Left-Handed Shiphandling

Some time ago I was on the wing of the bridge with my Third Officer who was new to the 7,218-ton freighter F. E. Weyerhaeuser. He had a vessel dead ahead showing green only and headed to pass close aboard to starboard. This officer said to me, “Well, I guess I had better haul to the left a bit.” “What for?” I asked.

“To give her a little more room.”

“And what are you going to do if he hauls to his right?”

“I don’t believe he would do that from where he is,” the Third replied.

Promptly, as if on cue, the approaching vessel made a major course change to her right.

Under the International Rules, when two power-driven vessels are approaching each other so as to involve risk of collision, a turn to the left is allowed only in the following two situations: a burdened crossing vessel may swing to her left to avoid crossing ahead, and, a vessel may alter course to the left when overtaking.

In inland waters of the United States the privilege is permitted only when a vessel is overtaking. Under the Pilot Rules, a burdened crossing vessel is to avoid crossing ahead “by directing her course to starboard so as to cross the stern of the other steam vessel. ...”

The Rules consistently hold against any alteration of course to the left. A common disregard of this precept has resulted in catastrophic consequences in clear weather as well as in fog.

Any experienced bridge watch officer has frequently met the fellow who, though he would be well clear to starboard, suddenly remembers he has read something regarding porting the helm and showing red, and so he alters course abruptly and radically to his right. But always give me this fellow in favor of the one who, in a meeting situation, skims close down your starboard side. I am unable to understand this maneuver, but it is prevalent enough to vie with the Rule itself.

This latter is a very trying situation even though the weather be clear. The following discussion pertains to this situation and its resolution.

Ship “A” is a northbound vessel on a course of 357° true. Ship “B” is southbound on a course of 180° true. The Watch Officer of Ship “A” sees both sidelights of the other ship three degrees relative on his starboard bow. He knows, if he is in international waters, that his own vessel is crossing,¹ he cannot cross ahead, and the other vessel must hold her course and speed. Vessel “A” should promptly alter course to her right.

Relative to inland waters of the United States, the court has been more lenient in their interpretation of the “end on” Rule.² The above vessels would be meeting under the Amolco decision; however, “A’s” obligation to alter course to her right remains.

An alteration to the right seems easy enough, yet why, oh why, does a ship in “A’s” situation so frequently hold on, or haul to her left? If she would simply change course promptly in accord with the Rule as soon as she recognizes the situation, everything would be easy for everyone. If she fails to do so, a problem is created for Ship “B.”

Under International Rules, Ship “B” is obliged to hold her course and speed and, as long as “A” shows only green, they should leave each other clear to starboard. But, as the range closes, and as the palpitation potential climbs, “B” frequently alters course to her left “to give her a little more room.” If Ship “A” should act simultaneously, altering to her right in accord with the Rule, the ships would be exactly in the ambiguous relationship that the Rules attempt to eradicate.

On the inland waters of the United States, if Ship “A” fails to alter her course to the right, “B” has a more complex problem. However, the only legal course open to her, in the opinion of this writer, is for her to alter course to her right as soon as she realizes that Ship “A” is coming too fine down her starboard side. The problems and their resolution follow.

First: Does the Watch Officer in Ship “A” consider himself crossing or meeting?

What the Watch Officer in Ship “A” thinks, or what his opposite number in Ship “B” may think he thinks, alters the situation not one bit. The court has determined this a meeting situation in a number of decisions, and a meeting situation it remains, irrespective of what anyone may think. The problem should be approached as it exists. An assumption that the other fellow might violate the Rule as you see it in a particular circumstance is extremely dangerous, as witness two collisions where, in the first, the OOD of a Destroyer Escort in a narrow channel surmised that a meeting ship “was about to alter course and pass down the starboard side of his vessel,” and, in the other, the pilot of one vessel “thought the [other vessel] was going to pass on the left.”

Second: If “A” continues to show her green, may “B” haul to her own right against that light?

In inland waters of the United States, in this meeting situation, “B” not only may alter her course to the right against the green light, but she must.

