Chapter 25: Tramp On A Steamer

There are many ports throughout the world, and not all can handle a ship the size of a containership or oil tanker. Small towns just weren’t their trouble, neither. Therefore, smaller cargo ship companies serviced these ports. Some owned larger, newer ships. More mechanized. At the bottom of the list were old cargo ships run by shady businesses. Sometimes called tramp steamers, these ships and their non-union crews carry things that few other shipping companies would even touch. Things like live animals, or loose product like coal or gravel. Tramp steamers go to ports that other can’t get into or just don’t want to. Tramp steamers are manned by the dregs of the seagoing community. Most had criminal records, came from far away places with shady pasts. But they were willing to work for the minimum wages they paid, just to have work. Most hated living with people ashore.

Tramp steamers were old and slow. Voyages could take months. When the crew weren’t working, these types were usually drinking booze or smoking weed or hash on the after decks.

Keeping a crew was always a constant struggle for the captains of these old tubs. Some would offer a bonus at the end. A good captain would keep his crew entertained with a few women on these long trips, too. It was well known that a happy crew would stay, and minimize his constant worry in getting new crewmembers. In fact, taking women to sea was an old seafaring tradition, but lately it was more like sex slavery. Girls were traded, bought and sold like currency among tramp steamers and a few of the larger fishing boats.

Captains needed a person who could get him these women, and for them, Eduardo Martinez was their man. Every tramp steamer captain in the Caribbean had Eduardo’s number. Eduardo would sell them quality young women for $800 apiece. All they had to do was stop outside San Juan and a boat would meet them. They could then keep the women as long as they wanted. There were others in the sex trade business of course, but Eduardo always produced the best. Though crews weren’t too picky, a fresh supply from Eduardo always resulted in the lowest turnover rate among crews. His only problem today was volume. He was barely in business with three captains because of his limited supply.

Eduardo lived south of San Juan, Puerto Rico. He had at least two suppliers in the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Cuba, Jamaica. But authorities in these countries we always after people in his trade. He was always risking arrest by police or federal agents. So, one day he bought an old transport airplane from a local cargo company that was going out of business. It was an ancient DC-3 with long-range fuel tanks. He began finding sources along South America’s northern Caribbean coast. He began doing business in Venezuela, Columbia, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and even Honduras. These countries had many small towns and villages, each willing to supply him with what he needed. Local authorities rarely got involved, mostly because in remote areas there were no authorities. His deal was simple: Provide three girls, all under the age of eighteen, every week. Every week, his plane would fly down there, paying them $100 in cash for each girl deemed worthy. For the locals, this was a month’s wages, per girl. When they had three, they would call this number. No beaten or hurt ones. No cripples. No negros. No old women.

Eduardo hired two old pilots. They would load drums full of fuel into the cargo hold, fly to the country of the day, make a couple of stops and refuel, then fly home. All of this with the radios turned off of course. The fuel would cost him almost $1000. The six girls were another $600.

He got the word out, and soon calls started coming in. Instead of saying he was fresh out, he could now say, sure- where and when? One dozen to the Hogo Trader; next Wednesday. Fourteen to the SS Diablo; two weeks from now. The vessels would only come near San Juan to take delivery. Eduardo had a small cruiser for running them out to the ships in international waters. More calls kept coming in. Word spread fast in the tramp steamer community. Eduardo’s rates were fair, his products were known for quality, and he was very reliable. He helped solve their crew problems. They put money in his pocket.

Eduardo’s girls were considered top of the line. All were girls under the age of eighteen. There was no lower limit. Some were as young as eight. Normally, men would kidnap them from nearby villages, then wait for the airplane. When the old airplane came into their remote airstrip, men would inspect the girls, pay them, then leave. They always wanted three girls, so the locals would often bring more, in case any were rejected. Any left behind would become theirs to enjoy. Then, the plane began arriving with more dollars, and more girls were taken on board.

Eduardo now had daily flights arriving at night with their human cargo at his small airport near the coast. Venezuela was a big source, with thousands of square miles of jungle. At first, he averaged 30 girls a week. Eduardo had a hangar at the airport with an underground warehouse built beneath it. In here, he built cages. Each cage had twelve to eighteen bunks in it, along with a few toilets. At the end was a shower room. SILENCE was the only rule. When the girls would arrive late at night, they’d be brought into the holding cages and divided up according to the most recent orders. Each cage contained a separate order.

