{"id":62024,"date":"2015-08-03T12:53:19","date_gmt":"2015-08-03T11:53:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/?p=62024"},"modified":"2015-08-03T13:52:30","modified_gmt":"2015-08-03T12:52:30","slug":"stowaways-and-crimes-aboard-a-scofflaw-ship-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/2015\/08\/stowaways-and-crimes-aboard-a-scofflaw-ship-part-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Stowaways and Crimes aboard a Scofflaw Ship (Part 1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Read Parts: (2 here)<\/a> – (3 here)<\/a> – (4 here)<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Men and Laws, Thrown Overboard<\/strong><\/p>\n

Few places on Earth are as free from legal oversight as the high seas. One ship has been among the most persistent offenders.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"Basil<\/a>

Basil Childers for The New York Times<\/p><\/div>\n

17 Jul 2015<\/em> \u2014 The rickety raft made of empty oil drums and a wooden tabletop rolled and pitched with the waves while tied to the side of the Dona Liberta, a 370-foot cargo ship anchored far from land in the Atlantic Ocean off West Africa.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo down!\u201d yelled a knife-wielding crew member, forcing two Tanzanian stowaways overboard and onto the raft. As angry clouds gathered on the horizon, he cut the line.<\/p>\n

Gambling on a better life, the stowaways had run out of luck. They had already spent nine days at sea, most of the time hiding in the Dona Liberta\u2019s engine room, crouched deep in oily water. But as they climbed down onto the slick raft, the men, neither of whom knew how to swim, nearly slid into the ocean before lashing themselves together to the raft with a rope.<\/p>\n

As the Dona Liberta slowly disappeared, David George Mndolwa, one of the abandoned pair, recalled thinking: \u201cThis is the end.\u201d<\/p>\n

Few places on the planet are as lawless as the high seas, where egregious crimes are routinely committed with impunity. Though the global economy is ever more dependent on a fleet of more than four million fishing and small cargo vessels and 100,000 large merchant ships that haul about 90 percent of the world\u2019s goods, today\u2019s maritime laws have hardly more teeth than they did centuries ago when history\u2019s great empires first explored the oceans\u2019 farthest reaches.<\/p>\n

Murders regularly occur offshore \u2014 thousands of seafarers, fishermen or sea migrants die under suspicious circumstances annually, maritime officials say \u2014 but culprits are rarely held accountable. No one is required to report violent crimes committed in international waters.<\/p>\n

Through debt or coercion, tens of thousands of workers, many of them children, are enslaved on boats every year, with only occasional interventions. On average, a large ship sinks every four days and between 2,000 and 6,000 seamen die annually, typically because of avoidable accidents linked to lax safety practices.<\/p>\n

Ships intentionally dump more engine oil and sludge into the oceans in the span of three years than that spilled in the Deepwater Horizon and Exxon Valdez accidents combined, ocean researchers say, and emit huge amounts of certain air pollutants, far more than all the world\u2019s cars. Commercial fishing, much of it illegal, has so efficiently plundered marine stocks that the world\u2019s population of predatory fish has declined by two thirds.<\/p>\n

The Dona Liberta has been among the most persistent of scofflaws, offering a case study of misconduct at sea, according to an examination of shipping, insurance and port records, and dozens of interviews with law enforcement, maritime experts and former company associates. The vessel not only cast off stowaways \u2014 Jocktan Francis Kobelo, the second man ordered onto the raft, died from the 2011 ordeal \u2014 but has also been accused of a long list of other offenses over the past decade.<\/p>\n

\"From<\/a>

From 2011 to 2014, the rusty refrigerated cargo vessel traced the coasts of Africa and Europe, abandoning crew members, abusing stowaways, dumping oil and committing other crimes along the way. Port calls were often the only means of locating the ship, which frequently turned off its required satellite tracking signal. Source: SkyTruth<\/p><\/div>\n

