Texaco - The Early 70's

S/S Texaco Florida

On June 13, 1970 I joined the Texaco Florida as 3rd Mate in Providence, RI, at the Curran and Burton docks just south of the city.  Funnily enough, and luckily for me, the instructor who taught the basic tanker course at Kings Point had sailed on the Florida and based much of his course on that particular ship.  Built in 1956 in Newport News, the Florida measured 23,000 gross tons.  Capt. Eddy John George was my first skipper.  He was a character.  Arnold Hall, an old timer from Matthews County Virginia, was the Chief Mate.  The ship ran between Port Arthur, TX and ports in the Northeast.  The Florida was a primarily a clean oil ship although she did have several small lube oil tanks.

I spent two months on the Florida and remember the time well.  We nearly had a collision running southbound off the Florida Keys when an old freighter, the Ocean Transporter, didn't follow the Rules of the Road and failed to give way.  Because we were running parallel to and less than a mile off the reefs, there wasn't room for us to make a round turn to avoid collision.  We had to do a full ahead hard right / hard left maneuver to cut across her bow as she passed very close astern.  I don't believe there was anyone on watch because when I started blowing the danger signal, I could see people running up to the bridge.  If we hadn't blown our whistle, he would have run high and dry up on the reefs.  The next voyage, I saw the same vessel laid up in Port Neches, Tx.

I nearly got myself fired from my first ship. One trip into Bayonne, NJ, I made the mistake of bringing my wife-to-be onboard for a tour.  Capt. Eddy was smitten.  The whole trip south he talked about her.  Now Capt. Eddy could be crude at times and he was particularly crude about my fiancee.  At first his comments were humorous but when he saw he couldn't get a rise out of me, his comments got worse.  I happened to be on watch on arrival off Sabine Pass.  He had been on me about my fiancee already that morning but when he started to tell the river pilot about her in graphic detail, that put me over the top.  I lit into him then and there and called him every name in the book.  The pilot's mouth dropped open and the Chief Mate dragged me into the chartroom and told me I'd probably get fired.  Capt. Eddy did nothing and never brought the subject up again.  I guess he realized he'd crossed the line.

Port Arthur, TX was Texaco's home base.  There were 8 berths on Texas Island, 3 or 4 of them usually filled.  Texaco had 21 American Flag ships when I first joined the company.  At the end, in 1995, only 3 remained, the Georgia, Rhode Island and Massachusetts.  On my first voyage to Port Arthur, there was a package waiting for me from the local Chamber of Commerce extolling the benefits of living in the so-called Golden Triangle.  The package quickly made its way into the circular file.  Port Arthur had seen its better days.  Besides the Lions Den, a Walgreens and Monte's news stand, there wasn't much worth going ashore for.

In many ports, Texaco provided port relief mates and engineers who came aboard and stood sixteen hours of watches to give the regular crew a break.  One trip in Bayonne, NJ, after the port relief mate arrived, I went home for the day.  That evening, the headline television news story was an oil pollution incident involving the Texaco Florida.  It seemed that the local terminal had been replacing piping under their dock.  The ship was tied up on the North side of the pier and there was a warehouse that stretched the entire length of the pier that prevented one from seeing the other side.  The ship hooked up a cargo hose to its manifold and started discharging Fire Chief (Regular) gasoline.  Unbeknownst to those on the ship, the dock had hooked its end of the hose to a pipeline that had not been reconnected under the wharf.  For three hours, the ship pumped gasoline out the hose, into the shore pipeline and straight into the water on the South side of the pier.  Finally the dockman discovered the leak.  We wound up being there for three days.

I left the Texaco Florida in the same port I had joined, Providence.  A couple of days later I joined the Texaco Wyoming in Port Everglades, FL.  The trip down was eventful.  Because I was going to be on the Wyoming for less than a month, I chose to bring minimal clothing.  I decided to wear my work clothes and boots on the plane.  Airplane hijackings to Cuba were not uncommon in those days and the flights to Florida were prime targets.  While walking out on the runway toward the air stairs to board the plane (there were no jetways in those days), I was tapped on the shoulder by a government agent and brought to a room to be searched and questioned.  Apparently my work attire fit the profile of a hijacker.  After around thirty minutes, my identity was confirmed and I was allowed on the plane, which they had surprisingly held for me.  I guess I didn't look too spiffy because as I waited that afternoon on the pier in Port Everglades while the Wyoming docked,  the Chief Mate, Jim Howell, yelled down from the bow "Are you the 3rd Mate or the Ordinary Seaman?"

