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When ships are run by computers that can plot the course, set the speed according to sea conditions, load and unload tanks, and even diagnose a sick sailor's ailment, the inevitable result is boredom. The scraping and painting that busied generations of seamen are no longer necessary. The Europoort, for example, is coated with 600 tons of nearly impervious paint that requires a cosmetic fix only once every two years. Seasickness, which used to keep novice seamen running for the rail, is only a memory. The huge beam of the VLCCs—close to 200 ft.—makes them extremely stable, even in rough storms. Faced with up to four months at sea, Europoort's crewmen complain that the money ($300 a month) does not compensate for the monotony. More and more, oil companies are finding it difficult to hire qualified men.
Along with ennui, tankermen are prey to fleeting fears. In the past two months, mysterious explosions have sunk three tankers off the coast of Africa. Last week four crewmen were killed when a Swedish tanker blew up in a Hamburg drydock. Loaded, the Europoort carries enough oil to pollute beaches from Holland to Spain, though Esso strictly bans any ocean discharges except in dire emergencies. Empty, the ship is as potentially explosive as nitroglycerin, with a rich mixture of oxygen and oil fumes in its massive tanks. To prevent inadvertent explosions, a Japanese company has designed an automatic system that forces inert, nonflammable gas into emptying tanks, thus displacing oil fumes. But such devices are not yet in general use.
Parachute Brake. Empty or full, VLCCs are so underpowered (to save building costs) that Europoort, for one, needs two hours to hit top speed of 16.5 knots. As a further result, the behemoths are plagued with the problem of stopping, which can take up to ten miles. By "slaloming," or steering hard port and then hard starboard, with engines full astern in open water, VLCCs can stop within two miles. Japan's Mitsubishi Heavy Industries is now testing a special parachute that it hopes can cut a tanker's stopping distance by onefourth. But with bigger and bigger tankers (perhaps up to 1,000,000 tons) on the drawing boards, such safeguards may be canceled out.
Fortunately, VLCC skippers are among the world's best-trained ship captains. Despite his seven years' previous experience as a tanker master, Europoort's Huib Jansen was not allowed to take command until he attended a "captain's school" in Grenoble, France, site of the 1968 Winter Olympics. There, in a 40-ft. boat, he was pushed around a man-made lake by a minuscule half-horsepower engine, maneuvering his craft with his eyes at the same level he now gets from the bridge of the Europoort. "It looks rather foolish with all of us out there in these boats during the daytime," he says. "But at night, when all practicing captains are using only their running lights and we're trying to move those models with that tiny engine, it is very much the real thing." After Grenoble, he served aboard a smaller VLCC before assuming command of the Europoort.