As the rusty refrigerator ship moved across two oceans and five seas and among 20 ports, it routinely abused, cheated and abandoned its crew, caused an oil slick nearly 100 miles long, and drew citations from a half-dozen countries for other environmental violations. Creditors chased its owner for millions of dollars in unpaid debts, and maritime watchdog groups listed its parent company as an illegal fishing suspect. Still, the ship operated freely and never lacked for work or laborers.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the maritime world, it\u2019s far easier for countries to look the other way with problem ships like the Dona Liberta than to do something about them,\u201d said Mark Young, a retired United States Coast Guard commander and former chief of enforcement for the Pacific Ocean.<\/p>\n

Vessels that disappear over the horizon tend to vanish not just from sight but from oversight, a New York Times investigation found. Countries have signed dozens of maritime pacts, the shipping industry has published reams of guidelines and the United Nations maritime agency has written hundreds of rules, all aimed at regulating ships, crews and safety. But those laws are also often weak, contradictory and easily skirted by criminals. National and international agencies usually have neither the inclination nor resources to enforce them.<\/p>\n

The modern flagging system, which allows ships to buy the right to fly the flag of a country as long as it promises to follow its laws, provides good cover for the unscrupulous.<\/p>\n

Usually, a ship may be stopped on the high seas only by a law enforcement or military vessel flying the same flag. The world\u2019s navies, though, have been scaling down for decades. Most nations, including the Bahamas, whose flag the Dona Liberta flew, have no ships that regularly patrol beyond their national waters. (Some landlocked countries like Mongolia and Bolivia offer flags for cheaper costs.)<\/p>\n

When wrongdoing occurs, no single agency within a country or specific international organization typically has a sufficient stake in the matter to pursue it. The stowaways on the Dona Liberta, for example, were undocumented immigrants from Tanzania, living in South Africa and brought to shore in Liberia. The ship was owned by a Greek company incorporated in Liberia, crewed primarily by Filipinos, captained by an Italian, flagged to the Bahamas and passing through international waters. \u201cWho leads such an investigation?\u201d Mr. Young asked.<\/p>\n

There is much at stake: A melting Arctic has expanded trade routes<\/a>. Evolving technology has opened the deep seabed to new mining and drilling<\/a>. Maritime rivalry and piracy have led to more violent clashes. And, with an ever more borderless economy, sea commerce is vital to many countries. \u201cWithout ships, half of the world would freeze and the other half would starve,\u201d Rose George, a British nautical writer, said.<\/p>\n

In recent months, the United States has said that it intends to take a bigger role in high seas governance. \u201cWe ignore the oceans at our peril,\u201d said Secretary of State John Kerry<\/a>, who has pushed for more marine conservation globally and in May brokered a landmark deal<\/a> with Russia to regulate trawling in Arctic waters.<\/p>\n

Mr. Young pressed for urgent action. Asked to describe the world\u2019s oceans today, he said: \u201cLike the Wild West. Weak rules, few sheriffs, lots of outlaws.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018The Ground Swallows You\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n

As the storm set in, 20-foot swells seesawed the 7-by-8-foot raft. To avoid flipping over, the two Tanzanian stowaways splayed flat on their backs. Their hands chafed from grasping a piece of rebar poking up from one of the rusty blue drums.<\/p>\n

Weather is more punishing on the open water because it comes from above and below. Mr. Mndolwa compared it to experiencing an earthquake and a hurricane at the same time. For eight pitch-black hours, the men stared upward in a driving rain, keeping their mouths closed because waves kept washing over them and squinting because shutting their eyes intensified the seasickness.<\/p>\n

Mr. Kobelo had stowed away on ships three times before in search of work wherever he landed, according to his brother, Michael. He went to Angola, Senegal and then Singapore, where he spent a year as a night watchman and firefighter in a small dry dock. Though he could have faced prosecution, most countries do not bother to charge stowaways. Immigration authorities eventually sent him back to Tanzania.<\/p>\n

