By Michael Grey*
With everyone slowing down to save both the planet and fuel we should not be surprised that the expeditors among us are more anxious than ever to cut corners to make up for all those lost hours on passage. Some are undoubtedly sensible, such as becoming more expert at timing an arrival at an optimum hour, obviating the nonsense of wasting fuel, only to anchor until a berth becomes available. And if the port and its services, terminal, agents and all the other interested parties, are singing from the same song sheet, everyone gains.
It is a great theory, but does not always work out like that. Other practices, like penalising pilots for dawdling in the approaches, or demanding bulkers are emptied of ballast before bringing them in, are very much more questionable. And we are reminded of another doubtful practice, with two accounts of fatalities where seafarers were unlashing containers rather than leaving this task to the port professionals, who are better accustomed to such a hazardous task. The cases are featured in the most recent Nautical Institute Marine Accident Reporting Scheme and are both summaries from the excellent Singapore investigators reports, in which they point out the lessons that ought to be learned from these sad cases of crew members losing their lives undertaking tasks best left to others.
Both seafarers – one aboard a ship which had just docked and the other with the ship under way – became unbalanced wrestling with the long lashing rods and fell over the side. Too many seafarers have died over the years in this task, which of course saves time in port, earns them some extra money, but involves them in hazardous activities, which are, in many places, prohibited by the port’s regulations. In one of these casualty investigations, it is pointed out that crew members who are unfamiliar with the work, such as cooks and stewards, are pressed into service to make up the numbers. And the truth is that on most container ships, there are just not enough members of the deck department to do this work, without pressing “all hands and the cook” into service.
A special risk on ice-filled St. Lawrence waters
In his book “Down to the sea in ships” – a fine account of contemporary voyaging on containerships, the writer Horatio Clare has a graphic portrayal of the grim business of unlashing containers in ice and sub-zero temperatures, aboard an inbound ship in the St. Lawrence river, after a trans-Atlantic voyage. They make good money, time is saved, but would it not be more civilised and safer all round, to save it for the shore-side lashing gangs? It also illustrates how minimally manned merchant ships are, when the crew have to be tasked to do extra work that is beyond their principal role, for no other reason than to save time and convenience and to make up the numbers.
Was anyone really surprised when the World Maritime University researchers, a couple of years ago, cast some serious doubts on the constructive way that the reporting of mandatory work and rest hours was being undertaken? There was a lot of pretend outrage at the time, but with the cutbacks in manning and the curious interpretation of safe manning regulations, it was difficult to see how “flogging the log” was not normal, in so many ships. The phrase “creative adjustment” was coined.
That was preliminary work by WMU, but recently Splash editor Sam Chambers reported on the conclusion of a three years study by Bikram Bhatia, funded by the ITF Seafarers’ Trust which amplified and confirmed the initial revelations. It is a substantial piece of research, with evidence from more than 6000 seafarers, 55 port state control authorities and scrutiny of 16,551 inspections. And it appears that 64% of seafarers “adjust” their work and rest hours’ reports to keep the visiting inspectors convinced of their compliance with the MLC2006 requirements.
Nearly half of those interviewed were instructed to make the necessary adjustments to demonstrate compliance, which suggested that the records of the PSCs themselves on this particular point were, to say the least, doubtful. And there is a connection here, between people plunging to their deaths doing jobs they really ought to leave to others, and the way that data is being smudged to show the industry in a better light than it really is. And if you are concerned with the reputation of the shipping industry, maybe all of this should give you pause for thought.
(Image from The Nautical Institute)
*Michael Grey is former editor of Lloyd’s List. This column is published with the kind permission of The Maritime Advocate.