Keeping the Captains on Course

Ship captains sometimes think they are God.

Then they meet Ray and Rudy, two inspectors for the International Transport Workers’ Federation, a global union based in London.

Ray Familathe, 40, and Rudy Vanderhider, 38, both home-grown longshoremen from San Pedro, are responsible for enforcing seafarers’ contracts and international maritime standards at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.

Several months ago, they initiated the federal seizure of the Fotini, an unseaworthy Greek freighter that was confined to port by the U.S. Coast Guard in October. Their actions recovered more than $75,000 in unpaid wages for the crew and sent the rusty hulk to a scrap yard in China.

A month later, they obtained a similar amount in unpaid wages for striking crewmen aboard the Phoenix Hope, a Japanese cargo ship. The federation uncovered severe food shortages in the crew’s mess and forced the chief engineer off the vessel for getting drunk and beating up seafarers under his command.

“When you’re faced off with some captain or business agent, and the abuses are severe, and the crew has no recourse except you, it is very rewarding,” Vanderhider said. “That is the part of the job we live for--doing something for the rank-and-file guy.”

Familathe and Vanderhider are part of a 50-year-old effort by the Transport Workers’ Federation to combat substandard merchant ships, particularly vessels registered under so-called flags of convenience--those of such countries as Panama, Cyprus and Liberia.

Those countries offer generous tax breaks and impose minimal standards on ship owners. Federation officials say flags of convenience have resulted in low wages, deplorable working conditions and poor safety records for many vessels around the world.

While investigating cargo ships in the local ports, inspectors have uncovered fake labor contracts, food shortages, lack of medical supplies, schemes to defraud mariners of their pay, substandard living quarters and dangerous problems such as inoperable lifeboats and broken navigational aids.

“Once a Greek captain we were looking at pushed a box containing $25,000 at me,” Familathe said. “I pushed it back.”

He quoted the captain as saying, “Let’s forget about the Filipino crewmen, huh? They are little monkeys anyway.”

Verifying complaints aboard ship isn’t easy. Familathe and Vanderhider, who check out about 200 tips a year, say they regularly encounter uncooperative captains and officers.

Records are sometimes poorly kept, they say, and crew members--the vast majority now from Third World countries--are hesitant to come forward out of fear they will be blacklisted in the industry.

Consequently, allegations can quickly melt away during the shipboard hearings used to confirm complaints.

Last month aboard the auto transport Ryugen, a Filipino crew member complained to the federation about maltreatment by the Japanese chief engineer, including being struck in the head.

Another crew member, who was no longer with the vessel, had written a letter complaining about verbal abuse and false accusations made against him by the same officer.

While the Ryugen disgorged Toyotas and Lexuses bound for area dealerships, Familathe summoned the crew, the captain and the chief engineer to the ship’s lounge to discuss the complaints. To get them to comply, he mentioned the possibility of calling the harbor police.

“Sometimes I feel like Judge Judy,” Familathe said under his breath as the impromptu hearing began.

When the chief engineer was confronted with the allegations, he became indignant and stared at his accuser.

“No, no, no. I no hit,” he said, gesturing with his hands to indicate that he struck only a glancing blow to the crewman’s head with a few pieces of paper.

The assembled crew members would neither confirm nor deny their shipmate’s complaint, but one of them said the accusations in the letter were true.

Unable to fully substantiate the allegations, Familathe and the captain finally agreed that a warning to the chief engineer was the proper way to proceed.

A year earlier, federation inspectors had had better luck investigating the Santa Christina, a new Vietnamese ship. The vessel was in excellent condition and the payroll records looked in order, except for one thing--an entry called “Vietnam Fund.”

The Santa Christina’s captain explained that every month a few hundred dollars were deducted from the pay of each mariner and sent home to their families. The assessment turned out to be fraudulent.

According to federation records, more than $20,000 had been stolen from the crew and split between the vessel’s owner and a Vietnamese agent responsible for staffing the ship.

“What I have learned is that sweatshop conditions are regular events in the maritime industry,” said Vanderhider, who has been a federation inspector for a year. “There is a bad ship out there every day.”

One of them was the Ariki Pacific, a cream-colored container ship that arrived at Berth 214 in Long Beach. Familathe, escorted by nine longshore workers, boarded the vessel Dec. 12.

The Ariki Pacific is registered in Cyprus, whose flag-of-convenience ships have one of the worst safety records in the world. The officers and captain were Greek. The crew was a mix of six nationalities, including Salvadorans, Egyptians and Filipinos.

A few months before, federation inspectors in Seattle had recovered more than $30,000 in unpaid wages for the crew. Familathe thought he should follow up to see if there were any new contract violations.

In the crew’s mess, Familathe requested the ship’s books, but the skipper wasn’t cooperating and pretended that he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Talk to my crew,” he said.

But the crew wasn’t talking.

“I want to see those wage accounts, captain,” Familathe said. “I’m not leaving until I see ‘em.” The mess was cramped with nine longshore workers looking on. Some of them were pretty big men.

After 20 minutes the captain relented, and the paperwork was produced. Familathe discovered that a few members of the crew were still being denied about $200 a month. The payroll documents indicated that their positions had been deliberately misclassified to put them at a lower pay scale.

The captain agreed to make up the difference and paid the crew members in U.S. currency. Each tucked the bills into the chest pockets of his greasy overalls.

“There. I’ve nothing to hide,” the captain said. “I’m not cheating my crew.”

Then he noticed a longshoreman recording the incident with a video camera. “I’m not against the ITF,” the captain said. “You make our lives better. I want to be 100% correct with the money, and I’m not saying that for the camera, either.”

It’s tough to play God, especially in front of witnesses.