To Mr. Mndolwa, who is barely literate and had never before left Africa, Mr. Kobelo\u2019s descriptions of his time in Singapore \u2014 free hospital visits, restaurant meals, beaches where the police never shooed him away \u2014 sounded far better than his life in Cape Town. By day, the two men roamed the sidewalks near South Africa\u2019s Table Bay, selling knockoff watches and soccer jerseys. By night, they slept in a makeshift lean-to under a bridge.<\/p>\n

For those seeking escape, few routes are as perilous as the sea. Roughly 2,000 stowaways are caught each year hiding on ships. Hundreds of thousands more are sea migrants, whose journey involves some level of complicity from the ship\u2019s crew. In interviews, these travelers compared the experience of stowing away at sea to hiding in the trunk of a car for an undetermined length of time, going to an unknown place across the most brutal of terrains. Temperatures are extreme. It is impossible to bring enough food or water. And if you try to flee en route, one former stowaway in Durban, South Africa, said, \u201cthe ground swallows you whole.\u201d<\/p>\n

To get on board, some stowaways pose as stevedores or deck cleaners. Others swim under the stern and squeeze through a space where the rudder meets the ship. Many scale the side, helped by \u201cstowaway poles\u201d: long bamboo sticks with toeholds and a hook. \u201cLove boats,\u201d which are common in ports and deliver prostitutes, drugs and alcohol to large ships, sometimes also bring uninvited passengers. After sneaking on board, they hide in hulls or shipping containers, crane cabs or tool trunks.<\/p>\n

But concealed corners that might look inviting often turn deadly once ships set sail. Refrigerated fishing holds become cold, exhaust pipes heat up, shipping containers are sealed and fumigated. Maritime newsletters and shipping insurance reports offer a macabre accounting of the victims: \u201cCrushed in the chain locker,\u201d \u201casphyxiated by bunker fumes,\u201d \u201cfound under a retracted anchor.\u201d Most often, though, death comes slower. Vomiting from seasickness leads to dehydration. People pass out from exhaustion. They starve.<\/p>\n

In May 2011, Mr. Mndolwa and Mr. Kobelo got their chance at a new life. They overheard a deckhand in port mention that the red-bottomed ship waiting dockside with no night watchman was leaving soon for England. Carrying their passports, a loaf of bread and a plastic bag filled with orange juice, the men shimmied across the ship\u2019s mooring rope that night, crept down to the engine room, and stayed there, whisperingly still, for the next five days.<\/p>\n

\"Source:<\/a>

Source: SkyTruth<\/p><\/div>\n

But their hiding spot soon proved unbearable. The turbines left their ears ringing. The fumes made them lightheaded. The heat \u201cstole our breath,\u201d Mr. Mndolwa recounted. Within two days their food ran out. Creeping through the mazelike lower levels of the ship up to the deck, they found crackers and bottled water in an enclosed lifeboat. They were discovered there four days later. Locked in a room below deck, they waited while the captain and crew determined their fate.<\/p>\n

Smoke and Fire<\/strong><\/p>\n

Though small, Greece is a superpower in the maritime world, with many shipping lines and a disproportionate number of the wealthiest shipowners. Nearly half of the best known shipping families hail from Chios, a tiny Greek island five miles off the coast of Turkey that was long prized by successive empires and nations.<\/p>\n

Proud of its nautical pedigree, Chios claims as native sons (not without dispute) two great men of the sea \u2014 Homer and Christopher Columbus. It is also home to George Kallimasias, whose family has been in shipping for three generations. By most accounts, he runs Commercial S.A., which operated the Dona Liberta and a fleet of about two dozen similar ships.<\/p>\n

Even in a struggling economy, Greece\u2019s shipping magnates benefit from favorable government treatment, including an exemption for shipping firms from certain taxes. Shipowners control most of the country\u2019s major oil companies, soccer teams and television stations, and played a major role in bailing out its banks in recent years.<\/p>\n

The nation\u2019s major shipping families also have a reputation for noblesse oblige \u2014 many of the island\u2019s soccer fields, schools and hospitals bear plaques with their names. Mr. Kallimasias, though, is decidedly invisible.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe is nothing like the others,\u201d said a dockworker at the Chios marina. He pointed to Mr. Kallimasias\u2019s 107-foot yacht, Something Wild, which the worker said is always guarded and rarely used. Mr. Kallimasias\u2019s seaside house in Chios sits behind a 15-foot wall. When he drives around, he is typically accompanied by bodyguards, according to a former employee and associates in Athens.<\/p>\n

