to say about the Japanese. Nearly every display recounted the effects of the Japanese occupation, turning Korea into a vassal land available for exploitation. Korea was expected to provide low cost rice and other agricultural products to Japan (by paying very little to Korean tenant farmers) and in return, import Japanese manufactured products. Japanese farmers were sent to Korea and took over the best lands, Korean manufactures were discouraged, Japanese administrators rode roughshod over the locals. During WW II, Korea supplied products to help the Japanese war effort, men for Japan’s army, and women for the pleasure of Japanese soldiers. I would not have liked to be a Japanese visitor to the museum.
We topped the hill, took pictures and then back down in time to meet Mr. Shin at 1 PM for the trip to the ship. Back on board we met the new first mate, Dennis Bachmann, who is replacing Alexander Herold, who heads home to Germany after his five-month tour on board. We also were glad to meet and become acquainted with Steve Thenell, a new passenger who will join us on a one-way trip to Long Beach. He had just finished five years of teaching English in two Japanese high schools.
We left precisely at 3 PM and were soon out of the harbor for our last long trip across the Pacific. By latter afternoon the wind had picked up to Beaufort Force Six (22-27 knots), with numerous whitecaps, and though the seas were building they came from nearly straight ahead and hence caused little roll. Liz and I read more of the travails of Cordova and Riki in the post-Exxon Valdez spill and then an hour of DVD on diving with sharks off Cocos Island.
Busan to Long Beach (11 days; 5507 miles, the ship’s 42nd crossing eastbound). We climbed to the bridge as usual for our departure from Pusan. The number of boxes loaded was not very great. Shortly after leaving the breakwater we dropped the pilot and soon land was out of sight for the long trip back. The first few days provided the usual cloud cover and a fair amount of dense fog but then we were blessed with several days of clear skies and bright sunshine. We took our chairs out on the deck, donned shades, applied sun screen, and enjoyed our low cost, limited amenity cruise ship. Standard weather for the North Pacific in summer is clouds and quite a bit of fog so this treat was unusual. The captain further blessed us by noting a pod of whales and we zoomed up to the bridge to admire the spouts, again an unusual sighting. On other days we saw small groups of tuna sprinting away from the ship and an occasional seabird soaring the waves. For the most part we observed our standard routine; laptop work in the mornings (Liz got lots of help troubleshooting her use of DreamWeaver to upgrade our www.bikenfly.org website) from Steve, our new passenger); reading, exercises and around-the-ship strolls in the afternoons; and post-supper reading Riki Ott’s book to each other, Liz’s crossword puzzles, Tom’s Univ. of Michigan iTouch physics lessons, and perhaps a DVD. We visited the bridge several times a day and the chief engineer gave us another very informative trip through the many sections of the engine room, including side-trips to the totally enclosed under-deck passageway that circles the entire ship, the access door for the pilot, and the four big electric steering motors that drive four hydraulic pistons. In normal cruising only one steering motor is necessary and in harbors two motors are used in case one should fail. It is good to have this redundancy since given the size of the steering column and rudder there is no way to provide manual backup.
August 13, on the Asian side of the dateline at 179.56" degrees East, and all three of us are on the bridge watching and filming the GPS as it flips over to 179.57 degrees West. We are south of the mid-Aleutian island chain at about 49.41 degrees north, near the Vancouver, Canada, level. And now for another August 13 as we cross the dateline.
August 14, my 78th birthday, and completion of another circuit of the sun for me. A day of moderate wind and gradually increasing rolling, though nothing significant. Well wishes from the crew and a lovely present of a photo of our ship and signatures from all the crew.
August 15, 48.27 north (Seattle latitude) and 158.12 west, below the start of the Aleutians. We are now in a low pressure area, wind is in the 30-knot range, seas 9-12', lots of rain, and moderate rolling on a 20-second cycle. Better weather ahead.
