Speedy Ship now up for Scrap

cNet

 

Ten years ago during a visit to Philadelphia, I passed a large ship docked at a pier on the Delaware River. The ship looked like an ocean liner and though I sped by in a car, I noticed the faded name "United States" on the bow. I wondered, could it be the same revolutionary passenger liner that still holds an Atlantic speed record a half a century after its speedy voyage? As it turns out, it was.

The SS United States has been moored in Philadelphia since 1994, but now it appears that its days could finally be numbered. The Philadelphia Inquirer reported today that the ship's owner, Norwegian Cruise Lines, is seeking to sell the United States for scrap. Norwegian bought the liner in 2003 with the intention of refurbishing and returning it to service in Hawaii as part of NCL America. But as the Hawaii cruise market began to lose money, NCL kept the ship in Pennsylvania.

If the United States ends up in the scrap yard, it will be a sad end to a short, but spectacular, career. When the liner was launched in 1952, it was a technological breakthrough of its time. Thanks to a sharp-edged stern, a bulbous prow, powerful engines, and unique propellers--the design of which was kept secret for many years--the United States was very fast. Its top speed was 43 knots (49.5 miles per hour), but even its typical voyage speed of 34 knots (39.1 miles per hour) was enough to win it attention.

On its maiden voyage, it completed the eastbound Atlantic crossing from New York City to the Isles of Scilly off Great Britain in three days, 10 hours, and 40 minutes. That was more than 10 hours faster than the previous record holder, the Queen Mary, which is now moored in Long Beach, Calif. Even today, the Queen Mary 2 and Queen Victoria, the only passenger ships to regularly cross the North Atlantic on the same route, take about seven days. Days later on the return westbound trip, the United States made the journey in three days, 12 hours, and 12 minutes. It still holds the speed record for that route and it is the last ship to claim The Blue Riband in both directions.

Though passengers appreciated a fast ship, the United States was conceived during World War II when ships like the British-flagged Queen Mary transported thousands of soldiers from Canada, the United States, and Australia to Europe. The U.S. Navy wanted a troopship of its own for future wars, and thus the United States could be converted from carrying passengers to troops in just 48 hours. To guard against torpedoes or a Titanic-style disaster, the United States also had a compartmentalized design and dual engine rooms. And as precaution against fire, the use of wood was limited to just a few places on the ship. Instead, much of the structure and furnishings were made of aluminum. The abundance of metal may have made the ship sterile to luxury-seeking passengers, but it made it safer and lighter, which contributed to its speed.

In the end, however, the United States came along too late. By the mid 1950s, airplanes were carrying passengers across the Atlantic in only a number of hours. And by 1958, the Boeing 707, the first successful jet airliner, had entered service. The United States sailed until 1969 when it was withdrawn from the North Atlantic run. It never played a role as a troopship.

But even now as its fate looks grim, individuals and organizations are raising money to save the SS United States either by buying it themselves or seeking another bidder to refurbish it. The United States Conservancy estimated it needs $3 million to buy the ship and maintain it for two years. What's unclear, however, is what the organization plans to do with it after that time. Though it is on both the National and Pennsylvania Registers of Historic Places, the federal status doesn't provide any protection against the SS United States being sold to a ship breaker.

Setting Sail on a Haitian Pleasure Cruise

Newsweek

The moral and economic dilemmas of Royal Caribbean's Labadee Port.

In the weeks since the Jan. 12 earthquake that leveled Port-au-Prince, cruise ships full of mostly American tourists have continued to dock in Labadee, a private resort 60 miles north of Haiti's devastated capital city. "It was a bit surreal knowing that the center of the world's focus was only 100 miles away," says passenger Becky O'Connor, who visited the island on a recent cruise. On the television in her stateroom, Fox News broadcast the first airdrops over Port-au-Prince amid a background of apocalypse. Off the side of her balcony, she could see aid supplies—water, powdered milk, dried beans—being unloaded onto the pier and piled into trucks. But surrounding her and the other 3,000 or so passengers who had booked mid-January cruises on Royal Caribbean International (the only cruise line with a port in Haiti) were all the amenities one would expect of a luxury vacation. On board: 17 decks' worth of buffets, swimming pools, casinos, miniature golf, and a 1,200-seat theater. Ashore: a Dis-neyesque pseudotown with pristine beaches, lovely cabanas, and quaint cafés and shops.

At first, passengers were uneasy about the visit—mulling over safety concerns and discussing among themselves the ethical quandary of so much wealth and luxury amid such devastation. But by midday, most had overcome their reservations and were venturing ashore. "The idea to relax so close to the death and destruction was definitely awkward," says Daniel Melleby, another passenger. "But it became clear pretty quickly that the people there were very happy and relieved to see us."

