Post by ferryfast admin on May 11, 2005 18:40:58 GMT -5
Fast ferries fine ferries
Monday, May 09 2005 @ 02:41 PM MDT
Contributed by: BC Mary
I've been reading up on the PacifiCats recently, because the West Coast media got me wondering. When CanWest news declares something is terribly awful and bad ... is it?
The story of British Columbia's Fast Cat Ferries is exciting reading, running the whole range of emotions from triumph to despair, from pride to rage to depression.
Shakespeare would have seized such a dramatic theme and called his flagship stage play "PacifiCat Explorer." The king who launched these ships might have been stabbed through the heart but the cruel villain would certainly have caught a terrible disease and rotted a slow and painful death by the time the curtain fell.
Act 1, Scene 1, 1982, San Francisco.
A conference paper is presented by Paul Hercus outlining the virtues of high-speed catamaran ferries. He described them as:
* simple to build
* requiring standard diesel engine technology
* simple propellers
* affordable to own, operate, and travel on.
North America became the testing ground for high speed ferry, commuter, and tourist transport. Such backwaters (I'm thinking like a CanWest editor now) as Boston, New York, Florida, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Washington State had tried hydrofoils, hovercrafts, the Boeing Jetfoil, the Surface Effect Craft and "Exotically-powered Monohulls" all of which were complex, experimental, unsatisfactory, and expensive, given the results achieved. But (returning to sanity) that's what happens when embarking on a new technology: innovation -> prototypes -> testing -> start over.
Scene 2.
The first Catamaran was delivered to Washington State in 1984 and operated between Long Beach and Catalina during the Olympics, with faster crossings and good response from the public.
This vessel then went to Alaska for successful tourist service in Prince William Sound. Another catamaran operated in Puget Sound for many years between Seattle and Alderbrook Resort before being sold for operation between Oakland, Alameda and San Francisco. Another catamaran was then purchased for sightseeing around San Francisco Bay.
So Act 1 has established that the high-speed catamaran was not only accepted world-wide but had become a craze because of its simplified technology. Customers were lining up for shipyards capable of building them. British Columbia was ideally situated.
Act 2:
Fjellstrand, one of the first new overseas designs to sell, inaugurated Clipper Navigation's service between Seattle and Victoria. At this point in the report, "Fifteen years of Fast Ferries in North America," it shows the basis for B.C.'s decision to enter this proven industry and it was good.
Other catamarans had begun service in Hawaii, the Caribbean, Puerto Rico, as troop transport in the Marshall Islands, on the Great Lakes, and one fast ferry which docked at the foot of Wall Street in New York. The king's decision seemed wise as well as good. [Applause, applause.]
There was a set-back, however, before B.C. Ferries entered the scene. 1987 brought a Wall Street crash which was felt world-wide.
As interest rates rose, businesses stopped investing in new projects. This didn't affect the Fast Ferry industry until 1990 when aluminum prices began to rise, and wash problems were being documented in Rich Passage, between Seattle and Bremerton. Mono-hulls produced even greater wash. But Washington State Ferries kept testing and found that their two Fast Cats with longer, more slender hulls produced much less wash.
However, that process of testing took several years, so orders were held up for that reason. These setbacks are inevitable in a new technology but the outlines of a coming Shakespearean tragedy are forming.
Act 3. 1994
A new boom in Fast Ferries begins and U.S.A. is looking for new vessels. British Columbia's N.D.P. government takes the giant step forward and calls for "Expressions of interest" from marine designers around the world.
B.C.'s expressed aim is written in: "To put together the best possible team to design and construct a car- and passenger-carrying ferry system which would bring the greatest economical benefit not only to B.C. Ferries but to B.C. as a whole."
BC. ferries received 22 proposals, 14 of which were for catamarans. They chose the one best suited and granted the design contract to International Catamaran (Incat) of Sydney, Australia and to Canadian naval architects Robert Allan Ltd., in December 1994.
British Columbia was nicely placed for a booming market ... which, by 1998, would see a virtual explosion of Fast Cat building.