On August 17, a clear blue and white day with a light 12-knot breeze and no white caps or swells. The engine was shut off a 8 AM for about 10 hours since we were ahead of schedule for our Long Beach arrival. Curiously, the engine cannot be slowed for an extended period of time below its normal cruise rate of 84 rpm. This is frustrating for both the captain and the charterer but the engine manufacturer is very clear; you risk major damage at, say, 70 rpm maintained over many hours. The charterer has an exacting schedule with promises to shippers that if their goods are in the port by a specific time, they will be picked up the next day. Thus it is good to build into the schedule some extra time in case the ship is slowed by weather or a route deviation. But with an engine that is happy with only one speed, periodic drifting can be the result. Today we are drifting at 0.7 knots to the SE and lo and behold, when Liz checked after the ship’s engine was re-started, we had drifted 7 miles in about 10 hours.
I visited the bridge at midnight. After my eyes were dark-adjusted I went to the bridge-wing and enjoyed the wonderful world of stars. On our 1984 Seattle-to-New Zealand sailing trip Liz and I had at least 50 nights each of night watch under a star-filled sky but we have rarely had a chance to revel in this wonder ever since. In Alaska the summer nights never get dark, and in San Francisco, no way; light pollution, cloud and fog cover.
August 18, Winds to 30 knots from the north while we head east; result, lots of white caps and moderate rolling. A good day to make progress on our laptop projects and in the afternoon, lots of fun doing our daily deck walk. When the wind is up we spend most time on the lee side but enjoy venturing out to the windy areas on the bow and open stern. Our wake to windward leads to peaked waves with foam blowing off the tops and astern we see the heaves of sea swells in our wake.
August 19, cloudy, hazy and calm. Entering US ports requires additional measures, all carefully noted in the ship’s log book and in some cases, by automatic printer. At 10:30 AM we were invited to the bridge to participate in the “preparation for entering America waters” experience. The previous day a repeat stowaway (and bomb) search was carried out, first one having been carried out on departure from Pusan, and the ship exchanged Asian ballast water with ‘fresh’ North American water to minimize the transport of exotic marine life. Today, now some 80 miles from the N. California coast, we did the “loss of steering gear trial,” “demonstration of bridge-wing controls,” and “demonstration of reverse propulsion.” The steering gear has four large electric motors driving as many pistons, only one of which is sufficient for normal steering. With the chief engineer and others down in the aft steering gear room the command link from the bridge was disconnected and those by the motors demonstrated their ability to independently steer. Our snake-like course was duly observed behind and recorded on the chart plotter. Meanwhile the engine was slowed down very gradually from 84 to 65 rpm to avoid damage, after which engine rpms can be dropped more quickly. It took almost 30 minutes to drop from 20 to 5 knots, at which point the engine was stopped, restarted in reverse, and in five more minutes we were dead in the water. Engine speeds were all recorded automatically at short intervals, good evidence if requested by port authorities. Lastly, the effects of the bridge-wing engine and steering controls were demonstrated and logged. A bulk carrier, several miles away, probably also doing its pre-USA ‘ritual,’ radioed us to learn of our intentions. As a result of our tests we had varied our direction and speed and were now heading in their direction.
August 20, up at 4:35 AM, on the bridge shortly thereafter in time to see the pilot aboard. We stayed on the bridge until 6:30 docking, and then down to the ship’s office to clear immigration and customs (at least six officials were there). All the crew were checked, one by one, and then the three of us passengers. Brief questions, a glace at our passport (held in safe keeping by the captain), and then to breakfast. We were told to empty our pockets (which we did) and put the contents on the floor (which we didn’t), but otherwise no search was made of us. However, by norm a search is made of the cabins of several of the crew, chosen at random, so off went the bosun and some others with blue-gloved officials in tow to see what they had on board. By the nature of their job the immigration/customs officials are expected to be suspicious of everyone, and perhaps more so of those who don’t look suspicious. This in turn leads us, crew and passengers, to feel rather nervous, and almost guilty, even when there is no justification for such feelings. An unhappy consequence of managing borders and people.
