(This article originally appeared in the April 2023 issue of the South Baltimore Peninsula Post community newspaper.)
With two 16-cylinder engines rumbling below the deck of the tugboat Eric McAllister, Captain Byshe Hicks calls out to his mate to “Let ‘em go.”
With that, Todd Sauerwald flips the dock lines off their cleats and signals back with a thumbs up. Water foams up between the Locust Point dock and the boat, while Hicks eases the 98-foot-long tugboat away from the pier near Fort McHenry, spins her about, and follows her sister tug, the Timothy McAllister, out past the Fort toward the Francis Scott Key Bridge. The job on this chilly evening in late February is to guide a 10-story-high Wallenius Wilhelmsen vehicle carrier to her berth at the Dundalk Marine Terminal.
The Peninsula Post is onboard Captain Hicks’ tug to get a close-up look at this vital part of operations at the Port of Baltimore and a tugboat company based on the South Baltimore peninsula: McAllister Marine Towing.
McAllister’s three tugs, each named for a member of the McAllister family, currently handle about a third of the port’s ship-docking business, according to general manager Mike Reogoso.
The tugs dock at Pier 1 of the North Locust Point Terminal at the end of Wallace Street that runs alongside the front wall of Fort McHenry. They are all “ship-bumping” tugs, guiding ships to and from their berths throughout the several Port of Baltimore terminals on the Patapsco River. (Tugs are also used to move barges.)
New York-based McAllister has been in the shipping business since 1864, beginning with a single sailing vessel conveying cargo from ships to piers around New York. The company expanded into marine towing and ferry services throughout the U.S. East and Gulf coasts and the Caribbean. McAllister came to Baltimore in 1980, taking over the Baker Whiteley tugs, which had been working the harbor since 1878.
The big engines of steel-hulled tugboats can safely move the largest ships – up to 1,300 feet long – through wind, tide, and current to the pier where they are tied up by line handlers on the dock. They also get those same ships away from their berths and into a harbor’s navigable channels.
McAllister’s Baltimore tugs can muster from 4,000 to over 5,000 horsepower, each fired with twin Caterpillar diesel engines and 10,000 to 30,000 gallons of fuel carried onboard.
Unlike traditional vessels that are propeller driven and steered with a rudder, these tugs have a “Z Drive” propulsion system that both drives and steers the boat. Z Drives use one or more pods with a shrouded propeller that can rotate independently 360 degrees, providing swift and subtle changes in the tug’s direction and thrust.
McAllister tugs usually operate with a crew of four, although in a pinch they can get by with three: a captain, a mate, and one or two “deckineers” who handle both engineering and deckhand duties. The captain and the mate drive the boat, and the deckineers maintain the engines and handle the lines.
Tugs are designed for continuous occupation by a crew, with bunk rooms, bathrooms, and kitchen facilities onboard. The crews’ watches are six hours on, six off, keeping the boat in service 24/7 without wearing out the crew. McAllister’s boats are most active in the early morning and early evening. Crews work a two-week “hitch,” then are off for two weeks. Crews can leave the boats occasionally when business is slow. Most of McAllister’s current Baltimore mariners live locally.
McAllister’s tugboat crews push and pull three general types of ships around the Port of Baltimore: container ships, car ships, and “bulkers.” Container ships carry thousands of boxcar-size shipping containers filled with every kind of goods imaginable. They are most frequently docked at the Seagirt Marine Terminal near Dundalk where their containers are unloaded by giant cranes visible from Locust Point. Vehicle carriers bring all kinds of vehicles in and out of the Dundalk Marine Terminal and other vehicle terminals across the river in Fairfield. Bulkers carry bulk cargos such as gypsum, coal, chemicals, and salt in and out of the terminals in Canton and North Locust Point.
On this night, the tugboat Eric McAllister is headed for a vehicle carrier named Tijuca. As the tug approaches the FSK Bridge after a 25-minute ride downriver, Captain Hicks takes his vessel off automatic pilot and prepares to maneuver. The Tijuca’s docking pilot Shimon Horowitz comes over the radio as the massive ship draws near the bridge from the south.
“Security, security. Car ship Tijuca enroute to Dundalk Berth 9.”
Horowitz repeats his message so all local harbor traffic will be aware of his intentions and operate accordingly while ship and tugs sail the half mile in tandem to the dock.
A short time later, he gives his instructions to the two tugboats: “Timothy, port shoulder with a line. Eric, starboard quarter.”
Once the Tijuca has cleared the bridge, both tugs start moving alongside the ship, with the Timothy hooking its ship line to the forward part of the left side of the Tijuca and the Eric spinning about and sidling along the rear of the other side (starboard quarter). The Eric moves up against the ship, its heavy rubber fenders just touching the hull, and slides back into position just forward of the skyscraper-high rear stern of the ship.
The tugs ride along the ship until the Tijuca’s pilot instructs them to turn the vessel out of the channel toward the Dundalk Terminal.
The tugs push and pull the ship until it is perpendicular to the channel, then the pilot says, “Eric, come around to the port side and get a line up on the quarter.” The tug falls back behind the ship and sails over to the same side as the Timothy, but on the Tijuca’s “quarter,” just forward of the stern. The Eric edges along the hull into position. The mate goes forward, climbs up on the tug’s bow, secures a line to the Tijuca, and signals the bridge that they have been “made fast” by crossing his arms. With that mighty synthetic line tightened by the tug’s winch, the tug can push and pull the giant leviathan according to the docking pilot’s instructions.
“Eric’s all fast,” Captain Hicks relays to the Tijuca and slides his vessel into position to push the ship’s stern parallel to the dock, tightening the line with the winch. With the Timothy up forward pulling and the Eric pushing astern, the Tijuca is moved parallel to the pier. Then both tugs push it to its berth. Once in position at the berth, the line handlers on the dock tie up the ship.
With the Tijuca secure to the dock, the pilot says, “Ok, we’re finished. See you on the next one.”
The tug’s mate hustles down the deck and swings the ship line off the ship’s hull bit. Captain Hicks says, “Ok, Shimon. We’re good.”
It is dark out now, and the tugboat’s bridge is lit with red lights to preserve the crew’s night vision. Enroute back to Pier 1, Hicks calls the McAllister dispatcher.
“What were the times?”
“1745 and 1922. The next job is at 2030.” Layman’s translation: the tug left the pier at 5:45 pm and the Tijuca was docked at 7:22 pm, and the Eric is scheduled to meet up with the next ship at 8:30 pm.
Back at the Locust Point dock, the mate throws lines over the cleats and secures them to the tug’s bits with figure eight knots. The captain shuts the engines down. Both crewmen head to the galley to fix dinner before the next ship-bumping job of the night. – Mark Hannon
Mark Hannon is a retired firefighter living in Locust Point who worked on tugboats as a deckhand in the Port of Baltimore. His novel, The Vultures, was published in 2020. Visit markhannonbooks.com for more of his writing.
South Baltimore Peninsula Post 