While many have criticized the cruise line's decision to proceed with planned trips to the Haiti port just days after the quake, many more have argued that canceling scheduled stops would only hurt the already struggling Haitian economy. The passengers themselves have held both views. Some note surges of pride as they watched pallets of supplies being unloaded from the cruise ship, others say they spent more on local wares than they normally would have, and most describe the stop as more somber than others along the same route. "I believe it was the right decision to support Haiti financially," says one passenger, who gave her name only as Linda. "But I could not bring myself  to enjoy anything on Labadee." The ambivalence underscores what some say is a persistent, if not always obvious, uneasiness between wealthy vacationers and the struggling countries they like to frequent.

Labadee—a former slave plantation on the northern coast of Haiti, named for the Frenchman who settled it in 1600—is the only Haitian port open to cruise ships. In 1986 Royal Caribbean International leased the spot from the Haitian government and transformed it into a pri-vate resort, one of several stops along its Caribbean route. Last year, at the urging of President Bill Clinton, who traveled to Labadee to promote tourism in the region, the company spent $55 million upgrading the port to accommodate its newest fleet member, Oasis of the Seas, the world's largest passenger ship. The company made Labadee the ship's maiden destination.

After the earthquake, the Haitian government urged Royal Caribbean to proceed with its scheduled stops on the island. The company complied, and on Jan. 15 delivered nearly 40 pallets of food and water, along with roughly 3,000 tourists, who spent at least some of their money stimulating the local economy. More ships followed on the 18, 19, and 22; so far, the cruise line has brought nearly 400 pallets of ur-gently needed goods ashore. In addition, the company promised to donate all money made at the Labadee resort to the relief effort, at least until Feb. 1. Combined with passenger donations, they expect to reach $2 million in contributions. Royal Caribbean has also augmented an existing crew-welfare fund to provide up to $2,500 in grant money to any Haitian employee seeking to rebuild homes or find loved ones. Compassion leave has been extended from two weeks to indefinitely. But while no one disputes the value of sending food, water, and cash donations in the wake of a disaster, larger questions—about whether the company and its policies are the best option for Haiti—persist.

To be sure, Royal Caribbean is among Haiti's largest foreign investors. According to the company, it employs 200 locals at Labadee and allows another 300 to sell their wares on the premises. They also pay the Haitian government a "head tax" of $6 per tourist. With roughly 365,000 tourists visiting the site each year, that adds up to slightly more than $2 million in revenue for the beleaguered country, whose 2008 GDP was estimated at $6.9 billion. But critics say that a nonprivatized port could yield far more in publicity and profits for the local community. The tiny peninsula is currently sequestered from the surrounding area by a 10-foot-high fence and a private armed security force; passengers are not allowed to leave the property. And because the company owns all the restaurants and concession stations, most payments for food and beverages are made not in cash, but via room keys or cruise cards, which means no tips for employees.

Royal Caribbean is not the only company to turn a chunk of foreign land into a private tourist spot. Disney, Princess, and Norwegian Cruise Lines have each claimed various segments of beach in the Bahamas. Once bought or leased, experts say these tracts of land are typically recast as private beaches and staffed by private work-forces. "Unlike other port calls, on a private island [or in a private port like Labadee] the revenues and profits remain largely with the cruise line," says Ross Klein, a sociologist who has written three books about the cruise industry. "While it's quite profitable to the cruise line, the benefit to the local economy is relatively small and very limited."

The cruise industry in general has been subject to a rash of criticism over the years, for unfair labor practices, dismal environmental records, and shoddy safety practices. But Royal Caribbean Cruises has come under special criticism for its policies in Haiti. Labadee, with its high fences and armed guards, is far more closed off to the surrounding community than other resorts like it. And, as The Christian Science Monitor reported, advertisements for the port tend to avoid any mention of Haiti, describing it as a private island rather than as a peninsula contiguous with the rest of the country.

Given the scale of the current disaster, some passengers feel the company's contributions to the relief effort did not go far enough: "These ships hold thousands of customers and crew. They often have five different buffets at a time and huge amounts of food are wasted," writes one woman—who visited the port with her family last year—on an Internet listserv. "If Royal shut down just one eating option per boat and donated all the food, they could feed hundreds."

Still, most passengers and cruise enthusiasts seem to support Royal Caribbean's decisions: a company representative said that 85 percent of guests who docked at Labadee ultimately went ashore. And in a survey of some 4,700 people done by the Web site Cruise Critic, two thirds of respondents agreed with the company's decision to proceed with scheduled cruises. After all, as many have pointed out, Haiti was no oasis before the earthquake hit.