Nation: $59 to Tragedy

The history of maritime safety laws is a catalogue of disasters. The first international code came in 1914, two years after the sinking of the Titanic; the latest in 1960, four years after the loss of the Andrea Doria. The U.S., which has the world's most stringent regulations, adopted them only after the Morro Castle burned and sank off New Jersey in 1934. As a sequel to the fiery death this month of the cruise shipYarmouth Castle, shipowners may well be forced to comply with more meaningful safety standards.

Three Flags. The need is plain enough. The Yarmouth Castle was one of half a dozen ships, all aging, all under foreign flags, that carry American tourists on cruises to the West Indies, charging as little as $59 for the round-trip run from Miami to Nassau. Launched in 1927, she has flown U.S., Liberian and Panamanian flags, was registered in Panama when she went down. Thus, though long past the retirement age for U.S. passenger ships, generally kept in service no more than 20 years, she was required under international law to meet only the lax safety standards in force when she was built. Twice last year she broke down before sailing, leaving hundreds of passengers on the pier. On each of the four trips she completed, according to former Operator John E. Smith Jr., she was more than 15 hours late, ran out of water and short of fuel—and leaked whenever it rained.

Six weeks before the fire, her new owner, Canadian Jules Sokoloff, put the Castle in a Tampa drydock, spent $278,000 on repairs to her keel, promenade deck and railings, replaced a propeller and some machinery. The Coast Guard examined her in drydock, three weeks later held a dockside fire and lifeboat drill. About all that could be said for the ship was said by Captain Vitus G. Niebergall, Coast Guard safety inspector: "International convention allows one half-hour to get lifeboats into the water. This boat got its lifeboats into the water in eight minutes." When she caught fire, by contrast, half of the Castle's 14 lifeboats and most of her life rafts never got into the water.

Missing Skipper. As for passengers' charges that Captain Byron Voutsinas, the Castle's 33-year-old Greek skipper, disappeared after the order to abandon ship, the skipper explained that the flames had cut him off from the stern of the ship, where most passengers were huddled. So, said Voutsinas, he climbed into a lifeboat intending to reboard her astern, but decided instead to carry injured passengers in the boat to the rescue ship Finnpulp. Another reason for accompanying them, his lawyer maintained, was to ask the Finnpulp to radio an S O S to other ships—which the Finnish freighter had already done. Many crewmen accused their captain of deserting them, but Voutsinas vowed that he had returned, directed the rescue and had been the last to leave the Castle, his first passenger command. "It was the best ship I ever served on," he insisted. "It was in perfect condition."