When Pull Comes to Tug

It’s 5:45 a.m. as Capt. David Brusco maneuvers his tugboat through the fog toward a cargo ship waiting about two miles outside the Port of Hueneme.

It’s a good time of day to tow a ship into harbor. The winds haven’t picked up yet, and the sea is calm.

But the life of a tugboat operator can be anything but calm.

The tugboat captains and deckhands at the port often battle high winds and towering waves to bring in the massive ships that make this harbor tick. They must contend with slippery decks and tow lines that have been known to snap and kill. They work all hours of the day, in all weather conditions, often being forced to cancel personal engagements at the last moment.

“There is a certain bit of adrenaline that you get when you are working around those big ships,” said Brusco, 35, general manager of Brusco Tug & Barge Inc., a Washington state-based provider of tug services at the Port of Hueneme. “It takes someone with coordination. You have to be alert and aware of your surroundings at all times.”

In some respects, tug captains’ jobs have gotten easier. Brusco, whose company is the port’s only tugboat service, recently purchased a new state-of-the-art boat that was specifically designed for the Port of Hueneme, the smallest of California’s 12 deep-water harbors.

The Wynema Spirit, which cost more than $4 million, is one of the most powerful tugboats of its size on the West Coast. It is 78 feet long and capable of pushing or pulling 100,000 pounds forward or backward. By comparison, Brusco’s two conventional tugboats, the Cleo and Roland, can move 60,000 pounds forward and 40,000 pounds in reverse.

The Wynema Spirit’s fire pump can shoot 1,800 gallons of water per minute and 300 gallons of fire retardant in six minutes. It also has a rotating propeller system that allows it to rotate 360 degrees and move in any direction, including sideways.

“It can spin on a dime and stop within its own boat length,” said Ken Harford, engineering manager for Robert Allan Ltd., the Vancouver, Canada-based company that designed the Wynema Spirit and similar tugboats around the world. “When it’s handling a ship, this boat will be able to stop that ship in a shorter distance than a conventional tug with similar horsepower.”

Officials with the Oxnard Harbor District expect the new tug to be particularly helpful if the Navy and the district can come to terms on a deal that would allow commercial use of the Navy’s Wharf 3, a move that would dramatically increase the number and size of ships that dock at the port. The facility now supports about 3,000 jobs and generates about $300 million a year for the local economy.

“We’re going to see a lot more boat traffic or ship traffic in the port,” said Michael A. Plisky, vice president of the Oxnard Harbor District. The Wynema Spirit, he added, “will be able to maneuver our existing ships in tighter spaces, and will [enhance] our efficiency.”

Brusco employs six full-time workers who are on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The men live nearby and carry pagers so they can respond at a moment’s notice when a ship needs to be brought in or out or in case of emergency. The men usually work 25 days consecutively, putting in at least 180 hours a month, then take five or six days off before starting the cycle again.

Nonunion tugboat operators, including Brusco’s employees, earn roughly $70,000 a year, depending on their experience; their union counterparts tend to earn more, said Robert Romero, spokesman for the Inland Boatman’s Union based in San Pedro.

Last year, his crew towed more than 400 ships into the Port of Hueneme, many carrying bananas from Ecuador or vehicles from Japan, Korea and Europe. The men also helped with the gruesome task of recovering human remains, airplane parts and other debris when Alaska Airlines Flight 261 plunged into the Pacific Ocean last year, killing all 88 people on board.

On a recent morning, the Wynema Spirit sliced through the fog to help haul in a ship carrying imported vehicles. The crew smoked cigarettes and sipped hot coffee on their way out to sea, preparing the heavy tow lines as they approached the massive carrier. They greeted crew members who stood above them on the ship, hooked up the lines, then nudged, pushed, pulled and steered the cargo vessel into port.

“See how it takes off,” deckhand Mike VanGelder, 35, of Port Hueneme, said of the Wynema Spirit. “The other ones make a lot of noise. This is quiet.”

It takes about an hour to bring a ship into or out of port. When not pushing or pulling a ship, the men maintain the tugs, keeping them in top working condition. It’s hard work: The men must lift heavy ropes and equipment and crawl through tight spaces on the boat.

Many of the tugboat operators at the port grew up along California’s coast and felt a natural attraction to the profession. Many simply love the open sea, the salty air and the thrill that comes with doing a dangerous job. Others previously worked as waiters, bartenders or in retail jobs, and wanted something more exciting.

Deckhand Wade Edwards worked in retail and later at a fish cannery in Alaska before joining Brusco’s team seven years ago.

One of his most memorable moments occurred while helping a fellow crewman board a Navy vessel from the tugboat near the harbor’s entrance. The winds were gusting and waves were crashing over the boat. As the crewman prepared to climb a ladder up the side of the ship, Edwards held onto him with one hand while holding onto the tugboat with the other, taking 10-foot waves in the face and becoming blinded for three to four seconds at a time.

“It was intense. It’s not something I would look forward to doing again,” said Edwards, 30, of Port Hueneme. “We did it safely, but it’s a little unnerving to see a 10-foot wave coming at you and not being able to run.”

The job can play havoc with crewmen’s personal lives because of the uncertain hours. That can mean missing family birthdays, dinner parties and evenings out with friends. Last week, port engineer Willy Brown had to miss a friend’s wedding to repair a broken oil line on one of the tugboats.

“You can’t really go too far out of town, because if something happens . . . if a pipe breaks and floods the dock, you have to come down and take care of it,” said Brown, 27, of Ventura.

But there are benefits. Though the job keeps him hopping, Brown now has more time to spend with his new wife, Kami, than he did in his previous job towing barges in the Pacific Northwest, which often kept him away two months at a time.

“You get to see the sun come up before anybody else,” said VanGelder. “It’s just a good way to start the day, and end it as well, [with] the sunset.”