March 1989 Cyanide Laced Grapes
Early on the morning of Thursday, March 2 Capt. Surabayo
Nogouchi was nosing his ship into the Humboldt Current which flows
like a silent river in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Chile.
The captain's ship, the Bungo Reefer, was fully laden with a
cargo of Chilean fruit -- peaches, plums, nectarines, apples,
pears, grapes -- 175,000 cases in all, bound for Tampa, Florida.
Noguchi was looking forward to an uneventful passage. His Japanese
officers got on well with the Phillipino crew, the engine was
running well and even though the Bungo Reefer was in need of paint
here and there, mostly down by the waterline, she was a sound
ship.
Yes, thought Noguchi, it would be a pleasant voyage. It would
be like the other two voyages to Florida this shipping season.
Having loaded his cargo in Valparaiso he would sail north, taking
advantage of the Humboldt Current past Lima, Peru; Guayaquil,
Ecuador and swinging wide of that drug port, Medellin, Colombia.
From there it would be through the Panama Canal and into the
Caribbean Sea. Thence through the narrow passage between Cuba and
the Yucatan, then an easy sail across the southern Gulf of Mexico
to Tampa.
In his voyage Capt. Noguchi would cross three major
cartographic lines; the Tropic of Capricorn, the Equator and the
Tropic of Cancer. His voyage, all things being equal, would take
about 15 days, give or take a day or two.
His sailing plan firmly in mind, Capt. Noguchi gave night
orders to his deck officer and settled down in his cabin. A little
reading, maybe watch a videotape, then a good nights sleep, that
was to be the routine for the next fortnight.
Capt. Noguchi did not know that events half a world away were
going to make his voyage anything but normal.
Just about the time the Bungo was approaching the Equator
phones were ringing in the U.S. and Japanese embassys in Santiago.
anonymous callers were saying that Chilean fruit would be
poisoned.
Steadfastly, the Bungo churned on. The Panama Canal was just a
few days ahead, the weather was already equatorially warm, but
inside the air conditioned deckhouse it was business as usual in
air conditioned comfort.
Below decks the fruit was riding comfortably in refrigerated
comfort. The chief engineer reported daily that the tons of
refrigeration generated by the dozen compressors in the engine
room were keeping the average temperature in the holds at a steady
38 degrees.
The Bungo log of the passage shows nothing out of the
ordinary. A pod of pilot whales heading north to their breeding
grounds in the Gulf of California along Mexico's Pacific coast one
day; a bundle of strange looking debris on another. Nothing out of
the ordinary for the passage of a commercial freighter.
Entry into the complex of locks and lakes that make up the
Panama Canal was routine. Pick up the Canal pilot and do what
you're told was the routine.
Meanwhile, far to the north and east in the Port of
Philadelphia a U.S. food inspector was equally immersed in his
routine -- inspecting an incoming cargo of Chilean grapes.
Then things became decidedly un-routine, both for the
inspector and for the unsuspecting crew of the Bungo Reefer.
As the Bungo was transiting Lake Gatun the results were
coming back from the lab. The two grapes that caught the
inspector's eye were indeed laced with minute amounts of deadly
cyanide.
Things were about to change for American consumers, Chilean
agriculture, even the whole of the Chilean economy and, of course,
for the Bungo Reefer which, hour-by-hour was drawing closer and closer to it's destination – Tampa, Florida.
At the other end of the passage, Lloyd Rosen was about to take a $3-million gamble.
Rosen manages the Tampa, Florida operations for Oppenheimer
California, Inc., one of the nation's largest importers of Chilean
fruit.
Rosen had a problem.
The problem was the Bungo Reefer, a refrigerated freighter with
$3-million worth of Chilean fruit in its holds.
The ship was inbound to Tampa when the embargo on Chilean fruit,
triggered by the discovery of two cyanide-laced grapes in
Philadelphia, was announced.
The horns of Rosen's dilemma were whether to accept delivery and
run the risk the fruit would never be cleared for distribution or
whether to turn the ship back, thus losing any chance of marketing
it.
That was on Tuesday, March, 14. Rosen decided to wait. He ordered
the Bungo Reefer to anchor outside Tampa's harbor.
The Bungo wasn't Rosen's only problem. He not only had 175,000
cases of Chilean fruit -- grapes, peaches, plums, nectarines,
Granny Smith apples and pears sitting 40 miles out in the Gulf of
Mexico, but he also had $750,000 worth of fruit in cold storage at
dockside.
Worse yet, negotiations between U.S. authorities and Chilean
authorities were dragging on, and the waters were further muddied
when Chile seized five Japanese fishing boats in reprisal for
Japan's closing of its market to Chilean fruit.
The Bungo Reefer swing lazily at anchor on Wednesday, its captain,
Tadashi Shirashi and his crew of 20 keeping busy with routine
shipboard chores.
On Thursday Rosen took a gamble.
He had checked with anyone who might know anything about the
ban and learned that its lifting probably was imminent,
although he couldn't be sure when.
He also didn't know exactly what the procedures for clearing the
fruit would be.
Rosen gambled and ordered the ship into port. He also
called a news conference.
"I might as well give 'em away, I can't sell 'em," he joked,
inviting reporters to join him in eating the large mound of
grapes piled on a table in the conference room.
More seriously, Rosen said, "needless to say, the last number of
days have been very stressful and trying, and we're elated to say
this controversy is just about resolved.
"In anticipation of the forthcoming clearance our company has
decided to accept delivery and therefore has ordered that our
vessel, the Bungo Reefer...come to port tomorrow."
Rosen explained that the fruit already in the coolers couldn't,
because of when it was shipped, be involved in the cyanide
incident. The item of negotiation was what percentage of the fruit
would be inspected.
Before the Port of Philadelphia incident 2% was the inspection
percentage, under the new guidelines a 5% to 8% figure was agreed
upon.
Mindful of the marketing problems he faced, Rosen promised that
when the fruit once again was on market shelves, "the biggest
thing we have to do is convince the consumer that we have a value
for her to eat." One of the plans was, "frankly and bluntly, we
plan on making our goods a value in the shopping basket. That;s
the only thing we can do. We have a perishable product that needs
selling, and we plan on selling it aggressively."
By 5:00 a.m. Friday, March, 17 the Bungo Reefer was tied up and by
8:00 a.m. unloading had begun.
By Wednesday, March 22 dozens of trucks were loaded with the fruit
and were enroute to southern supermarkets.
As serendipity would have it, the Bungo Reefer was the first ship
carrying Chilean fruit to dock at an American port following the
embargo.
Rosen was seen shepherding the unloading operations, his face
wreathed in smiles. His $3-million gamble had paid off -- the
fruit passed muster and was ahead of the competition on its way to
store counters.
Capt. Shirashi and his crew prepared to turn the Bungo around and, in the end, the Great Chilean Grape Scare turned out to be a farce.
###
Early on the morning of Thursday, March 2 Capt. Surabayo
Nogouchi was nosing his ship into the Humboldt Current which flows
like a silent river in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Chile.
The captain's ship, the Bungo Reefer, was fully laden with a
cargo of Chilean fruit -- peaches, plums, nectarines, apples,
pears, grapes -- 175,000 cases in all, bound for Tampa, Florida.
Noguchi was looking forward to an uneventful passage. His Japanese
officers got on well with the Phillipino crew, the engine was
running well and even though the Bungo Reefer was in need of paint
here and there, mostly down by the waterline, she was a sound
ship.
Yes, thought Noguchi, it would be a pleasant voyage. It would
be like the other two voyages to Florida this shipping season.
Having loaded his cargo in Valparaiso he would sail north, taking
advantage of the Humboldt Current past Lima, Peru; Guayaquil,
Ecuador and swinging wide of that drug port, Medellin, Colombia.
From there it would be through the Panama Canal and into the
Caribbean Sea. Thence through the narrow passage between Cuba and
the Yucatan, then an easy sail across the southern Gulf of Mexico
to Tampa.
In his voyage Capt. Noguchi would cross three major
cartographic lines; the Tropic of Capricorn, the Equator and the
Tropic of Cancer. His voyage, all things being equal, would take
about 15 days, give or take a day or two.
His sailing plan firmly in mind, Capt. Noguchi gave night
orders to his deck officer and settled down in his cabin. A little
reading, maybe watch a videotape, then a good nights sleep, that
was to be the routine for the next fortnight.
Capt. Noguchi did not know that events half a world away were
going to make his voyage anything but normal.
Just about the time the Bungo was approaching the Equator
phones were ringing in the U.S. and Japanese embassys in Santiago.
anonymous callers were saying that Chilean fruit would be
poisoned.
Steadfastly, the Bungo churned on. The Panama Canal was just a
few days ahead, the weather was already equatorially warm, but
inside the air conditioned deckhouse it was business as usual in
air conditioned comfort.
Below decks the fruit was riding comfortably in refrigerated
comfort. The chief engineer reported daily that the tons of
refrigeration generated by the dozen compressors in the engine
room were keeping the average temperature in the holds at a steady
38 degrees.
