Page 28 - Pdrh 1953

South American BUTTERFLIES harass tanker crews

Aan de Personeelraad doen toekomen om hieraan
Radio-Holland. een zo groot mogelijke publi-
Amsterdam. catie te willen geven. Wij
denken hierbij aan Uw orgaan
Mijne Heren,
PDRH.
Hierbij doen wij U een arti- Voor Uw informatie delen wij
kel toekomen wat wij aan- U mede dat ook de hoofdin-
troffen in het CSM-vloot- spectie van een en ander op
nieuws. de hoogte werd gesteld.
Daar het ons persoonlijk be- Vertrouwende het algemeen
kend is dat de daarin ge- telegrafisten -belang hierme-
noemde vlinders ook op de de te dienen, verblijven wij,
Demarararivier voorkwamen,
dus niet beperkt zijn tot de Hoogachtend,
Golf van Paria, leek het ons RADIO-HOLLAND n.v.
belangrijk genoeg dit U te Curasao.

Seamen aboard the tankers that carry oil around the world are accustomed
to all sorts of perils — even South American butterflies.
Until just a few years ago the gracefull-looking insects were the least of
the tankermen's worries. Then an otherwise routine voyage of R. G.
Stewart, a 14,650-ton tanker in service of a Standard Oil Company (New
Jersey) affiliate, added moths to the hazard list. How that came about was
told in a recent issue of the Lamp, a Jersey Standard publication.
It all happened just inside the mouth of Venezuela's San Juan River where
the Stewart anchored one afternoon at the Maturin Bar to await the tide.
Her cargo tanks full of Venezuelan crude, the tanker was ready to put
to sea although completely unready for the big butterflies.
Crew members, numbering about 40, went about their tasks in the damp
tropical heat, stripped to the waist. By nightfall they would be under way
in the Gulf of Paria, bound for Aruba.
"At dusk, "The Lamp reports, "the ship's lights attracted the usual busy
swarms of insects. This night, though, the bridge and deck watches began
to note strangers in the boarding party — large, unfamiliar brownish-
yellow moths or butterflies.
In less than an hour, and now putting to sea, the Stewart was enveloped
in a living cloud of beating wings that kept crew members slapping and
scraping at the persistent horde. By morning the butterfly plague was
ended^ but by afternoon crew member after crew member began breaking
out with a mysterious skin irritation accompanied by wild itching.