Act 4, Scene 1. Vancouver, B.C.
PacifiCats, as they were now called, were being watched closely, for two particular reasons (as well as a secretive 3rd reason).
* B.C. wanted to train its own skilled workforce,
* B.C. wanted to build its own aluminum facility.
Although very few citizens could have been expected to understand, at the time, how this tragedy would unfold, there were also:
* powerful people in British Columbia who wanted the Fast Cat project to fail.
Our first clue (would Shakespeare have written a song to ridicule such a low ambition?) was the name the enemies chose. These beautiful B.C.-built ships were to become known, the rascals hoped, as the Fast Ferry Fiasco.
Act 4, Scene 2.
"All expectations were met" when the first PacifiCat Explorer was launched in 1998. By the time PacifiCat Discovery was launched in 1999, and PacifiCat Voyager in 2000, the cost for all 3 ships had gone from the expected $250 million to $450 million and the media went mad.
"Extreme public scrutiny" dogged every move. But others pointed out (to no avail) that the simple cost of having trained those workers in regular classrooms would have equaled this price. Somehow the media didn't want to know.
"... the revitalized [B.C.] shipbuilding industry should feel particularly proud of their achievements," concluded the 15-page report by Ben Hercus. "The future of Fast Ferries in North America could, at last, be considered safe and secure" as, by 1998, no less than 27% of the world's 59 Fast Cats had been built in North America. And B.C. shipyards were now ready to build more.
If this really had been a Shakespeare play, the stage now would darken as the king collapses on the floor with a dagger in his back; in the background, there would be a shipyard is in flames. The villain, in a smooth business suit, swaggers to take over the throne as the curtain slowly comes down.
The end.
Many British Columbians simply couldn't believe that anyone would be so evil as to deliberately set out on a campaign of falsehoods to wipe out the government they had voted into power.
Nobody could imagine British Columbian leaders actually destroying a proud B.C. industry. But the Oligarchy felt they had to create the tragedy so that they -- and they alone -- could "save" us. It was the price we paid for them to take over the government.
The truth only began to dawn when the PacifiCats were put up for sale. The Oligarchy didn't want the ships to be sold, either. They wanted no redeeming feature to remain. The barrage of insults intensified.
Who would buy a used car if everybody in town screamed that it was a "fiasco"? Who could risk using the fast cats as public ferries or for tourist cruises if they had been denounced as terrible ships?
Even as scrap metal, the 3 ships were worth $60 million. But in the end, with no other buyers daring to show up, the 3 beautiful PacifiCats sold to the Washington Marine Group for $17 million. It was beyond a pity.
But Fate would give one more proof to British Columbia, perhaps hoping we'd wake up to the danger. Or perhaps the Oligarchy simply stopped being subtle.
When new ships were needed for the B.C. Ferries fleet, our own "revitalized shipbuilding industry" -- which had built the beautiful big B.C. Ferries "Spirit" ships -- did not get the contracts. Nor were B.C. shipyards invited to tender a bid.
The Gordon Campbell government gave the contracts to a German shipyard which ... incidentally ... wasn't capable of building our new ships. Only by making their employees take a cut in wages they were able to re-fit their shipyard.
Will Shakespeare would have discarded an ending as hopeless as that. Because no population deserves to wake up to that kind of treachery.
If I could re-write the play, I'd start back in 1985 by taking a flying leap at the then-leader of the Opposition, Gordon Campbell, and tell him to call off his dogs. After reading the history of the PacifiCats, I think that's all it would take, to have opened a successful new chapter in the B.C. shipbuilding industry.
I don't see how any new project, or any new industry, could possibly function properly if it's hit every day by a relentless barrage of insults and inuendo. I don't see how any buyers could feel comfortable buying something which the hometown elite had insisted, over and over, was a "fiasco".
If only Gordon Campbell's group had co-operated, there would have been a very happy ending in B.C. And I wouldn't be thinking that the West Coast media's performance was almost criminal.
I certainly don't think the Fast Ferries project was terribly awful ... or at all bad. In fact, I think it just barely, tragically, missed being spectacular.