Third: If both vessels hold their courses while they close and then “A” should suddenly haul to her right, should “B” respond with a similar alteration to her own right?

If both ships hold their courses while they close, “B” must evaluate the situation as a crossing one. If she subsequently swings to her right in answer to a similar alteration by “A,” and a collision ensues, she will be faced with the irreconcilable facts in her attempt to defend her action. She will be obliged to establish why, if she considered the vessels to be meeting, she held on so long before altering course as required by the “end on” Rule, or why, if she considered the situation a crossing one, she subsequently altered course in violation of her “privilege” under the crossing Rule.

Fourth: If “A” holds on, or alters course to her left, can ^“B” also alter to her own left?

She cannot, except at her own peril. The meeting Rule only exempts from its requirements “two vessels which must, if both keep on their respective courses, pass clear of each other.” The court has held there to be “sufficient risk of collision to invoke the rule not only when two vessels are heading so as to pass through the same point, but when their courses will take them near enough to each other so that an unexpected and unwarranted change of course by either vessel might bring about a collision with the other.³ Thus if a watch officer feels he need haul to the left, the other vessel is not passing clear as required by the Rule. He stands self-convicted when he has “to give her a little more room.”

To sum up, a vessel in international waters seeing the green light of another vessel ahead whose range lights indicate a heading close down the starboard side, must hold her course and speed, the situation is crossing. She must bank on the other ship clearing her. In inland waters of the United States, in the same situation, she must haul to her right, as the situation is a meeting one. She should take this action immediately and unmistakably as soon as the situation becomes clear.

Nowhere do the Rules ratify a change of course to the left in meeting or crossing. Almost all the officers I have sailed with, however, make an alteration of course to the left when a ship is coming close down their starboard side; the reason is always the same, “I wanted to give her a little more room.” They take this action though they are totally unable to justify it, even though many of them can quote the Rules.

In a collision between the Marine Leopard and the Howard Olsen on the California coast, the Second Officer of the Howard Olsen hauled left “to allow more passing room” and his ship was sliced in half. This happened in perfectly clear weather.

Many other clear weather collisions can be cited demonstrating the tragedy of this left- handedness—senseless tragedy. The following information is incidentally available aboard the ship, and many more examples could be cited upon careful examination of the record.

On 16 December 1949, the Swedish MV Ekefors, inbound toward the Quarantine Anchorage in New York Harbor, passed Craven Shoal Buoy and hauled to her left to pass outward bound traffic starboard to starboard. The reason for this maneuver was so that she wouldn’t have to round to into the flood tide at the anchorage. The cost was about $110,000. She tangled with the Seatrain Texas when she proposed a two-blast passing where port-to-port was clearly indicated.

On the night of 27 June 1950, I was entering New York Harbor. As our vessel passed through the Narrows, bright lights and a bustle of activity could be seen ahead on Gowanus Flats. As we entered Bay Ridge Channel, we saw the SS Excalibur, down by the head, with a gaping hole in her side, apparently grounded on the flats. How did she come there? Via the same route, the star- board-to-starboard passage attempt. She had rounded Buoy 24 and, in a clearly meeting situation with the inbound Danish MV Colombia, proposed a two-blast passing.

On 16 February 1951, the SS Exanthia and the SS Elizabeth tore about $450,000 worth of skin off each other on Miah Maull Range in the Delaware River where, in this restricted channel, the Elizabeth proposed a starboard- to-starboard passage.

Again on Miah Maull Range at the junction of Cross Ledge Range, an inward bound U. S. Navy destroyer escort, as mentioned earlier, sounded a two-blast signal to an outward bound vessel on the “Officer of the Deck’s surmise that [the other ship] was about to [italics supplied] alter course and pass down the starboard side of his vessel.” Imagine the fear that clutched suddenly at the down- bound pilot as that blast signal turned a routine meeting into a catastrophe.

