New Haven Independent

Ricky Lalu (pictured) is one of twelve Filipino sailors who were taken into custody when their oil tanker, the M/T Kriton, was detained in New Haven Harbor last March. At the time, a crew member had called the US Coast Guard, claiming that his employers had ordered workers to perform the illegal dump-outs.

The US Coast Guard acted immediately on the tip. On the evening of March 20, an eight-man party was dispatched to investigate the Kriton. They spent all night conducting interviews with crew members and searching the tanker for evidence of foul play. The next day, another team boarded the Kriton to grill the Greek officers who run the tanker. But neither investigation yielded a smoking gun.

Still, investigators were not convinced that the 16-year-old tanker was ‘clean’. Its owners had a history of pollution violations, including a 2004 conviction for illegal waste oil discharges. Statements from sailors who claimed to have participated in the dump-outs were evidence enough to detain the tanker in the New Haven Harbor.

Now, the sailors are key government witnesses
in a trial against the tanker’s operator, the Greek shipping company Ionia Management S.A. The company is accused of violating deep-sea pollution laws and falsifying ship records to cover its tracks, according to court documents. The trial, ongoing this week, opened last Wednesday at the federal courthouse on Church Street in New Haven.

If convicted, Ionia Management S.A. faces up to $9 million in environmental pollution fines. Edgardo Mercurio, the tanker’s second engineer, was charged along with Ionia in the indictment. He pleaded guilty in July after reaching a plea with the government, but still faces six years in prison and up to $250,000 in fines.

The Missing “Magic Hose”

In opening statements Wednesday, prosecutors accused the Kriton’s engineers of ordering engine-room workers, including Lalu, to dump waste oil overboard using a rubber hose that bypassed the tanker’s pollution-control equipment.

Defense attorneys for Ionia countered that the government lacked evidence to support this claim, as an extensive investigation had failed to turn up the mysterious “magic hose.”

In addition, the whistleblower who alerted the US Coast Guard to the alleged dump-outs had done so because he expected to reap a reward and become an “instant millionaire,” said Ionia attorney George Chalos. Click here to read about the opening statements in the Reg.

Prosecutors then locked horns with the defense over the evidence brought to bear against Ionia Management.

Jurors were shown pictures of piping and valves that had allegedly been tampered with during the installation of the bypass hose.

Coast Guard Officer Lee Scott Howell, who participated in the March 20 investigation, said he had performed close inspections of the suspected areas, but found the tanker to be “mostly clean.”

However, that did not preclude the possibility of a last-minute cover-up, Howell added. Bolts surrounding an opening in the tanker’s bulkhead appeared to be worn, he said, and an emergency exit sign seemed to have been dismounted to accommodate a bypass hose.

Defense attorney Chalos dismissed the pictures, arguing that “nicks and dings” on the piping and sign could easily be attributed to 16 years of wear and tear.

Prosecutors followed up with more photographic evidence. They projected cell-phone pictures taken by an engine-room worker that allegedly showed the “magic hose” connected to an overboard opening.

Here again, Chalos argued that the grainy pictures did not constitute proof of any illegal activity. During his cross-examination of Officer Howell, it emerged that investigators had originally considered the pictures to be “inconclusive.”

By the time both parties had run through their list of evidence — and the 16-member jury was allowed to leave the courtroom — many questions remained unanswered. Indeed, in the absence of any damning physical evidence, could prosecutors rely on testimonies from the Filipino whistle-blowers? And would their testimonies alone prove guilt on the part of Ionia Management S.A.?

A Sailor Speaks Up

On the second day of the trial, prosecutors called the first of the Filipino sailors up to the witness stand.

Ricky Lalu (pictured in a sketch at the top of this story), who had spent the last five months in hiding at a local motel waiting to testify, appeared composed as he entered the court-room. He wore a striped polo shirt, white sneakers and blue jeans; his interpreter came in a gray suit.

US Assistant Attorney Bill Brown began his direct examination. Lalu, it emerged, had been hired in December 2006 as an oiler aboard the the M/T Kriton—an engine-room worker hired to take readings and report to the second engineer.

Speaking through the interpreter—his native language is Tagalog — Lalu said that he first heard of a “magic hose” when he boarded the Kriton in Venezuela, but was only asked to use it months later, during a crossing from Port Everglades, Florida, to Estonia.

After another oiler had disembarked from the tanker, the second engineer had assigned Lalu the task of dumping waste oil, sludge and bilge water overboard through a “magic hose,” he said.

“The duty of pumping out came to me in Estonia,” Lalu said. “The second engineer asked me to do the pump-outs when another oiler disembarked from the ship.”

The discharges soon became a part of his regular duties: At 8 p.m., when his evening shift started in the engine-room, he would secure the hose to an overboard valve and start discharging the waste, he said. Once the waste holding tanks had been emptied, he would suction seawater through the “magic hose” to remove any trace of oil, he said.

The dumping would often continue beyond his four-hour shift, rolling over into the morning hours when another sailor, Mr. Matugas, would take over. Most often, the dumping would start once the tanker had steered clear of coastal waters and was navigating on the open sea. The tanker’s pollution-control equipment, he added, was activated only once during the six months he served on the Kriton.

Lalu, who testified under immunity, was the first witness to admit having played a role in the unlawful dumping. But the prosecution was determined to prove that he had acted under orders from the tanker’s commanding officers. Proving such a link was central to their case against Ionia Management S.A. So they asked Lalu to recount a conversation he’d had with the Chief Engineer, Petros Renieres, while onboard the Kriton.

“He called me while I was in the engine-room,” Lalu said. “I told him I had pumped out the day before and that day. I said I was in the middle of a pump-out when he called.”

Lalu added that the Renieres did not seem surprised that he was discharging waste oil overboard, and did not ask him to stop.

At that point, Ionia’s counsel rose to question the validity of Lalu’s testimony. He asked: How could Lalu hold a conversation with the Chief Engineer in English if his mastery of the language was rudimentary at best?

Lalu was asked to repeat the conversation verbatim, in English — without the help of his interpreter. The result was halting and hesitant, but nonetheless conveyed an understanding of engine-room terminology.

Next, Ionia’s defense mounted an attack on the credibility of the government witnesses, suggesting that Lalu might have colluded with other crew-members to collect reward money.

The impetus, Chalos said, was an article in a Filipino shipping magazine that was widely read among the Kriton’s crew. The article described how sailors on a similar tanker had scored massive rewards by blowing the whistle on their employer. Chalos suggested that the article might have inspired the Kriton’s workers to do the same.

“It would have been nice to take a reward back to the Philippines, no?” Chalos asked Lalu.

“I have no intention of collecting a reward; I just want to tell the truth,” answered Lalu.

Six more witnesses, including the main whistle-blower, the ship’s electrician, are slated to testify as the trial continues this week.