Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears A Crown*

The recent Andrea Doria-Stockholm tragedy has confirmed the feeling of many seafaring men that ships travel too fast in fog and that sooner or later the law of averages would take its toll. Speed in fog plus other dangerous and vulnerable practices exist at sea today which this catastrophe has vividly exposed.

Three major hazards which frequently affect the safety of the crack transatlantic liners are (1) the excessive speed induced by tight schedules, (2) over-confidence placed in radar equipment, and (3), especially applicable to the crews of American ships, the language barrier.

In short the life and position of a passenger-liner’s captain are not to be envied by anybody today. When the hue and cry of this latest disaster fades, it is practically a foregone conclusion that the two skippers involved will slip into oblivion. Even if their employers are not inclined to remove them from their commands, the insurance companies concerned are likely to demand their replacement, although the greater portion of the blame should rest fairly and squarely upon the shoulders of the shore-side officials. I am certain that these facts have never been brought out in any previous investigations, and it is safe to assume they will not be mentioned in the Andrea Doria-Stockholm investigation either. If captains involved in accidents could talk freely of the pressure to which they are subjected, without fear of retaliation, then such questions as, “Why such speed in fog?”; “Why was he not on his prescribed course?”; and, to go back 44 years, “Why was Captain Smith of the Titanic maintaining course and speed in known ice fields?” would be clearly answered.

Association with the steamship industry for 35 years has made the Andrea Doria-Stockholm disaster of vital concern to me. During this period I have made some 200 trans-Atlantic crossings, the majority of which were as an engineering officer on some of America’s greatest liners. Never once during these 200 crossings do I remember the ship slowing down in the open sea because of fog.

Trip in and trip out on liners, the fog situation was handled in the following manner. The engine room telegraphs were placed on “Stand By.” This means stand by to maneuver. Upon receipt of this order from the bridge, the slack was taken out of the ahead steam throttles so that they would react instantly. The astern (or backing) steam guarding valves were opened and, if available, an additional engineer or two reported to the operating or maneuvering platform. Under these circumstances the ship’s speed is not reduced by a single propeller revolution and, unless otherwise specified from the bridge, it never is. With engine velocity plus forward momentum, it would require several minutes to stop and reverse the engines; in which case the ship would have traveled three or four miles.

Hundreds of times I have been relieved of the watch while our engines were under “Stand By” orders. Then, making my way to the open deck, I would find the ship completely enveloped in a pea-soup fog with foghorns blasting periodically. Many times the fog has been so thick that it dripped from lifeboats, railings, and housings like rain to run off through the scuppers a full body of water.

Who ever heard of a trans-Atlantic liner being late because of fog? True, if fog conditions reduce harbor visibility to zero, a liner can be late in docking. The fact still remains, however, that the ship has arrived at her destination on time and has anchored outside the harbor to wait for sufficient visibility to navigate safely to her berth.

Some may feel that time lost while cruising at a reduced speed can be made up. This is impossible. In the first place, the trans- Atlantic schedule for the liners is formulated to the approximate maximum speed of the ship. Therefore, time lost for any reason is lost forever. Conclusive proof of this is illustrated by the fact that when liners are compelled to reduce their speed to keep from breaking up in a terrific North-Atlantic storm, they have arrived in port anywhere from hours to days late. Yet, many of these storms are short-lived compared to the long days and nights of continuous fog extending clear from the Grand Banks off Newfoundland practically to New York.

Collisions at sea in fog are not uncommon. I wonder how many people remember, or know, that less than 48 hours before the Andrea Doria-Stockholm crash, an identical crash occurred in the same area and in the same fog. The S.S. Fairisle was struck on the starboard side under the bridge by the Panamanian tanker San Jose II. The Fairisle limped into New York Harbor, then rolled over on her side and settled on the bottom in Gravesend Bay. The Fairisle's skipper, Captain Abram Kean, has admitted to excessive speed in fog. His Master’s License is now on the block awaiting the decision of the United States Coast Guard which has the power to revoke it forever if they see fit. Regardless of the Coast Guard’s decision, one fact practically certain is that another captain has started down the unhappy road to oblivion.