The Toshida Maru some years ago near Fort Stevens in the Columbia River walloped into the Charles R. McCormick because the Toshida’s pilot “thought the McCormick was going to pass on the left.”

It is understandable, even if inexcusable, how this kind of casualty can occur when one reads an article on radar plotting which adequately indicates what little consideration may be given to a change of course to the left. This article appeared in the September 1959 issue of Proceedings of the Merchant Marine Council, a publication dedicated to increasing safety at sea.

I must emphatically state that I fully understand this article to be an example of radar plotting, not at all dealing with Rules of the Road. But its author has had command experience at sea and the mere fact that he could seriously suggest the following procedure makes my point exactly.

The article asks the reader to imagine himself a Watch Officer in a ship approaching the English Channel on a course of055° true. The Old Man has a standing order to call him if any other ship should pass within one mile. A vessel appears on the radar at 20,000 yards and bearing 040° true at 0205 hours. The article demonstrates the plot by which the approaching vessel’s course is determined to be 192.5° true, crossing from your port to your starboard. The article then continues as follows: “You are ready to call the Old Man through the speaking tube. Without waiting for him to wake clear up, you can recommend that you haul left [italics supplied] to 032° true at 0214 and that the other ship should pass two miles off your starboard beam. With such positive information, he will probably tell you to go ahead and change course and roll over and go back to sleep. In any event, you have demonstrated your proficiency as a 20th century navigator.”

Perhaps that “Old Man” would roll over and go back to sleep, but not this one. Any Watch Officer who, in the clearest possible case of privilege, suggested hauling the vessel in any direction would be a risk, but one who suggested hauling left couldn’t be trusted to stand another watch.

The reason given for altering to the left in the article is “Naturally, if it becomes necessary to change course, you want to make the minimum course change.” So that's why they do it!

Almost all clear weather collisions occur because of a violation of the meeting or crossing Rules. In fog, however, the absence of any right of way allows a shipmaster to alter course in any direction.

In the Andrea Doria/Stockholm collision, the testimony brought out that the Andrea Doria had seen the Stockholm on her radar at 17 miles distant and 4° on the starboard bow. When the Stockholm was bearing about 15° and three and one-half miles on the starboard bow, Captain Calamai altered the Andrea Doria’s course 4° to the left. The next bearing given in the testimony was when the “glow” of the Stockholm’s lights was seen about 20° to 25° to starboard and about 1.1 miles off, when the Andrea Doria’s helm was put full left. Seconds later, she shuddered and resounded with the tearing of steel as the Stockholm ripped deep into her starboard side.

In the Santa Rosa/ Valchem collision at sea in a patchy fog off the Jersey Coast, the Assistant Watch Officer on the bridge of the Santa Rosa during the mid-watch, plotted a target just picked up on the six-mile scale of the radar— bearing 018° true, 4.9 miles off. This bearing was also relative as the ship was steering North. The engineroom telegraph was rung up to stand by and fog signals were begun as the lights of the other vessel were not visible. The course was altered 1° to the left. Three minutes later the target was again plotted bearing 021° relative, three miles distant. The closest point of approach (which, of course, depended upon both vessels holding course and speed) was calculated as .3 mile to starboard. The Master of the Santa Rosa altered course 4° to the left “to allow for more room.” At 0301 the Santa Rosa sliced into the boiler room spaces of the Valchem. Four men died, 44 were injured, and about $1,890,000 went down the drain in property damage.

A Victory ship, Ship “A,” was proceeding down the Washington coast in dense fog when a large radar target appeared ten degrees relative on her starboard bow, five or six miles distant. When this target had closed to three and one-half to four miles without appreciable change in bearing, the Master of the Victory ship changed course five degrees to the left. A few minutes later he changed course another five degrees left. The ships steadied up on this new course when the other vessel was sighted about one-half mile off and crossing the bow. Ship “A” immediately rang “full astern” but, nevertheless, slammed into Ship “B,” a T-2 tanker, at the forward end of the poop deck.