Monday, May 09 2005 @ 02:41 PM MDT
Contributed by: BC Mary
I've been reading up on the PacifiCats recently, because the West Coast media got me wondering. When CanWest news declares something is terribly awful and bad ... is it?
The story of British Columbia's Fast Cat Ferries is exciting reading, running the whole range of emotions from triumph to despair, from pride to rage to depression.
Shakespeare would have seized such a dramatic theme and called his flagship stage play "PacifiCat Explorer." The king who launched these ships might have been stabbed through the heart but the cruel villain would certainly have caught a terrible disease and rotted a slow and painful death by the time the curtain fell.
Act 1, Scene 1, 1982, San Francisco.
A conference paper is presented by Paul Hercus outlining the virtues of high-speed catamaran ferries. He described them as:
* simple to build
* requiring standard diesel engine technology
* simple propellers
* affordable to own, operate, and travel on.
North America became the testing ground for high speed ferry, commuter, and tourist transport. Such backwaters (I'm thinking like a CanWest editor now) as Boston, New York, Florida, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Washington State had tried hydrofoils, hovercrafts, the Boeing Jetfoil, the Surface Effect Craft and "Exotically-powered Monohulls" all of which were complex, experimental, unsatisfactory, and expensive, given the results achieved. But (returning to sanity) that's what happens when embarking on a new technology: innovation -> prototypes -> testing -> start over.
Scene 2.
The first Catamaran was delivered to Washington State in 1984 and operated between Long Beach and Catalina during the Olympics, with faster crossings and good response from the public.
This vessel then went to Alaska for successful tourist service in Prince William Sound. Another catamaran operated in Puget Sound for many years between Seattle and Alderbrook Resort before being sold for operation between Oakland, Alameda and San Francisco. Another catamaran was then purchased for sightseeing around San Francisco Bay.
So Act 1 has established that the high-speed catamaran was not only accepted world-wide but had become a craze because of its simplified technology. Customers were lining up for shipyards capable of building them. British Columbia was ideally situated.
Act 2:
Fjellstrand, one of the first new overseas designs to sell, inaugurated Clipper Navigation's service between Seattle and Victoria. At this point in the report, "Fifteen years of Fast Ferries in North America," it shows the basis for B.C.'s decision to enter this proven industry and it was good.
Other catamarans had begun service in Hawaii, the Caribbean, Puerto Rico, as troop transport in the Marshall Islands, on the Great Lakes, and one fast ferry which docked at the foot of Wall Street in New York. The king's decision seemed wise as well as good. [Applause, applause.]
There was a set-back, however, before B.C. Ferries entered the scene. 1987 brought a Wall Street crash which was felt world-wide.
As interest rates rose, businesses stopped investing in new projects. This didn't affect the Fast Ferry industry until 1990 when aluminum prices began to rise, and wash problems were being documented in Rich Passage, between Seattle and Bremerton. Mono-hulls produced even greater wash. But Washington State Ferries kept testing and found that their two Fast Cats with longer, more slender hulls produced much less wash.
However, that process of testing took several years, so orders were held up for that reason. These setbacks are inevitable in a new technology but the outlines of a coming Shakespearean tragedy are forming.
Act 3. 1994
A new boom in Fast Ferries begins and U.S.A. is looking for new vessels. British Columbia's N.D.P. government takes the giant step forward and calls for "Expressions of interest" from marine designers around the world.
B.C.'s expressed aim is written in: "To put together the best possible team to design and construct a car- and passenger-carrying ferry system which would bring the greatest economical benefit not only to B.C. Ferries but to B.C. as a whole."
BC. ferries received 22 proposals, 14 of which were for catamarans. They chose the one best suited and granted the design contract to International Catamaran (Incat) of Sydney, Australia and to Canadian naval architects Robert Allan Ltd., in December 1994.
British Columbia was nicely placed for a booming market ... which, by 1998, would see a virtual explosion of Fast Cat building.
Act 4, Scene 1. Vancouver, B.C.