\"George<\/a>

George Kallimasias’s yacht, Something Wild, in the port of Chios, Greece. Credit Eirini Vourloumis for The New York Times Photo<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Mr.<\/a>

Mr. Kallimasias’s home in Chios is surrounded by a high wall. A former employee said he is usually accompanied by bodyguards. Credit Eirini Vourloumis for The New York Times<\/p><\/div>\n

\u201cThe guy is smoke,\u201d said Lefteris Kormalos, a ship engine parts dealer. Last year, Mr. Kormalos won a court decision for $30,000 in unpaid debts from Mr. Kallimasias, who is named in at least 15 similar lawsuits in Greek or American courts. Legal documents variously describe him as owner, consultant or managing director of Commercial S.A., another business called Fairport Shipping and the Dona Liberta.<\/p>\n

Built in Japan in 1991, the Dona Liberta was operated or owned by several British and Japanese companies before Commercial S.A. acquired it in 2004. It had variously been named the Emerald Reefer, the Sanwa Hope and the Sun An. Over the years it has flown the flags of Panama, the Bahamas and Kiribati, a tiny island nation in the Central Pacific.<\/p>\n

A slow, powerful workhorse, the steel-hulled vessel has more than 20,000 cubic feet of refrigeration space, enough to carry the equivalent of more than 25 million cans of tuna, the Dona Liberta\u2019s main cargo.<\/p>\n

Known more commonly as \u201creefers,\u201d this type of refrigeration ship is a dying breed that has been squeezed out of the business of transporting fruits and vegetables by container ships that are more than three times their size and have superior temperature-control technology. To survive, many reefers have shifted in recent years to moving fish, much of it illegal, and other contraband like counterfeit cigarettes and drugs, according to maritime insurance officials.<\/p>\n

Mr. Kallimasias did not respond to interview requests. A clerk at the office of Commercial S.A. and Fairport Shipping in Athens shouted at a reporter through a front-gate intercom that it was inappropriate to have visited there, a point reiterated later in an email from Fairport\u2019s lawyer, Alexandros Papalamprou.<\/p>\n

In the 1980s, when one of Mr. Kallimasias\u2019s companies failed to repay a loan of more than $11 million to the National Bank of Greece, members of the Greek Parliament investigated. They found one ship of his worth seizing, but it caught fire at sea and sank, in what was believed to be a deliberate act to collect insurance on it, according to legal documents provided to The Times by a Parliament member.<\/p>\n

Dinos Anargyrou, a former Kallimasias supplier and litigant, recounted how the courts were unable to seize Mr. Kallimasias\u2019 assets in 2013 for another unpaid debt. At the last minute, his company moved its corporate address from a two-story luxury building in an upscale section of Athens to a 100-square-foot vacant apartment in an aging downtown high-rise.<\/p>\n

Scrounging for Food<\/strong><\/p>\n

In whispered phone calls or surreptitious notes, crew members from the Dona Liberta regularly contacted the international seafarers\u2019 union, pleading for help. They described safety violations, harsh conditions, wage theft and abandonment, union records show.<\/p>\n

By 2012, the mistreatment led the union to warn mariners against working for the Dona Liberta and other ships owned by Commercial S.A., according to union officials based in London.<\/p>\n

\u201cLack of winter jackets, hard hats and safety shoes,\u201d one union inspector wrote, describing crew members working outside in Norway in November. In Spain and South Africa, the crew complained that the captain routinely doctored the log books to show wages that were never paid and ship repairs that never occurred.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen your contract is over, they send you home, saying they\u2019ve transferred the money,\u201d Yuriy Cheng, a Ukrainian, wrote in an undated post in Russian on a mariners\u2019 online forum about the Dona Liberta\u2019s owner. \u201cYou get home, and there is nothing there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Cheng described a standoff on his ship between management and the mostly Filipino crew members, who stopped work after a year of not being paid despite threats that they would be jailed if they failed to deliver the cargo. \u201cThese guys are 40 or 50 years old,\u201d he wrote, \u201cand they were crying like babies out of frustration.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Source:<\/a>