The Fairisle-San Jose II collision involved a freighter and a tanker and drew practically no public attention. It took a calamity of an Andrea Doria-Stockholm magnitude to expose the hazard of excessive speed in fog to the world, just as it required the recent terrible air lines collision over the Grand Canyon to expose the fact that there are three or four near-misses daily in the air and that our air lanes are over-crowded, a- fact which air line pilots have been complaining about for years.

Read the schedule of any steamship company operating super-liners and you will note the time of arrival and departure set up for a year in advance. It is also noted that the schedule is subject to change. Nevertheless, woe unto the skipper who does not maintain his schedule. The only excuse ever accepted is storm, in which case all shipping is late, and his late arrival is written off as “An Act of God.” The first question asked of a tardy captain by his shore officials is, “Why?” If his answer should be, “Fog,” the officials would point to other ships at their docks saying, “Look, they arrived on time—why can’t you?” Any skipper habitually late in arrival would soon be looking for another berth. The “Why can’t you” question has even been asked of a captain when a competitor’s ship has gambled on the weather in storm areas and, time-wise, has made a better crossing. If a captain pushes his ship just beyond her capacity during a storm and arrives with injured people or damaged ship, heaven help him. So it goes; all of them have proved themselves to be competent, responsible men. If allowed to exercise their own judgment, according to the dictates of circumstances and conditions, there would be far less tragedy on the high seas.

Why is it such a sin to arrive late? The answer is simply and plainly this —it costs the operators thousands of dollars for every hour of delay.

To illustrate: Approximately 24 hours before a ship’s scheduled arrival, the captain transmits his ETA (estimated time of arrival) to the operators. Upon receipt of this message the company initiates the customary procedure pertaining to the arrival. Port authorities are alerted so there will be no delay in clearing the ship (customs, immigration, health, etc.). Hundreds of stevedores and porters are ordered to be on hand for the arrival. If a quick turn-about is scheduled, fuel barges are ordered to be on hand so that fueling operations can start the moment the ship is berthed. Nothing can change this situation once the wheels have been put into motion and any delay beyond the ETA costs the operators thousands of dollars in idle hands. As far as the captain is concerned, he has a sacred obligation to meet. Neither fog, nor rain, nor hail, nor storm, nor gloom of night is ever permitted to delay him in meeting the obligation of his ETA. So he barrels along on a wing and a prayer, for he knows the consequences if he is late.

Another factor governing a captain’s actions is the quick turn about. The majority of schedules call for a turn about in less than a day’s time. The two Queens turn about in New York in 24 hours, the S.S. United States turns about in Southampton, England, in less than eighteen hours. For days before his arrival the captain is giving consideration to his scheduled departure for the return trip. If he is late in arriving, then he cannot make his scheduled departure, because the ship must be fueled, stored, provisioned, cleaned, and prepared for the sailing, all of which eats up the precious hours in port. A late sailing again involves additional expense in overtime plus the ill will of a couple of thousand irritated passengers whose plans miscarry because of the delay. In the interest of safety these schedules should be relieved. But what has happened and what is still happening is that the shore officials are continually figuring where hours can be cut here or there in their desire to squeeze another trip out of the ship during lucrative seasons.

The Andrea Doria-Stockholm disaster certainly indicates the skippers’ almighty curse of schedule. Captain Calamai of the inbound Andrea Doria claims he was traveling at reduced speed while Captain Nordenson of the outbound Stockholm admits that his ship was cruising at her full speed of eighteen knots. There are many interesting points to clarify here, concerning speed in fog.

Starting with the Andrea Doria, certain facts about her day’s activities are established. It is known that the accident happened in Latitude 40:30 North and Longitude 69:53 West. This position is exactly 180 miles east of Ambrose Lightship, the pilot station at the entrance to New York Harbor. The accident happened at 11:09 P.M., July 25, the night before her scheduled arrival. The New York newspapers published the Andrea Doria's docking time as 9:30 A.M. the morning of July 26. This docking time must have been released by the Italian Line as a result of Captain Calamai’s ETA. It requires at least two-and-one-half hours to negotiate the distance from Ambrose Lightship to Pier #84 North River, where she was scheduled to dock. Therefore the Andrea Doria’s ETA at Ambrose Lightship must have been for 7:00 A.M., July 26. In round figures the Andrea Doria had eight hours in which to travel the 180 miles from the point of collision to Ambrose Lightship. This would have required a speed of 22.5 knots per hour, or just about full speed for this ship. Captain Calamai stated that fog set in at 3:00 P.M. on the day of the collision and that he slowed down because of it. It would be interesting to know what the Andrea Doria’s noon position was on July 25. Or how many miles had she travelled from noon until 11:09 P.M.? Also when the Andrea Doria slowed down because of the fog, did Captain Calamai transmit a second ETA countermanding his original ETA?

