He flipped open a fresh page. If he filed this report correctly, the terminal manager would authorize two tugs instead of one, and clear the adjacent berth for safety. But if he made a single error in the coordinates or wind allowance, the vessel could scrape the fender system—or worse, collide with the fuel pier.
He poured himself a cold cup of tea and waited for the next blip on the radar.
CITPL (Coastal Integrated Terminal & Port Logistics) ran a tight operation. Delays meant demurrage fees, unhappy clients, and a cascade of paperwork that could bury a man alive. But Manish had been a harbor pilot for twenty-three years before a bad knee grounded him behind a desk. He knew the sea’s rhythms better than the algorithms in the new berthing software.
Static. Then a crackling voice: “CITPL Control, this is Captain Deka. We’re carrying a full load of rare earth minerals. But there’s a problem. Our bow thruster is malfunctioning. We’ll need a tug—and a wider berthing window.” Citpl Vessel Berthing Report
Vessel: M.V. Indus Fortune IMO: 9472031 LOA: 189m Draft: 10.2m Berthing time (scheduled): 21:00 Berthing time (actual): 23:10 (estimated) Tug deployment: Two ASD tugs requested – approved. Weather: NE wind 22 knots, visibility 3 km, moderate chop Incident log: Bow thruster malfunction. Awaiting tug escort.
The rain came down in sheets, drumming against the corrugated roof of the harbor master’s shack. Inside, old Manish Rathore adjusted his spectacles and stared at the radar screen. A single blip—large, slow, deliberate—inched toward the approach channel.
“Control to Indus Fortune , report your ETA to Berth Delta-7,” Manish spoke into the radio. He flipped open a fresh page
Date: October 12 Time: 22:47 hours Location: CITPL Marine Terminal, Berth Delta-7
He stamped the final box:
By 23:30, the Indus Fortune groaned against the dolphins of Berth Delta-7. Mooring lines snaked through the darkness, pulled taut by dockworkers in yellow rain gear. Manish watched from the window, then turned back to his desk. He poured himself a cold cup of tea
Somewhere, an accountant would log it. A scheduler would check a box. But Manish knew the truth: that report had just saved a captain’s night, a company’s money, and perhaps a few lives.
It was the M.V. Indus Fortune , a cargo vessel three days overdue.