Interesting general article with names we know... >>>>>>>> Posted on Mon, Dec. 06, 2004 River pilots navigate risky duty, tiring hours By Christine Schiavo Philadelphia Inquirer Staff Writer Each night on the Delaware and rivers all over the world, ships of various sizes and tonnages are quietly guided to port by pilots who know every curve of the bank, every depth in the channel. Romanticized by Mark Twain, who spent four years of his young life piloting boats on the Mississippi and took his pen name from its nomenclature, the river-pilot profession is as old as navigation and as modern as the laptops with global positioning systems that today's pilots carry. "Any vessel calling in any port must take a pilot on board," said Richard Buckaloo 3d, 59, a first-class Delaware River pilot from Lewes, Del. He is one of 70 pilots who navigate ships in the Port of Philadelphia, the nation's sixth-largest port in volume of ships. A Delaware River pilot with 30 years of experience guided the Athos I from Cape Henlopen to Paulsboro on Nov. 26. The Cyprus-flagged tanker, carrying nearly 14 million gallons of heavy Venezuelan crude, ruptured and spilled more than 30,000 gallons of its cargo into the Delaware. Neither the Coast Guard nor Tsakos Shipping & Trading of Athens, which owns the ship, has released the names of the river pilot, tugboat pilots, docking master or captain involved. The cause of the rupture has yet to be determined, but Coast Guard investigators do not believe river-pilot error was a factor. The spill has coated about 70 miles of shore with muck, covered hundreds of waterfowl in oil, and closed a shipping lane for nearly three days in the Delaware River, where, last year, 2,486 vessels sailed into port. "There was nothing to indicate that anything the river pilot did was wrong," said Michael J. Linton, president of the Pilots' Association for the Bay and River Delaware. "As far as we're concerned, it was a routine trip." What a Delaware River pilot calls routine, others would consider downright daring. With a bit of bravado, pilots transfer from a launch boat at Cape Henlopen to a big ship by way of a rope ladder hanging off the ship's deck. They climb 30 feet of swaying rope in wind and rain, fog and snow - mostly at night. Always wet and sometimes icy, the rope is the lifeline to a pilot's livelihood. Once aboard, the pilot climbs stairs that stretch several stories to the wheelhouse, where he or she (four of the association's pilots are women) will spend the next six to nine hours. Using the ship's radar, the global positioning system, and experience, pilots guide the ship's crew in navigating the narrowing Delaware River on a nearly 100-mile trip to the Philadelphia-area ports. A Delaware River pilot usually guides two ships on round trips each week, spending about 50 hours on the job. Their commission, paid by the shipping company, goes to the association. The wages are divided among the members, similar to salary structures at law firms. The compensation is good, with the potential to earn several hundred thousand dollars a year. But the positions are few. "Historically, everybody used to compete for the pilotage jobs," said Craig Dalton, navigation instructor at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy. "Once you got the job, you kept it. There were only so many spots, so they were passed on from father to son." Asked how he had gotten the job, J. Troy Selph, 42, a second-generation Delaware River pilot, said: "I got lucky." "I started sailing when I was 19 years old and worked my way up," he said while waiting at the association's South Philadelphia offices, where pilots spend the night as ships unload. Selph started on a tugboat and worked on an oil tanker before qualifying for a river-pilot apprenticeship. While grueling, the apprenticeship led him, Twain and others to their passion. "I loved the profession far better than any I have followed since," Twain wrote of his piloting days, "and I took a measureless pride in it." Today's pilots need a four-year college degree or a third mate's license to qualify for an apprenticeship, which lasts three to four years and requires 600 trips. Then they can apply for state licenses and work their way up through six classes of pilots. A first-class pilot, such as the one who navigated the Athos I, can guide a ship of any size, carrying any load. Carrying oil, steel, fruit, lumber and other cargo from all over the world, vessels need pilots to navigate waters unfamiliar to visiting captains. Using radar and computerized navigational tools, the pilots bring about one million barrels of oil a day through the Port of Philadelphia. "You're moving an awful lot of cargo," said Linton, 63. "Things go wrong. Just as cars have flat tires, ships have failures. But we have experienced pilots who have avoided a lot of groundings and collisions." Dalton, a former tanker captain, said pilots and captains lived in fear of a submerged obstacle that could rupture a hull. "That's one thing you try to avoid all your life," he said. Buckaloo said a pilot's first concern was safety - "the safety of the vessel he's on, other vessels and docks, and the safety of everything you pass." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Contact staff writer Christine Schiavo at 215-348-0337 or cschiavo@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Inquirer staff writer Troy Graham contributed to this article. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail