Close calls for dock truckers
DRIVERS ESCAPE: Moment’s inattention sent 20-foot containers crashing onto two rigs John G. Stirling
The age old expression of “it’s raining cats and dogs” came to mind when thinking about what went on in our world last month.
Instead of the four-legged critters falling from the sky, however, it was four-cornered containers.
When the operator of that huge crane which pulls containers from deep within then off container ships, he first has to set the “head” so that it is physically able to do the job. In other words, it has mechanical arms that insert a locking device into the four corners of the container to make lifting it possible.
One day last month the operator forgot to dial in the head when he went to lift up two 20-foot containers. Instead of eight pins ready to slip into the four corner holes of each container, there were only four pins ready to do the job that required eight. The middle pins were not engaged when the lifting commenced. Not good. Up the two 20-footers came from the deck of the container ship, then out over the dock. Suddenly, the driver of the waiting truck immediately below the containers, bailed out of his truck and ran. He had fortunately spotted the two containers starting to slip apart above him. The crane operator was not aware of the pending disaster, and carried on. One container slipped out of the only two pins holding it, and came crashing down on the waiting dock truck.
That’s all she wrote. One smashed cab. One driver who avoided what could have been a very messy situation.
Machines are great, but only as good as the human who operates it.
A week or so later, on another local container dock, another falling container and another driver who tried to bail, but couldn’t. Luckily, he lived to talk about it.
Here’s what happened. It was a somewhat slower than usual day at this dock. Using the lack of truck traffic which would impede some needed container re-positioning, a large four-wheeled top-pick started his task. The operator squeezed his huge machine between two rows of containers, and elevated the boom of his vehicle so that it would pick up a loaded 20-foot container that was on top of a three-high stack.
He hooked on, started to back up, turned his wheels so he could complete his move. But he misjudged the limited space available, and the container he had just elevated off the pile hit another container on the next pile, and it came crashing down, quicker than you could believe possible.
Meanwhile, a conventional container hauler was in the same area and when the container started to fall, the driver realized it was going to hit his vehicle, but he had nowhere to go.
He could not get out the driver’s door because he would be crushed. He could not get out the passenger side door because he was positioned next to another stack of containers and there was not enough room to allow him to get out (he is also not a skinny dude).
The container came down, hit the ground on it’s end, then bounced and flipped over onto it’s side and slammed into the chassis of the street truck with the driver with no place to go.
No worry. This story has a happy ending, too. Both drivers survived. Both have developed a strange ability to string words together that make sense to only them. Near-death experience? Maybe.
This is one dangerous occupation.
We drivers try to be professional in all aspects of our daily duties, but we are constantly at the mercy of total strangers. If they blink, if they had a bad night, if they are not working at 100 per cent of their abilities, then we innocent drivers are going to suffer.
It’s that simple. It’s that dangerous. Day after day.
I could fill a newspaper with stories about life on the road, but why not share yours with readers? Send them to Driving editor Andrew McCredie at amccredie@sunprovince.com.