The Bungo log of the passage shows nothing out of the
ordinary. A pod of pilot whales heading north to their breeding
grounds in the Gulf of California along Mexico's Pacific coast one
day; a bundle of strange looking debris on another. Nothing out of
the ordinary for the passage of a commercial freighter.
Entry into the complex of locks and lakes that make up the
Panama Canal was routine. Pick up the Canal pilot and do what
you're told was the routine.
Meanwhile, far to the north and east in the Port of
Philadelphia a U.S. food inspector was equally immersed in his
routine -- inspecting an incoming cargo of Chilean grapes.
Then things became decidedly un-routine, both for the
inspector and for the unsuspecting crew of the Bungo Reefer.
As the Bungo was transiting Lake Gatun the results were
coming back from the lab. The two grapes that caught the
inspector's eye were indeed laced with minute amounts of deadly
cyanide.
Things were about to change for American consumers, Chilean
agriculture, even the whole of the Chilean economy and, of course,
for the Bungo Reefer which, hour-by-hour was drawing closer and closer to it's destination – Tampa, Florida.
At the other end of the passage, Lloyd Rosen was about to take a $3-million gamble.
Rosen manages the Tampa, Florida operations for Oppenheimer
California, Inc., one of the nation's largest importers of Chilean
fruit.
Rosen had a problem.
The problem was the Bungo Reefer, a refrigerated freighter with
$3-million worth of Chilean fruit in its holds.
The ship was inbound to Tampa when the embargo on Chilean fruit,
triggered by the discovery of two cyanide-laced grapes in
Philadelphia, was announced.
The horns of Rosen's dilemma were whether to accept delivery and
run the risk the fruit would never be cleared for distribution or
whether to turn the ship back, thus losing any chance of marketing
it.
That was on Tuesday, March, 14. Rosen decided to wait. He ordered
the Bungo Reefer to anchor outside Tampa's harbor.
The Bungo wasn't Rosen's only problem. He not only had 175,000
cases of Chilean fruit -- grapes, peaches, plums, nectarines,
Granny Smith apples and pears sitting 40 miles out in the Gulf of
Mexico, but he also had $750,000 worth of fruit in cold storage at
dockside.
Worse yet, negotiations between U.S. authorities and Chilean
authorities were dragging on, and the waters were further muddied
when Chile seized five Japanese fishing boats in reprisal for
Japan's closing of its market to Chilean fruit.
The Bungo Reefer swing lazily at anchor on Wednesday, its captain,
Tadashi Shirashi and his crew of 20 keeping busy with routine
shipboard chores.
On Thursday Rosen took a gamble.
He had checked with anyone who might know anything about the
ban and learned that its lifting probably was imminent,
although he couldn't be sure when.
He also didn't know exactly what the procedures for clearing the
fruit would be.
Rosen gambled and ordered the ship into port. He also
called a news conference.
"I might as well give 'em away, I can't sell 'em," he joked,
inviting reporters to join him in eating the large mound of
grapes piled on a table in the conference room.
More seriously, Rosen said, "needless to say, the last number of
days have been very stressful and trying, and we're elated to say
this controversy is just about resolved.
"In anticipation of the forthcoming clearance our company has
decided to accept delivery and therefore has ordered that our
vessel, the Bungo Reefer...come to port tomorrow."
Rosen explained that the fruit already in the coolers couldn't,
because of when it was shipped, be involved in the cyanide
incident. The item of negotiation was what percentage of the fruit
would be inspected.
Before the Port of Philadelphia incident 2% was the inspection
percentage, under the new guidelines a 5% to 8% figure was agreed
upon.
Mindful of the marketing problems he faced, Rosen promised that
when the fruit once again was on market shelves, "the biggest
thing we have to do is convince the consumer that we have a value
for her to eat." One of the plans was, "frankly and bluntly, we
plan on making our goods a value in the shopping basket. That;s
the only thing we can do. We have a perishable product that needs
selling, and we plan on selling it aggressively."
By 5:00 a.m. Friday, March, 17 the Bungo Reefer was tied up and by
8:00 a.m. unloading had begun.
By Wednesday, March 22 dozens of trucks were loaded with the fruit
and were enroute to southern supermarkets.
As serendipity would have it, the Bungo Reefer was the first ship
carrying Chilean fruit to dock at an American port following the
embargo.
Rosen was seen shepherding the unloading operations, his face
wreathed in smiles. His $3-million gamble had paid off -- the
fruit passed muster and was ahead of the competition on its way to
store counters.
Capt. Shirashi and his crew prepared to turn the Bungo around and, in the end, the Great Chilean Grape Scare turned out to be a farce.
###
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