the galley, mess, and pantries, and the small first-aid station. The uppermost decks housed the quarters for the ship’s first, second, and third officers, the chief engineer and his assistant, and the officers’ combined mess and wardroom. The uppermost deck contained the bridge; wing lookouts; a combined chart room and radio room, which contained the ship’s gyros and repeaters for all the electronic instruments used for navigation; and the captain’s relatively luxurious quarters, which consisted of a bedroom, a large bathroom, and separate sitting room. Just behind the bridge were the captain’s sea quarters where he bunked in emergencies when his presence was required around the clock, and which doubled as the ship’s office when customs and immigration officials came to inspect the ship’s papers and issue sailing clearances.
Directly below the superstructure were the engineering spaces where the ship’s two gas turbine engines were housed. The Apurto Devlán was less than five years old. She had been constructed in Cherbourg, France, and outfitted with the latest machinery and electronics, which not only took up less space, leaving more room for product, but which allowed the ship to make very fast, very safe transits with less crew, thus maximizing profit for GAC.
“My engines are in top form,” Chief Engineer Hiboshi Kiosawa told Graham. He was a very small, slightly built man, dressed this morning in spotless white coveralls, a very large smile on his narrow face. The ship’s
gas turbines had been built by Mitsubishi, the first marine engines the Japanese corporation had ever designed, and Kiosawa was justifiably proud. Most oil tankers were powered by single slow-turning diesels.
Vasquez had brought the personnel files, which he laid on the table in Graham’s sitting room, and then had introduced the chief engineer; First Engineering Officer Peter Weizenegger; Second Officer William Sozansky; and Third Officer George Novak.
“Gentlemen, I expect a quick, trouble-free passage,” Graham said. “What about our product load?”
“We have aboard fifty-two thousand long tons as of midnight that gives us a draft of thirty-seven feet, maximum for the canal,” Kiosawa said. His assistant engineer doubled as loadmaster while in port, but the ultimate responsibility lay with the chief engineer, who answered directly to the captain.
“Fire suppression?”
“All tanks have been topped and capped.”
They were carrying light sweet crude that constantly evaporated a host of complex hydrocarbons, all of which were extremely flammable or even explosive. Once the product had been loaded into the ship’s twelve separate cargo oil tanks, inert nitrogen gas was pumped in to replace the air in any free spaces, and the compartments were sealed. Even if a blowtorch were to be lit inside one of the tanks, nothing would happen. There was no oxygen to support a fire or explosion.
“All notices to mariners have been noted and logged?”
“Yes, sir,” Sozansky said. His primary duty was navigation officer.
“Diagnostics have been conducted on all our electronic equipment, including radar?”
“Yes, sir,” Kiosawa said. “We are ready in all respects for sea.”
“Very well,” Graham said. Oil tankers were infinitely less complex than the Trafalgar Class nuclear-powered submarines he had commanded in the Royal Navy. And with a crew of only nineteen aboard versus seven times as many to operate a submarine, personnel problems would be infinitely less complex.
In any event, before the Apurto Devlán left the second Gatun lock she would be a ghost ship, with a dead crew and no skipper. The ultimate solution to insubordination and dissention.
Graham smiled, and his officers visibly relaxed. “I would like to see my ship.”
“Yes, sir,” Vasquez said. “Would you like to start with the product spaces, or the engines?”
“First I want to meet the rest of my crew, and inspect their quarters and
Directly below the superstructure were the engineering spaces where the ship’s two gas turbine engines were housed. The Apurto Devlán was less than five years old. She had been constructed in Cherbourg, France, and outfitted with the latest machinery and electronics, which not only took up less space, leaving more room for product, but which allowed the ship to make very fast, very safe transits with less crew, thus maximizing profit for GAC.
“My engines are in top form,” Chief Engineer Hiboshi Kiosawa told Graham. He was a very small, slightly built man, dressed this morning in spotless white coveralls, a very large smile on his narrow face. The ship’s
gas turbines had been built by Mitsubishi, the first marine engines the Japanese corporation had ever designed, and Kiosawa was justifiably proud. Most oil tankers were powered by single slow-turning diesels.
Vasquez had brought the personnel files, which he laid on the table in Graham’s sitting room, and then had introduced the chief engineer; First Engineering Officer Peter Weizenegger; Second Officer William Sozansky; and Third Officer George Novak.
“Gentlemen, I expect a quick, trouble-free passage,” Graham said. “What about our product load?”
“We have aboard fifty-two thousand long tons as of midnight that gives us a draft of thirty-seven feet, maximum for the canal,” Kiosawa said. His assistant engineer doubled as loadmaster while in port, but the ultimate responsibility lay with the chief engineer, who answered directly to the captain.
“Fire suppression?”
“All tanks have been topped and capped.”
They were carrying light sweet crude that constantly evaporated a host of complex hydrocarbons, all of which were extremely flammable or even explosive. Once the product had been loaded into the ship’s twelve separate cargo oil tanks, inert nitrogen gas was pumped in to replace the air in any free spaces, and the compartments were sealed. Even if a blowtorch were to be lit inside one of the tanks, nothing would happen. There was no oxygen to support a fire or explosion.
“All notices to mariners have been noted and logged?”
“Yes, sir,” Sozansky said. His primary duty was navigation officer.
“Diagnostics have been conducted on all our electronic equipment, including radar?”
“Yes, sir,” Kiosawa said. “We are ready in all respects for sea.”
“Very well,” Graham said. Oil tankers were infinitely less complex than the Trafalgar Class nuclear-powered submarines he had commanded in the Royal Navy. And with a crew of only nineteen aboard versus seven times as many to operate a submarine, personnel problems would be infinitely less complex.
In any event, before the Apurto Devlán left the second Gatun lock she would be a ghost ship, with a dead crew and no skipper. The ultimate solution to insubordination and dissention.
Graham smiled, and his officers visibly relaxed. “I would like to see my ship.”
“Yes, sir,” Vasquez said. “Would you like to start with the product spaces, or the engines?”
“First I want to meet the rest of my crew, and inspect their quarters and
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