Cruise Ship Passenger Safety Tips

With the spotlight on the Costa Consortia tragedy, many people are concerned about safety aboard ships. There are a few things passengers can and should do:

1.  Attend The Emergency Drill.  I've seen many passengers avoid these, which can be a major error.  Go, pay attention and follow directions. You'll learn important evacuation and safety information that can save your life.

2.  Alternate Route After you attend the drill find at least two alternate routes to get to your muster station. Your most direct route might be blocked and you need to know others ways to get to your station. An emergency is not the time for exploring.

3.  Nothing is THAT Valuable. In the event of an emergency go directly to your station. Nothing in your cabin is more valuable than your life. Even a slight delay could bring misfortune.

4. Enlighten Yourself.  Pack a small keyring flashlight or download a free flashlight app for your smartphone. Lighting and emergency lighting could fail and you'll find yourself in a pitch dark, strange environment.

5.  Pay Attention and follow all crew orders in the event of an emergency.  They are trained on what do to for most emergencies.

I'm certain others may make other suggestions. But these are the basic tips I shared with passengers at my Muster Stations.

Cruise Ship Crew Safety Training

I wrote about some serious cruise ship incidents I had experienced in my past couple of posts. And while they may have been frightening, either could have had much worse outcomes had it not been for the training and response of each crew member.

In my 7 years at sea I can honestly say that safety and training were constantly emphasized. Basically it was instilled upon each of us that we were responsible for the safety of all on board. And as much as we dreaded having to stay on board at a port of call for some type of training, it was a necessary to insure each of us knew what to do in virtually any instance.

When a crew member joins a ship it is mandatory to attend safety training. It doesn't matter whether it was your first time on board or your hundredth, you had to attend. The classes were a general overview on procedures and equipment you may have to use.  The classes ended with a final exam. Fail and you must attend remedial classes. Fail after those, you go home. And I've seen quite a few go home.

After the generalized training you undergo specific training based on your crew position. Upon signing on board you're given a crew number. Each number has specific responsibilities depending upon the emergency situation. The Safety Officer and your supervisor continue with specialized training until both are satisfied you have a good knowledge and understanding of what you are to do given the situation.

Each crew member usually had two responsibilities; one for a particular type of emergency and the second being your abandon ship station. There were specialists such firefighters, medical teams or lifeboat captains. But as the years went by it became mandatory that crew members undertake cross training. Most of us had to attend firefighting school, learn to pilot a lifeboat and take advanced medical training. I also had to attend a series of courses in crisis management, learning the psychology of people's reactions in emergencies. While I was no way an expert, I knew enough to step in in case the expert couldn't for whatever reason.

A good part of our continual training were practice drills. Different scenarios were conducted monthly.  They got pretty realistic as crew learned how to react quickly and correctly no matter what. I recall once I was to be a passenger suffering a heart attack during a major fire. The poor crew members had to administer CPR, carry me up a few decks and then load me into a life boat. I almost had a real heart attack a few times worried they'd drop me.
Once a year we went through an extensive U.S. Coast Guard inspection. Drill after drill were run with Coast Guard personnel asking questions, testing each crew members knowledge of their particular assignments. We dreaded those inspections and studied for them like a school final exam.

Of course not all the training in the world can address how an individual crew member will react in a true emergency. They're human and rightfully as frightened as a passenger. Most will react with the ingrained training they've received. But some panic and seemingly forget everything they've been taught. That's why cross training came into play. If someone couldn't do their assigned task for whatever reason there were at least two others that could take their place and carry on.

I saw the news coverage of the Concordia and how passengers said crew didn't react. But I saw boats launched where they could, I saw life rafts in the water.  With the ship listing as it was, no amount of training could overcome the adverse conditions the crew faced. Yet almost every passenger made it ashore. Despite the questionable decisions by the Bridge prior to the collision, it appears to me the crew of the Concordia did what they were trained to do... save lives.

Cruise Ship Tragedy - Part 2

My second venture into the uncharted waters of ship accidents occurred on the Norwegian Sky, a month or so after my experiences on the Norwegian Dream.

I had originally been part of the inaugural crew of the Sky, boarding her months before her maiden voyage in the shipyards of Bremerhaven, Germany.  However, just prior to her sailing I was promoted to Assistant Cruise Director and transferred to the Norwegian Dream.  I had previously sailed on the Dream as a Cruise Staff member for a few seasons and was looking forward to "coming home".

