Ship siren drills banned at dockside, port president says

By Mary Judice

Article summary by Gary Polson RBBI

Cruise ships will have to wait until they are under way to familiarize passengers with fire and distress alarms, under new Port of New Orleans procedures. The port's President and chief executive, J. Ron Brinson addressed the three cruise ship lines that call at the port in a letter Friday (20 Dec.) He said Riverwalk employees have said they did not react to the Bright Field siren last Saturday because cruise ships routinely test sirens during safety drills. The cruise ships sail on Fridays and Saturdays.

People "ultimately came to realize the danger and were able to evacuate the impact area in time. however, it is likely that their momentary confusion delayed their flight," said Brinson. Ships using the Riverwalk berths, including the Julia Street Passenger Terminal shall not sound distress or fire alarms as part of on-board preparation drills. The new procedure is effective Monday Dec. 22. Also the ships must contact the Harbor Police, Hilton Hotel, Riverwalk and One River Place when they conduct quarterly Coast Guard tests of sound alerts.

The letters went to New Commodore Cruise Line Ltd,. Holland America Line, and Carnival Cruise Line. J. Robert Jumonville, deputy port director of corporate affairs, said executives at all three lines said they would discuss the change with attorneys and report back.

The port is also asking them (cruise ships) to stage life-boat drills once they have passed the Esplanade Avenue Wharf rather than at the terminal. This change still allows them to comply with Coast Guard regulations which require a drill within 24 hours of sailing.

Little boats have mighty burden

By Joanna Weiss

Article summary by Gary Polson RBBI

The VHF radio Channel 67 covers navigation along the Mississippi River and is always a buzz of activity. Ship pilots call each other as daily traffic moves along. In emergencies, the radio becomes more vital and the tones more urgent. The pilots ban together as colleagues.

For four excruciating minutes last Saturday, as the Bright Field floated helplessly toward the Riverwalk, Channel 67 was a main conduit of information and a crucial signal for help. When the ship slammed the dock, pilot Ted Davisson called, "Get some tugs over here right now!" Within three minutes the Bright Field was surrounded by smaller boats - tugs and tows working to keep the ship wedged in its tight parking spot between the cruise ship Niew Amsterdam and the Flamingo casino.

As Davisson and his crew steered the ship to its narrow bert, the "regulars of the Mississippi River" the tug boat captains who jump from job to job and the radio operators who patrol ship traffic played a critical role in preventing further damage by the freighter.

Tugboats are about 100 feet long and propelled by powerful engines. They plow through the Mississippi water helping larger vessels dock in narrow ports. Each tug is usually part of a fleet, dispatched out of a central office to handle jobs both upstream and downstream. Algiers-based Crescent Towing owns 26 boats which do contract work along a 240-mile stretch of the river from mouth of the river to Baton Rouge.

Though constantly at work, tugboat captains monitor the navigation channel to be alert to dangers and are quick to help in emergencies. Federal employees, all of them experienced river pilots, moderate radio conversations from towers with grand panoramic views.

Mike Doyle 48, of Algiers, was working the control room Saturday at "Governor Nick," one of two federal watchtowers that guide traffic through the bends in the river at New Orleans. It was to have been his day off, but a friend wanted to go duck hunting. Doyle, an 18-year river pilot agreed to fill in. His shift started at 1:30 pm, 40 minutes before the Bright Field wreck.

Governor Nick and the upstream unit, Gretna, are known in Coast Guard lingo as "traffic lights." With the flip of a switch, an operator can turn a light red or green to stop ship traffic or allow it to pass.

On Friday (Dec. 20) , Doyle was in the Gretna tower, a mushroom shaped structure atop the West bank Levee. His swivel chair faced a semicircle of blue Formica countertop and a smattering of equipment: a radio speaker and mouthpiece, a huge pair of binoculars. Out the windows he can see a wide swath of the river, which curves out of sight around Algiers Point.

He pointed toward a huge foreign ship headed toward the Crescent City Connection. As it slipped beneath the bridge it turned sharply to the left. That is standard procedure, Doyle said, as the boat maneuvered its way around the river's twists.

When Davisson made that turn in the Bright Field a week ago, "he looked good', Doyle said."He looked like he was supposed to look." But when the ship lost its power, Davisson lost his ability to make the next step: turning the ship toward the right in time for the river's next big curve.

From Doyle's vantage point south of the bridge, it looked like the ship was heading straight for the Flamingo. "I got on the phone knowing in my mind that there wasn't going to be time for the Flamingo to get away," he said.

Doyle called the Flamingo first, then sent a radio message to the next ship heading downriver, hoping it would contact the Flamingo as well. He called the Coast Guard and told them to send ambulances.

"I wanted everyone to know just how grave the situation was," Doyle said.

Doyle said several tugboats and towboats in the area rushed to the scene. If those boats hand't held the bright Field in place, "something would have washed back out," Doyle said, "Just to hold him there so he can't go anywhere else."

The six tug boats that motored to the Bright Field's side are all owned by Crescent Towing. Roy Spencer, a dispatcher at the company's Patterson Street headquarters had left his post for a moment, "They must have heard the signal," he said. "I got up to go get a Coke , and I came back and they were gone."

Compared to the freighters and barges, the 90 to 100 foot tugboats are small, but powerful. The average tugboat weights about 98 tons and has a 3600-horsepower engine, Crescent Towing President Charles Andrews said. Unlike a tow boat, a square-fronted boat that pushes barges a long the river, a tug boat has a ship-like, tapered bow.

It takes a bout eight minutes for a tug to cross the river at 12 to 15 mph, Andrews said. The Bright Field was probably traveling about 8 to 10 mph, Andrews said. When the Bright filed hit, several of Crescent Towing's tugs had recently finished jobs nearby. The Louisiana traveling on the river directly behind the freighter had just competed a job in Westego. The Mississippi was heading back to the dock for fuel.

It was an amazing coincidence Spencer said. "We never have had five or six boats in this area." Five minutes after the accident, Spencer's phone started ringing. The first call was from a lawyer who had spotted Crescent Towing's tugs on the scene and wanted to know if the company needed legal assistance. Subsequent calls came from wives of tugboat captains wanting to make sure their husbands were all right.

The next day, some of Crescent Towing's European customers called the company, Andrews said, surprised that photographs of Crescent's boats had made front pages around the world.

At one point, Crescent Towing had six tugs on the scene. Later Saturday evening the number dropped to four, and then to three on Tuesday. As of Thursday there have been two tugs on the scene. Andrews said the company is still running a bill for its services.

That bill could get a hefty, a 3,600-horsepower tug likely costs about $500 an hour, said Don Scafidi, operations manager of Morill and Associates, a marine transportation company.

In a conference room at Crescent Towing two plaques herald Crescent employees who assisted in a 1979 marine crash.

Tugboat captains are prepared Andrews said. But "it doesn't happen on a daily basis, thank God."