PacifiCats, as they were now called, were being watched closely, for two particular reasons (as well as a secretive 3rd reason).
* B.C. wanted to train its own skilled workforce,
* B.C. wanted to build its own aluminum facility.
Although very few citizens could have been expected to understand, at the time, how this tragedy would unfold, there were also:
* powerful people in British Columbia who wanted the Fast Cat project to fail.
Our first clue (would Shakespeare have written a song to ridicule such a low ambition?) was the name the enemies chose. These beautiful B.C.-built ships were to become known, the rascals hoped, as the Fast Ferry Fiasco.
Act 4, Scene 2.
"All expectations were met" when the first PacifiCat Explorer was launched in 1998. By the time PacifiCat Discovery was launched in 1999, and PacifiCat Voyager in 2000, the cost for all 3 ships had gone from the expected $250 million to $450 million and the media went mad.
"Extreme public scrutiny" dogged every move. But others pointed out (to no avail) that the simple cost of having trained those workers in regular classrooms would have equaled this price. Somehow the media didn't want to know.
"... the revitalized [B.C.] shipbuilding industry should feel particularly proud of their achievements," concluded the 15-page report by Ben Hercus. "The future of Fast Ferries in North America could, at last, be considered safe and secure" as, by 1998, no less than 27% of the world's 59 Fast Cats had been built in North America. And B.C. shipyards were now ready to build more.
If this really had been a Shakespeare play, the stage now would darken as the king collapses on the floor with a dagger in his back; in the background, there would be a shipyard is in flames. The villain, in a smooth business suit, swaggers to take over the throne as the curtain slowly comes down.
The end.
Many British Columbians simply couldn't believe that anyone would be so evil as to deliberately set out on a campaign of falsehoods to wipe out the government they had voted into power.
Nobody could imagine British Columbian leaders actually destroying a proud B.C. industry. But the Oligarchy felt they had to create the tragedy so that they -- and they alone -- could "save" us. It was the price we paid for them to take over the government.
The truth only began to dawn when the PacifiCats were put up for sale. The Oligarchy didn't want the ships to be sold, either. They wanted no redeeming feature to remain. The barrage of insults intensified.
Who would buy a used car if everybody in town screamed that it was a "fiasco"? Who could risk using the fast cats as public ferries or for tourist cruises if they had been denounced as terrible ships?
Even as scrap metal, the 3 ships were worth $60 million. But in the end, with no other buyers daring to show up, the 3 beautiful PacifiCats sold to the Washington Marine Group for $17 million. It was beyond a pity.
But Fate would give one more proof to British Columbia, perhaps hoping we'd wake up to the danger. Or perhaps the Oligarchy simply stopped being subtle.
When new ships were needed for the B.C. Ferries fleet, our own "revitalized shipbuilding industry" -- which had built the beautiful big B.C. Ferries "Spirit" ships -- did not get the contracts. Nor were B.C. shipyards invited to tender a bid.
The Gordon Campbell government gave the contracts to a German shipyard which ... incidentally ... wasn't capable of building our new ships. Only by making their employees take a cut in wages they were able to re-fit their shipyard.
Will Shakespeare would have discarded an ending as hopeless as that. Because no population deserves to wake up to that kind of treachery.
If I could re-write the play, I'd start back in 1985 by taking a flying leap at the then-leader of the Opposition, Gordon Campbell, and tell him to call off his dogs. After reading the history of the PacifiCats, I think that's all it would take, to have opened a successful new chapter in the B.C. shipbuilding industry.
I don't see how any new project, or any new industry, could possibly function properly if it's hit every day by a relentless barrage of insults and inuendo. I don't see how any buyers could feel comfortable buying something which the hometown elite had insisted, over and over, was a "fiasco".
If only Gordon Campbell's group had co-operated, there would have been a very happy ending in B.C. And I wouldn't be thinking that the West Coast media's performance was almost criminal.
I certainly don't think the Fast Ferries project was terribly awful ... or at all bad. In fact, I think it just barely, tragically, missed being spectacular.