After the Dream collision, I remained on board for a few days before my company flew me to meet the Sky in Copenhagen, Denmark.  Not only was it great to return to this sparkling new ship, I also got to meet up with my brother and his wife, who had booked the trip to be with me before my transfer.  I was happy to see them and my old shipmates.

The Sky completed it's one Scandinavian cruise in Dover, England and we did a trans-Atlantic cruise to New York City.  There we did some open houses for travel agents and soon embarked on a few "Fall Foliage" cruises that took us up the Atlantic Coast and into Canada.  Some beautiful cruising seeing the trees, etc. this far North.

Norwegian Sky with her original paint job.

Maybe a precursor to what was going to happen, while we were in New York City the remnants of a hurricane blew through. I was dining with some crew and looked out the window and noticed we were moving away from the pier.  Everyone laughed and wondered was the hell was going on as we weren't scheduled to leave until the next day.  We soon found out one off the massive cleats on the pier had broken loose due to the high winds pulling the ship away from the pier.  The ship had huge side thrusters that allow the Captain to push the ship sideways when docking, eliminating the need for tugs.  A quick thinking bridge officer started them almost immediately as our stern was swinging towards an old Navy destroyer that is part of the Intrepid museum complex next to us.  I heard rumors we did graze it but never felt anything. I was on deck for a while and I know we were close.

Midway through our fateful voyage we left Quebec City and were cruising the St. Lawrence seaway headed to Halifax.  It was just before lunchtime and the Cruise Staff was conducting a Bingo session in the Main Showroom.  I recall we had a pretty good crowd.  Soon, word got to us that there was a lot of whales out in the river.  A few of us ventured outside on deck.  Even cruising Alaska I had never seen so many whales in one area.  Soon, we would pass the word to our Bingo players about the whales.  Quite a few times a husband or wife would go out on deck to watch while his/her spouse continued to play.  The Cruise Staff suggested to our Assistant Cruise Director Adrian Lewis to see if we could have the Captain slow down as we were about to conclude the Bingo session.  That way the players would have a chance to see this wonderful display of nature.  Adrian contacted Cruise Director Dottie Kulasa with our request.  A few minutes later she called back, saying the Captain agreed to "do a U-y".

The showroom on the Sky is located in the far aft of the ship.  There were exits that took you right out onto the Muster (Main) Deck.  I can't recall which member of the Cruise Staff made the announcement to the couple hundred bingo players about the Captain's decision to swing around so they could see the whales.  I think it may have been either me or Adrian.  In any case, right in the middle of the announcement, the entire ship began to shake and shutter pretty violently.  Then it all stopped and the ship was virtualy silent.

I joined some staff on the Muster Deck a few minutes later.  We all wondered to each other what the shaking was all about.  Our first thought was he "backed down", reversing the props to slow the ship.  Pretty soon afterward, we heard the chimes of the ship's PA system.  A voice, sounding almost apologetic, said "Will the ship's crew main your emergency stations".  We all looked at each other like "what?" because that's not how such an alarm would sound.  Normally it is proceeded by the "seven short, one long" sound of the ship's horn and alarm system.  Most of us didn't move until maybe a minute or so later when the alarms did finally sound.

My station was on the port side of the ship, not a far walk from where I had been standing.  Cruise Staff members are almost always assigned as a Muster Station Captain.  Similar to the Dream, I assumed my station and began to muster the passengers assigned to my lifeboat.  And, like the Dream, we had had to rely upon announcements from the Bridge to get our information.  But this time, the Captain kept us pretty well informed.

One major flaw in the initial design of the safety procedures of the Sky was that extra life jackets were stored in small compartments (closets) along the muster deck, which were padlocked.  This was a change to what I was used to; on other ships the extra life jackets were stored inside compartmentalized benches along the deck.  Because the emergency had occurred just before lunchtime, many passengers were out and about and didn't have time to go back to their cabin to retrieve their life jackets.  So many at my station were without.  With the extra jacket compartments locked and no one with a key, we eventually started distributing extra life jackets stored in the life boats, which had been lowered to "boarding positions" alongside the railing.  When I returned to the Sky later in my career with NCL, access to the extra life jackets had been changed to allow immediate access.

