That summer I changed course, but not because of winter sailing. I’d heard that Mobil would soon go from three ships to none on the West Coast, so I quit to sail full time with the Sailors’ Union Of The Pacific. The loss of the Mobil tankers is continuing evidence of the decline of our maritime industry. The size of the U.S. active fleet of merchant ships has sunk to 365 vessels in the last 10 years. Gone with them, of course, are jobs.
My first assignment from the union was on an aging tanker. The Lion of California, affectionately known as Good Ole Gal to those who have sailed her, has been hauling gasoline up and down the West Coast since 1955. Had she not been sold earlier this year to a foreign company for scrap, the ship would have been retired in 1995 anyway because of the U.S. law requiring double bottoms on tankers. She is one among many older lost ships that will further reduce the number of U.S.-flag ships in service. And it’s about to get worse. The Clinton administra-tion’s decision last year to end maritime operat-ing subsidies has forced America’s two larg-est commercial shipping companies, American President Lines and Sea-Land, to consider going foreign-flag with foreign crews. Recently, a Liberian-registered ship with a foreign crew and owner was approved as a substitute vessel with the APL fleet by the Maritime Administration. I believe that Clinton’s policy represents a major threat to the American laborer, our economy and the role of the United States in an expanding global market.
Sometimes I wonder if the government wants a merchant-marine industry in the United States. Congress has been studying maritime reform for 20 years, and the best they’ve done is produce a list of laws mandating everything except the survival of a strong American fleet. The House approved President Clinton’s 10-year, $1 billion Maritime Security and Competitiveness Act to replace subsidies in 1997, but with no funding; it now awaits Senate approval. The $1 billion – to come from increased cargo fees from shippers – is probably not enough to keep shipowners from reflagging the majority of their ships. In June 1993, Sea-Land announced that it had applied to reflag 13 of its U.S. vessels and was considering hiring Russian seamen. Boris Yeltsin has approved a plan to invest $12.5 billion to upgrade the Russian merchant fleet. What are we doing to expand our own fleet?
During Operation Desert Storm I sailed on a “stick ship” (freighter) called the Cape Girardeau. Fitted with cargo booms, she was called into service from the dwindling mothball fleet and operated by American President Lines. It was a great experience for the younger sailors to go around the world on these mothball ships, as it was for those who worked on the victory ships during World War II and Vietnam. Where will the supply ships come from in the next national emergency? Will foreign-crewed ships be pressed into the service of the United States?
Two years ago, I was privileged to sail on the Matson Line’s new container ship – the last one of her type to be built in America this century. Built without a dime of subsidy money, the R. J. Pfeiffer will spend her life in the profitable Hawaii trade just like her canvas-sailed ancestors. Her owners have never received government operating assistance, but then Matson’s does not compete worldwide. American merchant lines that do business in the highly competitive global marketplace have been forced to rely on subsidies to survive.
My own survey of ships sailing in and out of major ports such as Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, Ore., and Seattle has proven why Japan, South Korea and Taiwan already control more than 50 percent of container shipments coming into U.S. ports. All three nations have subsidies supporting their merchant marine.
Most of the ships I’ve been on go once a year for repairs to U.S. shipyards. I’ve visited major shipyards from Washington to California. Their appearance and production tooling are appalling, like something out of a World War II movie. However, the men and women who do the work are the best, especially given their working conditions. We can’t compete with South Korea, Japan and Germany in shipbuilding when they’re subsidized by billions. Our workers’ wages are on a par with the biggest ship exporters’, but we sell our latest technology to the highest bidder overseas; it’s too costly for U.S. shipyards. APL has ordered nine ships to be built in Germany and South Korea; that translates into thousands of lost American jobs. Reluctance to expand support for shipyards is at the heart of the industry’s inability to compete.
Early this year, I made a voyage to the Far East on APL’s President Truman, one of the largest container ships in the world. She cruises at more than 24 knots to places like Japan, Taiwan, Korea and Hong Kong. Together with her cargo she is worth more than most U.S. corporations. She is a floating business moved from port to port by skilled executives – not the boardroom variety, but the men and women who’ve made the sea their lifelong career. Now those careers are coming to an end. Battered by threats of wage cuts and reflagging for so long, many of them will retire before APL has a chance to haul down Old Glory. Weak unions and an even weaker Congress will stand by and watch an entire American industry sink itself.
It will be a sad day for the United States when American President Lines builds its latest ship in Germany, crews her with foreign nationals and christens her the President Clinton.