Source: SkyTruth<\/p><\/div>\n

In June 2011, George Cristof, a veteran sailor, knew something was wrong from the moment he stepped on board the Dona Liberta in the Port of Truro, England. Hired by a maritime employment agency in Galati, Romania, he had been instructed in a brief call with Mr. Kallimasias\u2019s shipping company to fly immediately to England because a full crew was waiting, ready to launch.<\/p>\n

But when he arrived, Mr. Cristof found the situation far different, he recalled in an interview. The provisions were gone, the cargo hold empty, the crew departed. The Dona Liberta had barely enough fuel to power the wheel room\u2019s overhead lamp, much less run the ship\u2019s 5,600-horsepower engine.<\/p>\n

Mr. Cristof was soon joined by another Romanian, Florin Raducan, and for the next several months the two men survived by fishing over the side and begging for canned goods and bottled water from passing ships. Some days they did not eat. They lacked the money and documents needed to disembark and return home. Their phone cards were drained, their cigarettes were all but gone. The men had no heat, running water, functioning toilets or electricity. They collected rainwater to clean themselves.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t enough,\u201d Mr. Cristof recounted. He soon developed a severe fungal infection on his chest, his medical records show.<\/p>\n

Each day the men waited for orders that never came. \u201cJail with a salary,\u201d Mr. Cristof said, reciting a common expression about work at sea. \u201cExcept the salary isn\u2019t guaranteed.\u201d<\/p>\n

More than 2,300 seafarers have been similarly stranded by their employers over the last decade, United Nations data shows. A ship\u2019s cargo is often better protected than its crew. The industry only recently imposed rules, taking effect in 2017, mandating that shipowners carry insurance or show other proof that they can cover the costs of sailors marooned in port, as well as seafarers\u2019 death and long-term disability entitlements.<\/p>\n

In England, an aid organization came to the rescue<\/a> of the two Romanians. \u201cThey did not want to stay but they refused to leave,\u201d Ben Bailey, project manager of the group, Mission to Seafarers<\/a>, said of the men\u2019s predicament. Each sailor had paid more than $1,000 to the employment agency to get the job on the Dona Liberta, he said. Abandoning the ship forfeited any chance of recouping that money or collecting the wages promised to them.<\/p>\n

\"George<\/a>

George Cristof was stranded on the Dona Liberta at the Port of Truro, England, in 2011. Along with another man he survived for months by fishing over the side and begging for canned goods and bottled water from passing ships. Credit Cristian Movila for The New York Times<\/p><\/div>\n

After five months, though, Mr. Cristof and Mr. Raducan gave up. They flew back to Romania. For Mr. Cristof, the breaking point had come when he learned his children could no longer afford school. For Mr. Raducan: finding out that his wife had resorted to begging in public.<\/p>\n

Maritime Merry-Go-Round<\/strong><\/p>\n

Few crimes are tougher to investigate than those that occur at sea. There are no cameras on the corner, no phones to tap, usually no weapons to retrieve. Crew members are often changed mid-voyage, so witnesses are scarce. \u201cThe crime scene is moving,\u201d explained Mr. Young, the former Coast Guard official who is now senior officer of conservation enforcement at the Pew Charitable Trusts.<\/p>\n

Complicating matters is what industry officials call the \u201cmaritime merry-go-round.\u201d Asked about investigating the Dona Liberta\u2019s possible crimes on the high seas, a United States Coast Guard official said it was not its jurisdiction. \u201cTry Interpol,\u201d he suggested. The authorities there said that its role was mostly to pass information between countries.<\/p>\n