Passengers and crew stayed at our emergency stations for what I seem to recall a couple of hours.  I remember wait staff appeared after a while distributing snacks to the passengers at the stations.  Because there was no damage to be seen, there was wasn't a lot of panic or stress by anyone.  The bridge announcements were reassuring.  But, as I learned later, the damage and seriousness of the situation was far more precarious than let on.

Similar to the Costa Concordia, the Sky had a large gash in the hull. I was told later that the gash was large enough for rescue divers to swim through. Because the area we were in was a large whale watching area, some of the large sightseeing craft were floating nearby. From conversations and reading the Canadian government report they were standing by in case we had too evacuate.  Of course, no such announcement about this had been made.  As I mentioned previously, with no visible damage, no one suspected the potential danger we were all in.

As I learned later, the ship had swung out of the deep channel and struck bottom. What I was told days later was the ship was partially stuck on a shelf. The changing tide could have caused the ship to list, making half of the lifeboats unusable if we had to evacuate. That explained the sightseeing boats hovering nearby. That, I understood, was the reason we were held at muster stations for so long.

Of course, we didn't list or have to evacuate. This has to be attributable to some great work by the Bridge crew in stabilizing things that afternoon. They averted what had happened to the Concordia. Of course, we were also going much slower.  We anchored close to where we had went aground overnight. The next day we were attached to a tugboat and towed back to Quebec City trailed by a Canadian Coast Guard ship. I don't really recall much of that journey. I remember disembarking the passengers was a couple days duration as NCL scrambled to arrange transport for almost 2 thousand people. Quebec City isn't huge, so there wasn't a lot of planes to fly them out. Some had to be bused to Boston in order to get planes home.

Here is the official Canadian government report on the event.

Over the next few days after the passengers left the crew got their reassignments. I was near the end of my contact so I flew home. After two near tragedies, I certainly was ready to be on dry land again. But today I can certainly relate to the passengers and crew of the Costa Concordia. Bless them all.
 

Cruise Ship Tragedy - Part 1

Having worked on cruise ships for six years, the tragedy of the Costa Concordia off the coast of Italy struck home with me. And, having been through two near similar fates during my career, the end result doesn't surprise me at all.

When a crew member signs onto a ship they must attend mandatory safety training. Each member of the crew is assigned a specific responsibility he or she must undertake during an emergency at sea. Further, there are monthly practice drills crew members must participate to increase their knowledge.  And, while that may be great in theory, you have to remember human nature. No matter the amount of training, no one knows how they will react in the face of a true emergency. That goes from the Officers all the way down the chain of command.  Faced with fear and uncertainty, you have no idea how an individual will react when confronted with a life or death situation.

My first "emergency" was aboard the Norwegian Dream. We were concluding a 14 day Scandinavia cruise heading to Dover, England when my ship collided with a container ship in the English Channel. I was sleeping in my cabin when the Ever Decent hit us. Everything in my cabin flew around, including a big TV that fell to the floor inches from my bed.  I sat up totally confused as to what had happened. Then I heard an announcement over the ship's  PA system virtually screaming "Code Delta! Code Delta! Code Delta!" That was ship code for collision/damage. Even though I was not signed a "Delta" station, as Assistant Cruise Director I knew the jolt would have passengers up and about so I began to get dressed to go out to the public areas to see if I could help.

As I was getting dressed the "seven short, one long" alarm sounded. That's the International alarm for all on board to immediately go to their emergency muster stations. Now I knew we were in some serious trouble.  I finished dressing and started to head to my station, which was a passenger lifeboat station near the rear of the ship. My duties were Muster Station Captain, in charge of 150 or so passengers assigned to a lifeboat.  I ran out into the corridor but my most immediate path was blocked as the watertight doors had closed blocking the hallway. These doors are located from just above the waterline to below to compartmentalize areas of the ship so any water that might come in is confined to small areas and not compromise the entire ship.

I went another way not blocked and started to make my way to my station with my life jacket on. On the way I ran into a crew member I didn't know that was obviously panicked. The man was from some European country and was having a difficult time speaking English. All I could comprehend was "I don't know where". His eyes were so wide and he looked totally freaked out.  I tried to console him and saw a head waiter I knew was in charge of one of the crew life raft stations. I put my arm around the scared guy and led him to the waiter. The waiter recognized me, saw the panicked crew member and instantly took charge of the man, talking quietly as he escorted him to the raft station.