The Stockholm has been accused of being several miles north of the eastbound lanes. These North Atlantic Lane Routes are suggested, not mandatory. The Stockholm was bound for Scandinavian ports in which case her great circle course (shortest route) started northeasterly from Nantucket Lightship, past Sable Island, Cape Race, and over the north coast of Scotland. It is admitted that this is not the suggested route, but it is the shortest. No doubt the pressure of schedule governed the captain’s actions. In the industry this is known as “cutting corners.” By cutting the corner at Nantucket Lightship, Captain Nordenson stood to save a full hour in running time. Had he followed the suggested lane, it would have cost him many additional hours. Cutting corners is common practice, and I doubt if there is a captain, past or present, who has not been guilty of cutting corners to save precious miles and minutes.

The North Atlantic Lane Routes are a series of agreed routes to which many steamship companies subscribe and which is known as the North Atlantic Track Agreement. The eastbound Stockholm has been accused by the westbound Andrea Doria of being north of her prescribed course and in a prescribed westbound lane. It is interesting to note that neither the Andrea Doria’s nor the Stockholm’s owners subscribed to the North Atlantic Track Agreement.

Another point of interest concerning speed in fog was the part played by the heroic Ile de France in the disaster. The reports of her position and activities raise several questions. According to news reports she was travelling eastbound, in heavy fog, at the reduced speed of seventeen knots when she received the S.O.S. calls. She then reversed her course and returned to the scene of the disaster, 45 miles to the west, at full speed, or 22 knots. It required her two hours to reach the stricken ship. The Ile de France’s activities during the twelve hours prior to the accident are well known and one important point was the fact that her scheduled departure from New York was at 11:30 A.M., July 25. It requires a full two hours to reach the pilot station at Ambrose Lightship (a departing ship always makes better harbor speed than an incoming ship) at which point her sea passage started no earlier than 1:30 P.M. Therefore in round figures she was ten hours from Ambrose Lightship when she picked up the Andrea Doria’s distress signals at 11:22 P.M. The Ile de France was 45 miles east of and travelling away from the collision point at this time. The scene of the accident was 180 miles east of Ambrose Lightship. Therefore the Il de France was 225 miles from Ambrose Lightship which she covered in ten hours running time. How could this be possible if she were travelling at seventeen knots during this passage?

Another point: The Stockholm and the Il de France departed from New York simultaneously. In fact the smaller Stockholm was required to wait in the river while the larger Il de France was turned and headed down stream. The Stockholm then followed her to Ambrose Lightship where they cleared the pilot station together. The Stockholm admits to travelling at full speed or eighteen knots. How then could the Ile de France be 45 miles ahead of her running at seventeen knots?

Speed control with respect to fog can be accomplished. It must be a cut and dried regulation, however, to be effective. I know there is not a skipper afloat who would not be thankful for such control. With an absolute regulation there would be no room for the daring individual who might be reckless to gain favor.

A suggested solution would be the installation of an electronic beam apparatus on every ship such as is now used by the lighthouse services. This equipment automatically sets off foghorns when visibility is reduced to a fixed degree. On ships this apparatus would set off an alarm which, by law, would require the captain to reduce his speed to one which would be standard for all ships. The penalty for violation should be severe enough for him to think twice before he would disregard the warning. The speed must be standard, not necessarily “half speed.” Ships like the United States and the two Queens operate on schedules of better than thirty knots. Half speed in their cases would be practically equal to full speed of ships in the Stockholm’s category. Unfortunately, the faster the ship’s schedule, the greater the handicap. I am certain, however, that all will agree that this would be better than having another ship join the Andrea Doria.