S/S Texaco Wyoming

 The Wyoming was a T2 tanker originally built in 1943 as the Buena Vista, renamed Wyoming in 1950 and later "jumboized" in 1961.  The captain on the Wyoming was Ed Quegan.  After finishing discharging in Port Everglades, he got orders to proceed to Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela.  We had a fill-in Radio Operator whose job description included preparing ship's paperwork.  He was inexperienced and not familiar with foreign customs and immigration forms.  Unfortunately, Capt. Quegan was also not familiar with the forms, having always left the job to his regular Radio Operator. We anchored on arrival.  Customs and Immigration came aboard and didn't like the way the forms had been completed.  The forms had to be redone several times before they were accepted and we wound up losing a full day to the paperwork.  The oil terminal was around 15 minutes from town.  There was a nice beach and the beer was cold but other than that, I found the town unremarkable.  Our discharge port was Wilmington, NC where I went on vacation. The Wyoming was sold in 1972 and scrapped in 1974.  I did not sail on her again.

Many of Texaco's American flag ships loaded at Gulf Coast ports and discharged USNH (U.S. North of Hatteras).  So how do you get there from here?  Well, a voyage from the Gulf to Northeastern ports took roughly 5 days each way, berth to berth.  Counting port time, a round trip took around 2 weeks.  Northbound, you wanted to ride the Gulf Stream current as long as possible.  Southbound, you wanted to avoid bucking the Gulf Stream.  One common Southbound route was to head from Cape Hatteras to Matanilla Shoal north of the Bahamas, then cut over to Jupiter Inlet Light, turn south along the coast past Hillsboro Light and on down to the Florida Keys.  Before the threat of pollution altered courses ships were permitted to take when transiting the Florida Straits, we used to sail as close as one mile off the reefs, again trying to avoid the Gulf Stream and maybe catch a counter-current going with us.  There are a series of navigation lights along the reefs - Fowey Rocks (off Miami), Pacific Reef, The Elbow, Carysfort Reef, Molasses Reef, Alligator Reef, Sombrero, American Shoal, Sand Key (off Key West), Rebecca Shoal, and Tortugas.  Navigation was basic - visual bearings and radar ranges being the norm.  It was always interesting on the weekends when, wind and weather permitting, thousands of pleasure boats lined the way.  You quickly learned not to alter course when approaching pleasure craft.  If you changed course for one and the others noticed, you'd have to change course for all and steer a zig-zag all watch long.  Better to continue on a straight course and let them move for you, which they always did. 

Texaco's policy toward young mates and engineers was to put them on as many ships as possible to get a broad experience on the different types of vessels in the fleet. My next ship was another jumboized T2 - the "Mighty Minnie," and definitely different from the Wyoming..  Built in 1943 as the Churubusco, she was renamed Minnesota in 1950 and Texaco Minnesota in 1960.  She was scrapped in 1989.  The most interesting thing about the Minnie was that there were no pipelines on deck; they were all located in the tanks.  She was constructed with 2 sets of 3 tanks across on the foredeck and 3 sets of 3 tanks across on the after deck.  Having only 15 total tanks and no pipelines on deck made for an easy-functioning layout. We carried clean oils from Port Arthur, TX and Pilottown, LA up to the Northeast ports from Philly to Portland.  The captain for most of my 3 months on board was Harry Cannell, a former docking pilot who had recently returned to sea.  We got along well.  Unfortunately, Harry's next assignment was as Chief Mate on the Texaco Oklahoma which broke in two and sank on March 27, 1971, resulting in his loss as well as the lives of 30 other good men.  The second mates during my time on the Minnie were Don Sinclair, who became a Sabine pilot after leaving Texaco, and Wilbur Anderson.