In the above-mentioned low visibility collision situations, the master of each ship that hauled to the left commenced his action when the vessels were in the same approximate relative positions. They each made the same approximate course change, and all with identical results.

In the similar left-handed Royalton/Monrovia collision, the Marine Board of Investigation remarked that “in the absence of any determination as to the course or intention of the Monrovia, the course alterations to the left on the part of the Royalton were ill advised.” Yes, indeed!

It might well be argued that, had these vessels been maintaining a proper plot, these accidents would never have happened. Let me, then, cite a case which occurred while I was writing this article, and to my own ship.

On 14 March 1961 at 0330, we departed Cape Henry for Cristobal. We encountered fog patches at False Cape Buoy and then continual low visibility conditions throughout the morning.

While we were making Bodie Island Buoy a radar target appeared dead ahead. We plotted the oncoming vessel directly down the heading marker which, of course, put us on reciprocal courses, i.e., we were also dead ahead of her.

When her range was six miles, we reduced speed from half to slow and altered course ten degrees right to pass very close to the buoy. This left the other vessel about 3,500 miles of sea room to her right. At four miles we heard her whistle and stopped the engine. As she had not yet made any course change, and we were not opening the bearing satisfactorily at our slow speed, we again altered course another 15° right, shaping to pass on the wrong side of the buoy. Suddenly we heard two blasts of her whistle.

The radar plot showed clearly that she was making way. Therefore, her Master was making one of two mistakes. The first, he could be sounding two blasts indicating his vessel was under way but had no way upon her when all he had done was stop the engine, a practice not uncommon. (In the Santa Rosa/Valchem collision, the Valchem, making 16 knots at full speed, sounded two prolonged blasts at the same time that the engine order telegraph was rung to stop.) Or, second, he could be indicating that he was putting his rudder left, an illegal signal when vessels are not in sight of one another.

As there was no reason whatsoever to suggest that he would alter his course to the left, it seemed that the first supposition was likely the correct one. An alteration to the left would not only have been inadvisable, but entirely unreasonable. My concern with this very problem, however, prompted me to be wary. I decided to act as if he were swinging left, as that was the only action he could take which would enable him to get at us.

If he were swinging left, stopping our ship athwart his projected course would have been a bid for bisection. We were already swinging right so we went full ahead and full right rudder. He sounded another two-blast signal and I could see the trace of his wake on the radar as he turned directly into us. We could do nothing further.

The other vessel broke clear of the fog about a point forward of our beam, headed into our port bow. We had little way on, and by this time our bow was swinging rapidly away. We came broadside to each other about two-tenths of a mile apart. A few seconds delay in acting would have put us among the 1961 statistics. It can be seen that our maintaining of a proper plot in no way prevented the other ship from hauling to her left, nor could it have prevented the collision.

By the above examples of left-handedness, both in clear weather and fog, I intended to demonstrate the touchiness of a situation where, in meeting, one ship is slightly on other’s starboard bow. I have also tried to show the consistency of the Rules in their insistence that meeting vessels alter course to the right where risk of collision exists. But, more imperatively, I hope to have established adequately that there is need for a specific provision in the Rules prohibiting an alteration of course to the left when vessels are meeting during low visibility.

A simple supplement to the present Rule specifically prohibiting, except in extremis, a change of course to the left by either vessel when there is risk of collision in low visibility would have prevented not only the Andrea Doria disaster, but also the Santa Rosa/Valchem collision and numerous others.

It is noted that the Annex to the proposed new International Rules of the Road states in Section (6) “The direction of an alteration of course is a matter in which the mariner must be guided by the circumstances of the case. An alteration to starboard, particularly when vessels are approaching apparently on opposite or nearly opposite courses, is generally preferable to an alteration to port.”

This is a tottering step in the right direction, but tottering because of its vague application. It is a general recommendation carrying little weight or force.

The problem of meeting vessels is covered by a Rule which, in its almost ridiculous redundance, indicates accurately the danger inherent in this situation. But this Rule deals only with vessels which are in sight of each other. It certainly cannot be considered a less dangerous situation in fog.