When I got to the muster station, a good many passengers were already there. I began to get them assembled in lines. I recall there were a few announcements about us being in a collision and for passengers to stay at their muster stations until further notice. But not much else. And, while many points remain fresh in my memory, I cannot recall whether the lifeboats were ever lowered.  I'm thinking they weren't.  But I do remember a few passengers asking me about procedures on launching the life boats, etc.  Basically they wanted a refresher course of the first day emergency drill we conduct for passengers before we sail.

Unlike the drills we practiced, I don't recall ever seeing any Ship's Officer on deck. I also found it strange that I never received a checklist of passengers that were supposed to be on my lifeboat. That list is normally delivered by a bridge messenger. (They changed the procedure in later years, where the Muster Station Captain retrieves the list from the Bridge before heading to the Muster Station.)  I was hit with a barrage of passenger questions, but no information to give them.  I was as in the dark as they were.  But I do know there wasn't any panic in my area.  I heard reports of some minor injuries and a suspected heart attack but none at my station.  I think most people were groggy after being jolted awake.

We all stood outside for maybe an hour or so before the Captain announced that damage had been contained and we were proceeding to Dover at reduced speed.  No information about what caused the calamity.  The Captain then dismissed us from our emergency stations. Some passengers made their way back to their cabins. Like me, I doubt many went back to bed. I wandered around the main deck trying to see what damage had occurred.

Initially, it was hard to see any major damage. A lifeboat and a large jet ski they use for man overboard rescues were both missing, sheered off their davits.  A good chunk of railing was also missing.  Below the railing, a passenger cabin window was smashed. And, on the bow deck laid two or three huge containers.  Each of these containers were about the size of a small semi truck trailer.  Working with some other crew members, we began to rope off the damaged areas. This is when I again realized I had still yet to see a single ship's officer during the entire incident. The only contact had been through PA announcements from the Captain.

Inside we looked at the Gift Shops, which were totally destroyed.  The worst areas were the liquor shop and shop that sold expensive nick-knacks.  Most of the product were broken a littered the floor.  The Cruise Staff offices were a shambled.  I eventually made my way back to my cabin and saw the large TV that had fallen somehow had turned itself on while it laid face down.

We limped into port and arrived maybe five hours late.  At first,  there was a lot of confusion as most passengers had missed their flight connections, etc. But the Purser staff and NCL shore staff did a wonderful job getting people on their way. Of course, there was a good deal of media on the dock as well as maritime officials.  Part of my responsibilities were to make PA announcements dismissing groups of passengers, so it was quite a while before I went ashore and saw the most significant damage, the crushed in bow.

The Dream bow -1999

 

From the front, showing missing bridge wing

Ever Decent caught fire after the collision

The crew remained on board for a few days afterward.  Of course, subsequent voyages were cancelled.  Led by my boss, Carey Sue, our staff started to store equipment in secure areas as the ship would be heading to dry-dock for repairs.  Lots of rumors were heard as to the cause of the collision.  Most I dismissed.  It wasn't until years later a final determination was made.  The report is available online but the summation was:

An over-burdened bridge officer, information overload and heavy traffic were to blame for a collision in the English Channel last August between the 1,700-passenger Norwegian Dream and a container vessel, according to a summary of the accident report.

Soon, I was off to Copenhagen to join the Norwegian Sky, who was on her maiden voyage.  Little did I know at the time that I would hear the dreaded "Code Delta" all over again......

Dodgers First To Fly

Watching the game last night, I saw a commercial for United Airlines bragging they "proudly flew" the Dodgers.  First thing I thought of was United cheaped out because all the baseball shots are generic (they run the same spot for other teams, as well). Secondly, I was out of touch because, as a kid, I remember once seeing a Dodgers airplane and thought they still had their own plane to fly the team around.  So I got looking on the Internet.

On May 7, 1940 the "high-flying Dodgers boarded two giant airliners at Lambert Field, St. Louis" for a 3-hour flight to Chicago.  "The journey marked the first mass flight of a major league club during the playing season."  According to a New York Times article (the link is to someone selling a copy the actual paper, with close-ups of the articles). Some teams had flown some of their members beforehand, but the Dodgers were the first to fly the entire team.  Looking at the article, you can see Leo Durocher had to convince players it was safe.