On one voyage into White Fuel, South Boston, my wife wanted to fly up to visit.  We were only going to be in for 16 hours but a port relief mate was provided so I said fine and we made arrangements to meet at the Logan Airport hotel.  The ship docked right on time and I caught a cab to the airport.  When I asked at the hotel reception desk for my wife, they told me she hadn't checked in.  There were flights every hour from Newark so I figured she'd be on the next flight.  I waited in the lobby for over 4 hours, went up to the desk multiple times and was repeatedly told she was not there.  I finally phoned my mother-in-law to find out where my wife was.  She told me she was at the airport hotel and had just called.  I went back to the front desk and leaned over to look at the guest check-in cards, which were clearly visible.  I immediately saw my wife's name.  I was fuming and gave the clerk a piece of my mind.  He wasn't very apologetic and I wound up having to speak with the manager about the clerk making me wait in the lobby for 4 hours when my wife was there the whole time.  They gave us a free bottle of wine for dinner - big whoop.  My wife made several more trips to Boston over the years but we never stayed at the airport hotel again.

SS Texaco Minnesota

My time on the Minnie went very well for 2 3/4 months, then the permanent captain rejoined from vacation.  He had a bad reputation and was rumored to carry papers with him attesting to his sanity.  Oh boy.  We did not get along at all.  Unfortunately, at that time there were some old-time captains who just didn't like academy graduates and, being one, I couldn't do anything right in his eyes.  My last week on board was pure hell.  I was scheduled to go on vacation in Eagle Point, NJ (across the river from Philly) on February 14th.  I remember it well because it was Valentine's Day.  Our docking time was expected to be around 0100.  The captain had already given me my seaman's discharge papers and told me my relief would be waiting on the dock and to be packed and off the ship as soon as possible.  We made very good speed up the Delaware River and it looked like we'd be docked before midnight.  Just to prove how much of a hard-ass he was, the captain made a big show out of having me give back my discharge dated Feb 14th and issuing me a new one dated Feb 13th.  He ripped up the first one in front of everyone on the bridge, saying I wasn't getting another day's pay.  Well, our docking pilot had the nickname "slow bell" and he lived up to his name that night.  He took too long to approach the dock and missed the ebb tide.  He then had to turn the ship around and dock facing down river.  We wound up being all fast at 0015.  To get even with the captain, I told him it was now Feb 14th and to please give me a discharge for that date.  There was nothing he could do but type out a new one.  I was off the ship by 0030, new discharge and another day's pay in hand.  Six years later, the same captain asked me to sail as his Chief Mate.  I refused and never sailed with him again.  Most of the Texaco captains I sailed with were true professionals and fine people.  The very few that weren't were beasts to sail with.  There seemed to be no in between.

The sinking of the Texaco Oklahoma, mentioned above, happened during my vacation time.  When my vacation was up, I was assigned to the Texaco Mississippi.  The Mississippi was originally built as a T-2 by Sun Shipbuilding, Chester, PA as the South Mountain in 1944 and jumboized at Newport News in 1964.  Leo Brennan was the Captain, Jim Leppek the Chief Mate and Brad Towne the 2nd Mate.  I joined in Port Arthur and we shifted up to the Beaumont Shipyard where Jim Leppek moved up to Captain when Leo Brennan went on vacation.  In wake of the Oklahoma tragedy, Texaco put many of its ships into various shipyards to have them checked out structurally.  I was only on board the Mississippi for a little more than a week before being temporarily assigned to the New York office, where I spent the next 7 months.  I was fortunate to live an hour's commute from New York City so the assignment was pretty good.  I took the train to Penn Station, changing in Newark, then walked 20 minutes over to the Chrysler Building.  Texaco was generous enough to pay for my commuting costs which was much appreciated.  The only drawback was that my wife and I had already scheduled a summertime trip to Switzerland and Bavaria based on when I was next due for vacation.  The assignment to the New York office threw off my vacation schedule and we had to cancel the trip.  We vowed to re-book our Switzerland trip but didn't make it there until 2004, only 33 years later.

I shared an office with Harry Pappas, the assistant port captain.  The manager of the marine office at the time was Dick Willoch.  Tom Merrill was the port captain.  Other local seafarers assigned to the office at the time were Mike Brown, Dick Halluska and Chip Wimperis.  Much of our time was spent updating the office navigation charts and port information binders.