That radar is an aid to navigation in fog is conceded. In the latest tragedy it is known that the radar equipment on both ships was in operation and recording properly. Nevertheless, radar is a poor substitute for safety and no excuse for excessive speed. To illustrate the point, let us use the Queen Mary and the United States, the world’s two fastest liners. These two ships are racing toward each other at full speed in a collision situation. The aggregate is better than sixty miles per hour—more than a mile a minute. At thirty miles (or less than thirty minutes before possible collision) targets, or blips, appear on the radar screens of each ship. It takes several minutes to determine the course and speed of the target, thereby the distance has been cut considerably. Now, one captain decides to fall off, or pull away, from the collision situation. It takes several minutes for this change in course to become apparent on the radar screen of the other ship. In the meantime, the other captain decides to fall off and could very easily pull away in the same direction as the approaching ship. Before radar could help again, the collision point would have been reached.

Radar has not caused the trans-Atlantic liners to increase their speed in any way. They travelled just as fast before radar. In fact my own personal experiences, mentioned earlier, were largely in the days before radar came into the picture. Ships like the Queen Mary and Normandie were maintaining thirty-knot schedules even in pre-radar days. The law governing the “Rules of the Road” on the high seas has not been changed in any way since the advent of radar. In this respect I quote from the “Special Radar Safety Letter,” 082456, issued to all ships coming under the jurisdiction of the United States Protection and Indemnity Agency, Inc. “Because radar is such a limited substitute for a man’s eyes and ears, the law has refrained from taking cognizance of it to the extent of modifying the ‘Rules of the Road.’ ” Moderate speed in a fog is still a mandatory requirement of the law—moderate to the extent that a ship should be able to stop its way within a distance not exceeding half the visibility. That means actual visibility—not radar visibility.

In the case of the Andrea Doria-Stockholm collision there was an aggregate speed of around forty miles per hour. The Stockholm states that she first sighted the Doria at two miles. The Doria says it was less. Two miles may sound like a safe distance but, when translated into three minutes, it does not leave much time for decision; especially when one considers two masses, one of 30,000 tons, the other of 13,000 tons hurtling toward each other at a mile every ninety seconds. The Andrea Doria was a turbine-engined ship, therefore very slow in the maneuverability of her engines. It is doubtful if her propellers had stopped from their ahead motion, let alone reversed, at the time of the impact, even though her engines room telegraphs may have been indicating “Full Speed Astern.” The Stockholm is powered with piston-type diesel engines. Engines of this type can be reversed almost instantly, and it is an accepted fact that the Stockholm's engines were running astern when the crash occurred. No doubt her engines had been running at “Full Speed Astern” for at least a minute before the crash. Yet, because of the terrific momentum in the ahead direction, the engines were unable to reduce her speed appreciably in this direction.

The Captain of the Andrea Doria claims that he had been on the bridge for more than eight hours before the collision. It is safe to assume that if the ship had not come to grief, he would have remained there all the way to New York.

Captain Harry Grattige, retired captain of the Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary, states in his book, Captain of the Queens, “July and August, which bring smoky, blanketing fogs to the North Atlantic were always my worst months. At such times I have spent thirty consecutive hours on the bridge of the Mary.”

Under the stress and strain of pushing his charge hour in and hour out at full speed through smoky, blanketing fog, with his own foghorns blasting at regular intervals into his ears, is it reasonable, or fair, to expect a captain to be mentally and physically alert? None-the-less, the responsibility is his alone. He must make the decisions. He must answer the questions.

The language barrier was another thunder- head which reared up in the background of the Andrea Doria catastrophe. This is something which should serve as serious warning to everyone connected with the management, operations, and safety of American ships on the high seas today. Many of the Doria's survivors were critical of the lack of verbal communications saying that the only orders given, over the ship’s public address system, were in Italian, a language they did not understand. Fortunately, this had no bearing on the outcome of the tragedy but, on an American ship the case could well be quite the opposite.