Now jump ahead about 8 years.  The Dodgers bought a small 6 seat airplane to ferry Branch Rickey around.  The aeronautical roots of the Dodgers were pretty much taking hold, primarily because Dodgertown was an abandoned WW2 U.S. Naval Airbase, adjacent to Vero Beach Airport.  A couple of years later, Walter O'Malley took the reigns as President of the team and started to make big improvements to the old base.  That same year, Branch Rickey "bought" a bigger plane for the Dodgers, a DC-3. This article tells the story of how it might have been acquired with a roll of the dice. They used the plane to haul around Mr. Rickey, et al.  But the plane wasn't used all that much. 

Then, in the mid-50's they decided to try an experiment to see how dependable air travel was in transporting a team.  So they started hauling their minor league clubs.  First it was their St. Paul Club, then the Texas team was added.  The experiment worked.  So O'Malley decided the big-league team could take advantage of the reduced travel time and spent $700,000 on a Convair 440 in 1957.  At that time O'Malley told the press "it's the first time a major league club has bought an airplane".   

Obviously O'Malley kept the move to Los Angeles a big secret.  Through the purchase of the plane was before the big announcement, he was quietly making preparations.  However, it was the plane that actually made the first announcement the team was moving to the West Coast.  The pilot, privy to insider information, had the words "Los Angeles" painted over "Brooklyn" on the side of the plane the day before the flight left Vero Beach.  There were a lot of surprised officials when the plane landed (late) in L.A. Speculation was the actual contracts had yet to be signed until the next day after the arrival. 

The old 2-engine plane did duty on short hauls, with the Dodgers chartering a United Airlines plane for the long hauls.  But it was beginning to wear down as the years progressed.  In late 1960, O'Malley decided to upgrade "Air Dodger" and instructed the team's pilot to find the best 4-engine plane available at the time.  Because of maintenance concerns from Lockheed, maker of the then superior "Electra", they had to settle on used 2-engine DC-6B.  They also made a little money off it, chartering it to the newly-formed Los Angeles Angels whenever the Dodgers were playing at home.

In late 1961, after a lot of wheeling and dealing the Dodgers finally upgraded to an Electra 2, a four-engine plane they converted to be a palace for their players.  They spent $75,000 on the interior, which included card tables, Dodger blue carpet with embroidered balls and bats and a lot of bells and whistles not found in commercial aircraft of the time.  The plane was named Kay O, after Mrs. Walter O'Malley. It ferried the Los Angeles Dodgers (and Angels) in style until 1970 when the Dodgers moved into the jet age.  It was such a big deal in those days for a team to have a plane, a Revell model was made of it, sold at Danny Goodman's concession stand at Dodger Stadium.  This plane was subsequently sold to American Airlines in 1970.  In 1995, it was purchased by an aerial spraying company based in Canada.

O'Malley first began looking into upgrading to a jet as early as 1965.  But it wasn't until 1970 that the Dodgers took possession of a used Boeing 720-B from American Airlines.  Named Kay O II,  it was the ultimate in transportation for professional teams.  And it wasn't bad duty for the pilots, as well.  Posted on a pilot website forum: "I was First Officer of  Kay O II from 1979 until Peter O'Malley sold the airplane for to the USAF for the engines (in 1982).  Except for the pay, it was the best imaginable flying job.  You flew no more than 150 hours per year, with 5 months off with pay, stayed with the team, had seats at away games within a few rows of the dugout and since the plane was based at LAX, was off-duty while the team was on a home stand".

Obviously, the cost of a crew, separate maintenance, fuel, etc. makes it cost-prohibitive these days to have a team plane.  It makes much more monetary sense to charter from someone like United and let them worry about all the support costs.  The fuselage of Kay O II was sent to Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Arizona after parts were salvaged. The remains of the plane were being cut into scrap in 2001 when some people purchased the cockpit of the plane and transported it to Mohave, Calif.  A couple of websites (1) and (2) dated 2008 were created in an effort to restore the cockpit portions of the plane.  I haven't heard back from either as to whether the project is still alive.

As a lot of fans, I knew about the history the Dodgers made on the field.  However, I never knew the inroads Walter O'Malley made in transportation of a professional team.  A couple of Dodger firsts (first to fly and first to own a plane) that are, in my opinion, pretty cool.