Capt. Stan Brownley was temporarily assigned to the office on a special project - going through the Oklahoma's cargo files and recalculating the loading stresses on the ship.  I spent many days working with Capt Stan on this project.  The importance of stress calculations stayed with me over the years.  When I was Chief Mate, each voyage I would calculate the stress on many different cargo layouts and try to get the sag factor as low as possible.

SS Texaco New Jersey

After Texaco's fleet had been checked out structurally and was fully operational again, I left the office assignment and joined another T2, the Texaco New Jersey.  Built as the Lake Erie in 1944 at Sun Shipbuilding, Chester, PA, The New Jersey was jumboized in 1959 at Alabama Drydock and was about 2,000 Gross Tons smaller than the other Texaco T2's.  Therefore, she called at ports to which larger ships couldn't, Gregory, TX and Fall River, MA being two of them.  The New Jersey was also able to use South Pass to and from the Mississippi River instead of Southwest Pass where the deeper-draft ships had to transit.  We were the first American ship, and second ship overall, to call at Yabucoa, Puerto Rico.  While anchored off of Yabucoa awaiting berth, one of our Ordinary Seamen, an Alaskan named Wnuk, caught a 10 foot shark and hung it up on the poop deck boom.  He cut out some of its teeth as souvenirs.  The New Jersey was a black oil ship.  We carried #6 oil, bunker fuel C, to power plants in the northeast.

When I joined, Joe Welch was captain.  My watch mates included Horace Guidry and Marshall Nance, who claimed to be the brother of Boston Patriots player "Big Jim" Nance. When Capt. Welch went on vacation, his replacement was an old-timer who had a drinking problem.  He lived in New England and always went home from Fall River.  He would be sober on the northbound trip, looking forward to going home.  When he returned to the ship from home, he was usually three sheets to the wind and stayed that way for 2 or 3 days.  Often the Chief Engineer would join in the partying.  One voyage, after leaving Boston, he was particularly soused.  It was foggy so we were blowing the whistle one prolonged blast every two minutes. When I came on watch at 2000, we were just clearing Cape Cod.  The seas were flat calm.  Texaco had recently installed new 3 cm Decca radars which were very sensitive and picked up everything.  The captain was on the bridge sleeping in his chair.  Every ten or fifteen minutes, he would wake up and say "Third, if you see a target on the radar, stop the ship and blow the danger signal."  Then he'd doze off again.  After a couple hours of this, he finally went below.  In those days, a Russian fishing fleet would often park itself just outside the 12 mile limit.  It was common knowledge that some of these ships were spy ships.  These Russian fleets were a nightmare to navigate through.  It was better to change course to avoid them altogether.  Right before the end of my watch that night, the radar started picking up multiple targets close by.  Thinking we had run into the fishing fleet, I started changing course.  Then more targets would appear.  When the Second Mate, Joe Halloran, came up to relieve the watch, I was way off course.  I showed Joe the targets and passed on what the captain's orders were.  Joe, nicknamed "race horse" for his penchant for going to the track, was a real easy going guy and took the situation in stride.  He had been with these new sensitive radars before.  He brought the ship back around to the original course and ignoring the targets, plowed ahead.  I stuck around on the bridge with him until it cleared up.  When it did, we could see what was causing the radar targets.  It wasn't fishing boats at all, but multiple fishing buoys fitted with radar reflectors.  Normally our radars wouldn't pick them up but it was so calm, they showed up.

The New Jersey called at Fall River regularly.  The port relief mate from Boston would come down to cover the first 16 hours of watches which worked out really well for me because I always got 2 watches off.  Fall River was a port that required daytime docking and undocking.  We always docked in the evening then sailed two days later in the morning. My wife came up to visit frequently, often bringing lottery tickets for the crew, New Jersey being one of the few states to have a lottery in those days.  She'd fly to Providence and take the bus from there.  We'd stay in the Holiday Inn.  There was an Anderson Little outlet in Fall River so we managed to shop for clothes most trips.