A fuel barge was ushered along our seaboard side by two tugs. We watched as the barge crew fitted an extension on the very large diameter hose so that it could be hoisted up about 60' to the location of eight different liquid connections. Two cranes did the lifting, one on the barge, the other on the ship, and then the hose was connected, complete with a new gasket, to the ship. The chief engineer later reported that he was unhappy with the relatively slow transfer rate of ‘only’ 600 tons of oil per hour vs. a hose capacity of 900 tons. With a total tank capacity of 10,200 tons, fill ups at the pump can take some time.
At noon we were surprised to hear two American voices in the lunch room. Inspectors from Lloyds (in Germany) and another German company charged with doing the annual equipment inspection. At this time all the safety, electronic, hoisting, and other categories of essential equipment are checked and certified. At the last minute the planned underwater hull inspection was postponed. This inspection involves divers carrying out an inspection, backed up with a video-filming of the entire hull to look for evidence of hazardous corrosion, grounding, and damage to the propeller or rudder. This “light” inspection is required annually and Long Beach is a good location since we are here for several days and there is good access to technicians, parts and replacements. Every five years the ship is dry-docked and more detailed maintenance carried out. Hanjin Boston’s turn is next year.
August 21. We awoke to find an almost naked ship; all forward hatch covers removed and most of the holds empty. What a vast change in appearance. Also, with our stern loaded with engine, boxes and us, that left our bow high and a definite fore-aft slope to the vessel. The gantry cranes had been working all night but in the absence of any noise and only an occasional Richter 3 shake of the vessel due to abrupt box handling, we were unaware of their efforts.
We spend the day aboard working on our laptops. No interest in shopping, L.A. is far away and San Francisco is better, and Tom had seen the HMS Queen Mary (Hotel) years earlier. The gantries work all day except for meal breaks so our exercise today is vertical, several up/down trips on the eight decks. When the containers are whizzing by overhead and stevedores are aboard we can’t make our usual deck excursions. Occasionally we note significant differences in gantry operator skills. Some drop the container precisely between the guide slots into the hold, others bang and bash, back and forth, before they find the slot. Liz finally couldn’t stand watching the unskilled or careless performance of one gantry operator. And shortly after hearing a big crash sound emanating from the nearest gantry we saw the operator descend in his elevator (whether on break or disgusted with his performance or equipment, or fired, we don’t know.) We wonder about the systems for training, monitoring and supervising these critical and highly skilled personnel. Our captain said that ships and boxes can suffer significant damage from the load/unload process. When this happens, more complaints filed, documentation to prepare, and hassles with dock administrators over who is responsible and who pays.
Long Beach to Oakland (one day, 372 miles). August 22, our last day aboard. The gantries were raised and idle, we were light loaded with only 26,436 tons of cargo, and at 68,825 tons of displacement, now some ~55,000 tons under our capacity. We left with lots of room for more boxes, likely most of them empty, from Oakland and Seattle. Up to the bridge at 5:50 AM, pilot on board at 6 and underway at 6:10. As we ease out of the harbor we pass two military freighters, two “Sea Launch” purpose-built vessels for launching and/or monitoring missiles, and then a seemingly inexhaustible supply of container boxes, container trains and support vessels. We pass close by an even bigger containership inbound and soon the forest of gantry cranes and docks recede in the distance. We are now on diesel fuel, not bunker oil, and must not exceed 12 knots for about 40 miles, California regulations to reduce ship exhaust pollution. After that the ship gradually added rpms at the rate of 1.5 rpms/hour, starting from a mid-range rate up to cruising rate of 84 rpms. The engineering staff had replaced the rings on one cylinder of the engine and they started out with lower power settings until the rings were ‘broken in;’ amazing what they can do with such a large engine.
We made a last several rounds of the ship, reflected at our long wake and fine trip, and already started mutterings about a possible future trip. We now have calm seas ahead, the California coastline to starboard, and a scheduled 5 AM San Francisco pilot station pickup for tomorrow. Sadly, we’ll miss passing under the Golden Gate Bridge in the daylight but even in daylight it could be fog.