Officials at the International Maritime Organization<\/a>, a United Nations agency, said that the country whose flag the vessel flies is supposed to investigate any allegations. An official at the Bahamas flag registry program said that any inquiry by his office would be referred to the I.M.O.<\/p>\n

Early one morning in April 2012, the three-person staff at SkyTruth<\/a>, an environmental watchdog group based in West Virginia, huddled over satellite footage sent from the European Space Agency. Their attention was quickly drawn to a half-dozen black slashes \u2014 what looked to them like intentional dumping from ships \u2014 in waters off the coast of Africa.<\/p>\n

The longest gash in the ocean imagery stretched about 92 miles from Cabinda, Angola. On the leading edge of the slick, the Dona Liberta was headed northwest.<\/p>\n

Ships have several options for handling the large amount of oily wastewater and fuel sludge that their engines produce during voyages. They can incinerate it on board, pay to unload it at a waste depot or \u2014 cheapest of all \u2014 use a \u201cmagic pipe,\u201d a jury-rigged hose that illegally pumps the waste directly overboard or underwater.<\/p>\n

That episode of dumping was not an isolated event. In February 2012, British environmental authorities had to clean up a slick caused by the Dona Liberta<\/a> in the River Fal. Eight months before that, the ship was cited by Russian inspectors for having doctored its oil logbooks, a telltale sign of illegal dumping at sea. The Dona Liberta was cited for the same offense by Spanish inspectors in July 2009, Dutch inspectors in 2005, and British inspectors in 2004.<\/p>\n

Most of these citations did not result in fines, most likely because few countries beyond the United States and Britain consistently prosecute such violations.<\/p>\n

This time, no investigation was even opened. When other environmental groups alerted United Nations maritime officials, Interpol and the United States Coast Guard about the oil slick, officials said they had no jurisdiction. \u201cOf the few people watching, even fewer do anything to stop it,\u201d said John Hocevar, the oceans director at Greenpeace.<\/p>\n

Desperation<\/strong><\/p>\n

Stowaways have long been forced to walk the plank, subjected to the rough justice of the oceans. Though often victimized, they are also trespassers, usually desperate, occasionally dangerous, but by no means a new problem in the maritime world.<\/p>\n

More humane captains put stowaways to work before dropping them off at the next port. But in recent years, European immigration laws have tightened, terrorism fears have grown and port authorities around the world have responded by raising the penalties for ships arriving with people not listed on the manifest.<\/p>\n

The rules on land, though, often conflict with the realities at sea. Captains are prohibited from jettisoning stowaways, but they are blocked or fined if they bring them to shore. Nations have generally shifted the responsibility of handling stowaways onto the shipping industry, putting pressure on shipowners, captains and crew, said Paloma Maquet, an expert on stowaways based at Universit\u00e9 de Poitiers in France. Captains sometimes tell their deckhands: \u201cMake the problem go away.\u201d<\/p>\n

In 2014, two Guinean stowaways, one of whom soon drowned, were pushed or leapt overboard off the French coast after several African countries would not let them disembark, according to media accounts and human rights advocates. Police investigators said the fees were a factor in the episode. Two years earlier, a crew threw four African stowaways into the Mediterranean (all survived) after the captain was told the costs of repatriation. These expenses can run to $50,000 per stowaway, or double that if cargo delays are involved.<\/p>\n

On their raft in the Atlantic Ocean, Mr. Mndolwa and Mr. Kobelo woke up the morning after the storm to an azure sky. They sat up, untied themselves, and began passing the time talking about soccer and their families. Malnourishment, dehydration and the frigid ocean spray had sapped them. By sunset, panic set in as the temperature began falling.<\/p>\n

\u201cWords dried up,\u201d Mr. Mndolwa explained. He began saying the Lord\u2019s Prayer, first in his head, then aloud. Mr. Kobelo joined in until he began coughing, and vomiting blood.<\/p>\n

Hope soon appeared as a speck on the horizon. A 10-foot wooden boat with a loud outboard motor was approaching. \u201cWhy are you there?\u201d a fisherman yelled in broken English as he tossed a rope to the raft. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Mr. Mndolwa replied.<\/p>\n