Jersey girl in Salem, MA

Several trips later, we were headed to Boston but got last minute orders to go to Salem instead.  My wife was planning on coming to Boston.  Never having been to Salem, I didn't know where to tell my wife to stay so I called the marine operator and her her look up hotels in Salem.  She gave me a number which I called.  An elderly lady answered and I made the reservation.  She said it was a nice place to stay.  I called my wife and told her to just take a cab from Logan airport to Salem. We docked at midnight.  I grabbed a cab to the hotel only it turned out to not be a hotel.  It was a B and B and my wife was sitting outside on the curb in tears.  The owners were an elderly couple and went to bed early.  They gave my wife a key and told her she had to wait for me outside.  She'd been sitting on the curb for 2 hours before I got there.  The trip started out bad but turned out good.  We stayed in Salem for 2 days and did some sightseeing - the House of Seven Gables, the local maritime museum, etc.  We even went to Boston for a fancy dinner one night.  I brought my wife down to the ship.  The new Second Mate, Rick Schultheis told my wife she looked like Ali McGraw which made her day.

Typical Engine Order Telegraph

My next ship was the Texaco Montana, affectionately dubbed "Queen of the Fleet" by J.K. Manry, her permanent captain.  I had met Capt. Manry before when he was on temporary assignment visiting other ships in the fleet as a roving safety manager.  He was a jovial man and I enjoyed sailing with him.  Other shipmates on the Montana included Chief Mate / Relieving Captain Ed Kitchens, 2nd Mate Jeff Ling, and Engineers Virgil Forman and Leroy Smith.  Virgil Forman was quick to dub me with the nickname "Lowlead," a take-off on my last name and the gasoline cargo we frequently carried before the days of Lead Free gas.  The Montana and Rhode Island were the two newest ships in the fleet and as such had engine control consoles on the navigating bridge.  Normally, when a ship wanted to change speed, it was signaled by engine order telegraph to the engine room where the Engineer on watch would adjust the rpm's as necessary.  On the Montana, the Mate on watch could change the engine rpm's from the bridge by just turning a dial.  One had to be careful not to make the adjustment too quickly so as not to put too much strain on the ship's boilers.

SS Texaco Montana - "Queen of the Fleet"

The Montana was built in 1965 at Sparrows Point (Baltimore).  She measured 26,564 DWT and was 604 feet long. She drew 34'11" fully loaded and could average over 17 knots.  Her runs were similar to those I had been on before, Gulf Coast ports to USNH.  I had good watch mates, AB's Frank Cady and Norman Griffith and OS Horace Guidry, who I had sailed with on the New Jersey.  I was fortunate to sail on the Montana many times over the years.

Our usual ship assignments lasted 3 months.  I only spent 1 month on the Montana before I was transferred to the Texaco Georgia.  The Georgia was a lube oil ship and the Company didn't want to put an inexperienced 3rd Mate there so they switched me and put a newly hired mate on the Montana. Chris Peterson was the Captain when I joined.  Brad Towne and Ambrose Peterson were the other two mates.  We made one trip up the East Coast then got orders for Guayama, Puerto Rico.  We could not locate Guayama on the charts, Guayanilla yes but no Guayama, so the Captain didn't know which side of Puerto Rico to head for.  We were halfway there before it was clarified - we were to load at Las Mareas, which is apparently near the town of Guayama.  The voyage down was eventful as we ran smack into a nasty winter storm.  We slowed down to where we were barely making way and rode out the storm as best we could.  Hurricane force winds and 50 foot seas off of Cape Hatteras made for an unpleasant couple of days.  I thought Capt. Peterson did a very professional job handling the ship through the storm.

After loading at Las Mareas, we proceeded to Port Arthur to load lubes for the West Coast.  Capt. Peterson was replaced by Capt. McCulley, the Commodore of the fleet.  Capt. McCulley was a real stickler for detail, specially in regard to log book entries.  He insisted that All Fast, Tugs Away, Gangway Out and FWE all be the same entry.  I remember there being a problem rigging the gangway in Long Beach, CA.  We must have been tied up for half an hour but he wouldn't let me ring off the engines.  The tug boats kept calling on the VHF to be released and the engineers below called as well wanting to know what the delay was.  It was all caused by what I would politely call a captain's quirk.  We all have them I suppose.  The highlight of my time on the Georgia was an unexpected visit in Long Beach by John and Patti McConnico, who drove down from Fresno.  It was always nice to see family.  We went to Disneyland.

