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A VIEW FROM THE CHAIR STATISTICS MASK PERSONAL TRAGEDIES BY DAVID LEDSON David Ledson, the chairman of the Maritime New Zealand Authority, adds his perspective to the changes taking place at Maritime NZ E veryone who goes out to the sea has sea stories – or "salty dits" – ready to spin. One of mine comes from my time around 1977 or 1978 on board HMNZS Otago, a Type 12 frigate. We were taking part in an exercise with the United States and other navies and one night we were scheduled to conduct a replenishment at sea, known as an RAS, and take some fuel from, I think, a Canadian Navy tanker. The aim in any RAS such as this is for the frigate to approach the tanker at six to eight knots up on her speed, aiming to end around 48m off her refuelling point. At the appropriate point the frigate does a "fast back down", where the telegraphs are moved to "stop", the shafts are locked and speed is reduced at the rate of nine metres/knot rather than the usual 36m. When the frigate's speed has reduced to a knot or so above the tanker's, the telegraphs are moved to "half ahead" and the revolutions adjusted to maintain the right relative position to the tanker. On this particular occasion I was on the bridge as the navigator, transferring the captain's orders to the helmsmen and providing navigational advice. We were about 180 miles south of Hawaii, I have a small number of other stories from my time in the Navy that ended badly and in tears, and I spend more time thinking about those than I do telling them. Of course we all wish every story ended with "… and they lived happily ever after". But, as the Christmas holiday period at sea and on the water has demonstrated, while most will, sadly, a number won't. Awful things do happen to people who don't deserve them. As I looked back at the holiday period I was struck by a sense that characterising the deaths in terms of a defined period risks them being considered as statistics along the lines of, "the stats for the Christmas Holiday period are… ", rather than as individual tragedies, rippling out and shaking the lives of many people beyond those often described as the victim or the deceased. A short period and statistics don't necessarily provide either the best insights into why it happened, and what do need to do to reduce the risk it will happen again, or a powerful force to change attitudes, behaviour and culture to respond to that risk. … when each statistic represents a family and community struck by loss, it is clear we must work together to improve our safety record heading toward the tanker in quite a steep sea at 22 knots, with the RAS party of sailors sheltering on the foc's'le behind the for'ard breakwater. As we approached the tanker's stern, a shudder ran through Otago and she paused momentarily, flicking the sea off in much the same way as a wet dog shakes itself dry, and continued toward our RAS position. The relative quiet on the bridge was disturbed by the sudden arrival of the chief petty officer who was in charge of the sailors on the foc's'le. He advised the captain we had taken a large wave and two men were missing. His message immediately transformed a relatively straightforward exercise, although one with risk, into a potential tragedy. We were all very fortunate on this occasion. The two men, who had been picked up by the wave and dumped over the guard rail, survived without any major injuries. One of them was spotted and recovered by a helicopter from another ship. The other was sighted in the beam of a searchlight of a ship stationed astern of the tanker to cover this sort of risk, and known as "the lifeguard ship". We were told he tried desperately to scramble up that beam of light which had settled on him out of the darkness and saved his life. So this story has a happy ending. 28 Professional Skipper March/April 2012 Reflecting on a longer period can be more useful and compelling, and turning the statistics into individual stories provides the emotional connection that seems to encourage people to "sign up" to change rather than be "regulated" into it. Every one of these tragedies occurs in the context of an accident. There are two general categories of accidents: those that happen, notwithstanding that everyone has done the right things; and those that happen because someone has done the wrong thing or made the wrong decision. As far as the first category is concerned, all we can do is acknowledge the marine environment has a moody and wanton nature. So there will always be an element of risk we cannot control. As to the second, that is where Maritime New Zealand and those who choose to go out to sea and into our waterways come together into the "safety space". Of all the things that enable us to work constructively and collaboratively in that space, it is especially important that we have a common and shared understanding of the risks and their nature, and that steps are taken that are needed to reduce the risks to a level we all agree is an "acceptable" one. I think we are all together on both these points. I think, too, most of us would acknowledge that while the "soft side" of regulation works with most people, in some cases the "hard edge" needs to be applied and there will be a very few who have no interest in joining any team. Whatever your position may be, when each statistic represents a family and a community struck by loss, it is clear we must work together to improve our safety record. Every one of us, either here in Maritime New Zealand or who go out on the water, has a critical part to play in this important work. Unless we all take responsibility for this endeavour, Maritime NZ's vision of "a vibrant, viable maritime community that works and plays safely and securely on clean waters" stands little chance of being transformed from words to reality. That would be a pity.