A half-day later, the stowaways arrived at a fishing pier several miles outside the port city of Buchanan, Liberia, where they were soon detained for being undocumented. \u201cWhy do you put us in jail and let the crew go?\u201d Mr. Mndolwa recalled asking a Liberian immigration official. \u201cThe authorities deal with crimes on land, not on the water,\u201d he said the official responded.<\/p>\n

Six days after reaching land, Mr. Kobelo, whose coughing had grown worse, died. He was 26. Sitting in a one-room house in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, his brother, Michael, 37, said he blamed the Dona Liberta for the death.<\/p>\n

His brother broke the law by stowing away, he conceded. \u201cBut even here in Tanzania we are told if you catch a thief, you don\u2019t beat him,\u201d he said. \u201cYou don\u2019t throw him into the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Dona Liberta arrived in the Port of Truro, near the southwestern tip of England, in June 2011, about a month after the stowaways were set adrift. The British police, apparently alerted by Liberian officials, boarded the ship and interviewed the captain. They later closed the investigation for lack of evidence, according to port officials. (They cited privacy reasons in declining to release the names of the Dona Liberta\u2019s captain or crew, as had Liberian port and immigration officials, who also refused to be interviewed.)<\/p>\n

Capt. Mark Killingback, the harbor master for the Port of Truro, said that it was clear from its weatherworn appearance that the Dona Liberta had fallen on hard times. He added that his office had received several requests from foreign creditors to detain the ship.<\/p>\n

\"David<\/a>

David George Mndolwa, sitting outside the lean-to that is his home in Cape Town, South Africa. This encampment, which includes other stowaways, can be a dangerous spot. Credit Ed Ou for The New York Times<\/p><\/div>\n

After his arrest, Mr. Mndolwa remained in his cell for five months before being flown to Tanzania, and eventually returned to Cape Town. Now 27, he lives near the same bridge as he did before boarding the Dona Liberta. The encampment, which includes other stowaways, is a dangerous spot. (A Times videographer was robbed there at knifepoint and beaten.)<\/p>\n

On a portside slope strewn with trash and excrement, Mr. Mndolwa\u2019s thatch and stick lean-to contains a soiled blanket and dozens of losing lottery tickets, dangling like a mobile. One recent day he tried to sell a couple packs of gum and some hair braids to drivers waiting at a nearby stoplight, later bartering his faux-leather belt for shoelaces from another homeless man.<\/p>\n

He will try to stow away again, he said. \u201cI just believe the ship is going to change my life.\u201d<\/p>\n

A New Name<\/strong><\/p>\n

For much of last year, the Dona Liberta disappeared after turning off its location transponder. Though illegal under most conditions for large ships, disconnecting the device is easy and especially common on vessels carrying contraband.<\/p>\n

Then in November, the rusty reefer reappeared in the Gulf of Thailand. When approached by a reporter eight miles off the coast, the Chinese captain explained that his ship had a new owner \u2014 a Chinese company \u2014 and a new flag \u2014 Kiribati. The ship\u2019s new name, Sea Pearl, was painted on its forward hull, alongside a shadow of its old one. (The ship has since changed its flag, again, to Vanuatu.)<\/p>\n

Asked about the ship\u2019s past misdeeds, the captain demurred. \u201cDifferent company, different company,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

_______________________________________<\/p>\n

Dimitris Bounias and Nikolas Leontopoulos contributed reporting from Athens, and Shannon Service from Bangkok. Kitty Bennett contributed research from St. Petersburg, Fla.<\/em><\/p>\n

A version of this article appears in print on July 19, 2015, on page A1 of the New York edition with the headline: Men and Laws, Thrown Overboard .<\/p>\n

Go to Original \u2013 nytimes.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

17 Jul 2015 \u2014 Men and Laws, Thrown Overboard – Few places on Earth are as free from legal oversight as the high seas. One ship has been among the most persistent offenders.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[197],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-62024","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-special-feature"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/62024","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=62024"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/62024\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=62024"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=62024"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=62024"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}