SS Texaco New York

My next assignment was on the Texaco New York.  Originally built in 1953 by Newport News Shipbuilding, the New York was a 20,000 DWT two-house tanker.  In 1972, she was reconfigured at Maryland Drydock to a one-house ship.  The midships house was cut off and placed on top of the after house and an entire new fore-body constructed. The capacity was increased to 42,000 DWT and the ship's overall length increased to 723 feet.  The steady captain was Harry Mousetis, affectionately known as Harry One X, a wonderful, old-time, true-blue Kings Pointer who even lived in the town of Kings Point.  Like many seafarers, myself included, he had his idiosyncrasies;  He was in great physical shape and liked to show off to harbor pilots by doing handstands on the bridge wing.  The Chief Mate was Bruce Calhoun.  Bruce wound up being the person I sailed with the most during my seagoing career.  Our paths crossed frequently.  I couldn't have asked for a better shipmate.  Anyway, I'll never forget one of my early experiences with Bruce.  The captain developed a toothache on a northbound voyage to Eagle Point (Philadelphia).  He called his dentist and made an appointment based on our estimated docking time.  We had a slower than normal trip across the Gulf of Mexico so when we got into the Gulf Stream, he decided to speed up.  I'm not an engineer so I may not have the nozzle configuration exactly right but at full speed on those ships, the engine was designed to use 25 nozzles.  Capt. Harry had the engineers go up to 28 nozzles and then up to 32 nozzles which was the absolute maximum engine capacity.  I'm certain we burned a lot of extra fuel but the weather was cooperative and we flew up the coast.  Harry wouldn't even let the Delaware River pilot reduce speed in the river and we carried sea speed past Marcus Hook and all the way up to where we met the docking tugs off Mantua Creek.  After the tugs were tied up alongside and we approached the dock, Capt. Harry called Bruce from his docking station on the bow to the bridge to relieve him while he went down below to change.  As the ship came alongside, Harry appeared on deck in a shiny green sharkskin suit.  He paced back and forth on the deck.  Bruce turned to me and said "He looks like an organ grinder's monkey."  It was a funny but inappropriate comment and, as I learned over the years, very typical of Bruce's sometimes-acerbic sense of humor.  When we were close enough, Capt. Harry stood up on the side rail, lept over to the dock and took off running down the pier.  The Eagle Point Marine Superintendent just happened to be walking down the pier heading for the ship.  They had a brief encounter.  I don't know what was said but, obviously, it was highly irregular for a captain to be running away from his ship while it was docking.  Harry made it to the dentist on time.

Sailing from Eagle Point that trip we had an unusual occurrence.   We were nearly struck by an Air Force jet whose pilot had apparently lost control.  There were several jets flying low but in formation.   One started to dive and passed immediately in front of our bow.  Just before it hit the water, the pilot pulled the jet out of its dive.  Being on watch on the bridge, I had a good view of the whole incident.  The plane was clearly lower than our fore mast, no more than 50 feet above the river, when the pilot regained control.  We passed over the airplane's wake in a matter of seconds after it pulled up.  I have to believe this was totally accidental because I can't imagine a pilot purposely pulling such a Kamikaze stunt on an American ship in an American port.

Captain Harry went on vacation and was replaced by Ed Kitchens, who I had previously sailed with on the Montana.  He took a liking to my wife's chocolate chip cookies, which she brought to the ship whenever we were in port.  One trip, while anchored in New York Harbor, I rode the Stapleton launch ashore to home for the afternoon, bringing the empty cookie tin with me so I could get a refill.  Customs agents, stationed at the launch, occasionally checked items being brought ashore.  They were particularly concerned with the cookie crumbs in my tin, thinking the ingredients might have contained drugs.  After sampling the cookie remnants, they confirmed they were indeed chocolate chip cookies and commented that my wife was a good cook.

I was on the New York during the gas shortage of 1973, only there wasn't really a gas shortage.  On several voyages, we anchored in New York Harbor for extended periods of time loaded with full cargoes of gasoline and no place to discharge, all the shore gasoline storage tanks in the area being full. One voyage, after completion of discharge, we cleaned tanks and went up the Hudson River to load fresh water for the refinery in Trinidad.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time on the New York.  I spent most of my free time preparing for my Second Mate's license and Capt Harry, Capt Kitchens and Bruce were ready, willing and able to answer any study questions I had.