August 23. Up at 4:45 AM, on the bridge, the pilot already on board. We proceeded in the dark until the Golden Gate Bridge, when the very first signs of dawn appeared to the east. A sailboat was dead ahead, shining a light on its sail to make its presence known (radars don’t always pick up small fiberglass boats) under the bridge, a strong ebb tide with an eddy pushing us to starboard, rudder partially to port to compensate, under the center of the bridge with the sailboat now off to port, and anxious moments passed. The weekends are normally filled with boats but at 6 AM on a cloudy morning, that sailor must be nuts! We acquired two tugs, one on the port bow and the other astern, soon to act as the a “brake” once we enter the Oakland marine terminal area. In this capacity the tug is towed by our ship, with the tug’s engine in reverse, slowing us down from 8 to 4 knots. Otherwise we would be obliged to intermittently shut down our engine and risk depleting excessively our compressed air supply that is used for starting. As an interesting aside, while setting up the arrangement the pilot checked on the tug’s potential bollard pull, was informed that it was 70 tons, and then checked on the rated capacity of the stern hawsehole through which the tug-ship line would be passed; answer, 40 tons. Alas, the fine points of getting your ”pull” sorted out.
Thus we proceeded under the Bay Bridge, entered the several-mile Oakland terminal canal, passed Hanjin’s ‘linemen’ waiting for our ship, passed a dredge and an equally large containership being pushed to the wharf, and a bulk cargo ship being loaded with a million dollars’ worth of scrap iron and steel bound for Asia to come back as new products, up to the turning basin. We could see our stimulus tax dollars at work; much of the scrap was chewed up cars, cash for clunkers. The basin was only about 300’ longer than our ship so the turn was slow and very careful. Finally, up to our wharf where we heard the latest joke about shore linemen that puts the ship pilot community into guffaws. Wharf linemen receive the heavy lines from the ship and fasten it to bollards, a short, low tech but vital job. It went this way: two linemen were waiting for their ship. One notes a snail behind him, turns around, and squashes it with his foot. The other says, “Why did you do that; it wasn’t causing you any problems?” The other replies, “I couldn’t take it any more; the snail was following me all day!” We can appreciate the frustrations of waiting hours on a cold (or hot) wharf for a slow-moving ship, for a 10-minute job.
So, that’s it! A last breakfast, a warm goodbye to the captain, a hurried descent with our bags down the 56 gangway steps to the shuttle, and a delightful 20-minute chat with the security guard while we waited for a taxi. We learned a bundle about the challenges of terminal security in the age of 9/11, and then another bundle about the trials and tribulations of the newspaper business from our taxi driver, a long-time former photographer for the San Francisco Chronicle. But we’ll save these tales for another day.
We want to express our very great appreciation for the many kindnesses and bountiful information provided to us by those members of Hanjin Boston’s crew with whom we had most contact. Though we mention only six persons by name, all others with whom we came across in our daily perambulations were also very welcoming.
Captain Mario Trepczyk
First Mate Alexander Herold (Oakland to the 2nd Pusan visit)
First Mate Dennis Bachmann (for the last Pusan/Oakland legs)
Chief Engineer Karl-Heinz Meyer
Second Mate Dennis Schmidt
Steward Edgar Quiamson
We also want to acknowledge with appreciation the prompt service and comprehensive pre-trip information provided by Maris Freighter Cruises, the agency that arranged our trip. They publish an excellent small catalog that highlights available cruises covering many destinations and different durations, and we are pleased to commend Maris to your attention. For those interested in current costs please see the Maris website (www.freightercruises.com). At the time of our trip the rates were in the 85-105 Euros/person/day range, to which may be added port charges, and if required, the costs of a pre-trip medical exam, immunizations, visas, trip cancellation insurance and, at your option, gratuities. In our case total costs for 35 days added up to about USD 140/per person/per day.