Operational-wise the Andrea Doria was a mono-lingual ship with the captain, officers, petty officers, and crew capable of giving and understanding any order given in the Italian language. With discipline assumed, the officers and crew were spread throughout the ship at their various abandon ship stations. Then, as far as the passengers were concerned, the language barrier was secondary. As orders emanated from the public address system, those in charge could pass along the instructions by means of the sign language.

When the language barrier exists among the crew of a ship the problem is far more serious. On American ships today the dominant language of the officers is English, while the dominant language of the crew may be Spanish with a sizable percentage of the crew members unable to speak or understand either language. This situation became such a problem a few years ago that notices were placed in the crew’s quarters of some of greatest liners which read, “ONLY ENGLISH WILL BE SPOKEN ON THIS SHIP.” The situation was not changed in any way by the posting of these notices and only recently the management of the United States Lines felt compelled to post notices of the same nature in the crew’s quarters of the S.S. United Stales and the S.S. America. All that these notices could accomplish would be to condemn the majority of the crews to silence as long as they were on board. I defy anyone to walk through the crew’s quarters of either ship mentioned here and say that they had the slightest idea that they were on an American ship.

Many has been the night when I have given this crew situation serious thought and murmured a prayer or two. Alone in my stateroom, with the ship bouncing around in heavy weather, or the foghorns wailing away mournfully, and the knowledge that we had close to two thousand passengers and crew on board, the thought would come over me— “If we had a serious accident or collision now—what would happen?” All hell would break loose. With reference to the crew situation, I have asked many captains and other officers employed on American ships the following question, “If your ship had been in the Andrea Doria’s predicament, what would have happened?” The answers were shocking. They were brief but covered their feelings clearly.

In the interest of law and order during an emergency, the captain or executive officer, comes on the ship’s public address system to direct activities. The majority of the crew, incapable of understanding orders would do— what? It is imperative, in a place as isolated as a ship, where outside help may be many hours away, that every single man know his duty and obligation and be able to understand clearly the orders and commands of his superior officers. This could well mean the difference between terrible loss of life and property or getting the ship safely to a port.

Many will ask, “Why are such men hired on our ships?” Unfortunately, this is a situation over which neither the operators nor the ship’s officers have any control whatsoever. Once these men are issued seamen’s papers, the union is compelled to accept them. And, as soon as they are declared Union members in good standing, they are assigned to ships in the rotational method as agreed upon between the Union and the steamship companies. A ship’s officer has the right to reject a man, but in this respect he must be careful because the word “Discrimination” is injected at the slightest provocation

No one denies a person the right to a livelihood, but in the interest of safety, as well as the efficient carrying out of their duties, it is essential that all concerned speak and understand the English language. Is it asking too much that as a prerequisite to the issuance of seamen’s papers that the applicant prove his knowledge in this respect? The majority of our non-English speaking citizens are attracted to the industry because of the large pay. Let them be capable of assuming the concomitant responsibilities.

After the Titanic disaster, the iceberg patrol was instituted. The patrolling of the ice fields is done by the United States Coast Guard and is supported by the maritime nations of the world. This has practically eliminated the possibility of repeating this type of disaster. After the terrible Mono Castle fire at sea, drastic changes made in the American laws governing ship construction required fire fighting and detecting equipment, and the installation of fire watch patrols has practically eliminated the possibility of another disaster by fire on an American ship.

The owners of the Andrea Doria and the Stockholm have stated that their ships met with the standards as agreed upon at the 1948 International Convention for Safety at Sea. It is now apparent that some revisions are necessary in these standards. Throughout this article I have attempted to reveal some of the vulnerable conditions existing on ships, together with some constructive suggestions for their solution. Since the disaster I have discussed these subjects thoroughly with many ship’s captains and other top ranking officers, many of whom have read this manuscript. I can assure you that they are all in essential agreement with what has been written here. When the International Convention for Safety at Sea convenes again, the captains and other officers from the ships should be invited to sit in on the conference so that their side, and points of view, may be considered.

If this tragedy is allowed to slip by without constructive action then, for a short period of time, more caution will be exercised by the captains. For a short period of time, the steamship officials will be more tolerant. As time heals this wound, however, the pressure will gain in momentum until conditions return to the pre-Andrea Doria days and sooner or later the law of averages will again take its toll.