Eduardo made sure his girls, his product as he called them, were clean. They all had to take showers daily. Hired women would put some cheap make-up on them; brush their hair. For almost all, this was the first make-up they’d ever wore. Almost all of these young girls had grown up living near poverty level in remote areas of their country before being kidnapped. All the girls were Latinos in appearance. Eduardo didn’t accept blacks, for their price was too low. All his Latino girls had the usual black hair and light brown skin. Only a few were old enough to have pubic hair yet. He had a couple of guards with prods who would zap any girl who didn’t stay quiet. Each girl got one white t-shirt to wear. This t-shirt was usually the last thing they would wear for the next six months to a year.

Eduardo charged customers $800 per girl. Every time his airplane landed; Eduardo made a minimum $3200 profit. As business grew, so did his profits. More and more girls began arriving on the cargo plane.

The day would arrive for one group. They’d be taken outside, put into a van and driven to a remote dock. A small cruiser would then take them far out to sea. They’d meet a ship, unload the women and go back. After the girls were taken on the ship, the crew would have their way with them until the voyage ended. No refunds; no returns.

Slave girls had a dark future. Most would be sold or traded to other ships, or local tribes ashore. Those that went to the fishing trawlers were often used for bait at the end of the trip. A dead body would attract a lot of crabs. Other girls were sold to other ships. On more than one occasion, a ship had learned the naval authorities were coming to do an at-sea inspection. The girls would be tied up or chained together quickly, then thrown overboard. One crew, during a drunken party on deck one night, poured fish guts into the sea, attracting sharks. Each girl was then made to walk down a plank blindfolded until she fell in. They’d make the other watch as she was eaten alive by the hungry creatures, screaming only a few times before drowning as she was dragged underwater. None had survived. Yet another crew, bringing African lions to a zoo in Panama, decided to starve the lions for a few days. Once the girls came onboard, a rope was thrown over a pipe above the lion’s cage. A girl was tied to the rope, then the crew began to antagonized the lions, getting them very worked up. They all chanted as the girl was slowly lowered to the lions, making the other girls watch. “This is what will happen to you if you do not do what you are told!” The girl was slowly lowered, the lions circling, leaping. One slashed her foot, then her leg as she was slowly lowered. She screamed and screamed. Once the lions got ahold of her torso though, they tore her to pieces. Body organs went everywhere as the lions savagely ripped her apart. Just to teach the others a lesson when they first came onboard.

On average, between tramp steamers, long-haul Chinese tankers and the larger fishing boats, Eduardo was now move 50-70 girls a week through his ‘hotel underground.’ Chin Lu Zan was a captain for Loto Lines, a shipping line that transported oil between South & Central America to various small ports in China. His ship was the Loto Su. To keep his crew of thirty men from going crazy during these long voyages, he often called Eduardo. Captain Lu Zan would ask for ten teenage girls and Eduardo would bring them out to the ship at the appointed time and place, before heading to China. Most of the girls were poverty-level, all Latinos. After just a day or two at sea, the girls would become quite used and abused. Captain Lu Zan, he longed for something better than some poor barefoot girl from the jungle to be his maid and sex slave during these long trips. When he called Eduardo and ordered 15 locals for the crew, he told him his needs. “Listen, Eduardo. This is for the crew. The company pays for this. But me, I want better. I’ll pay for it myself if I have to, but no more jungle girls.” Eduardo asked what he was looking for.

“An American, or European girl. White. No negros, no latinos. White. Blonde preferred. Very young, but with big tits. Can you do this?” Eduardo said he’d need time to work on the details. He’d see him in San Juan at the rendezvous in two weeks with the fifteen girls. Maybe he’d have something for him then.

Eduardo made a few phone calls. One man put him in touch with another. Eventually, one man said yes, he can do that, but they’re expensive. Very expensive. Like BMW expensive. Eduardo said he didn’t care. All the man said was that a lot of cruise ships come and go from San Juan. Could he get one by next week? Maybe, the man said. He’d call him back. Eduardo said whoever it is, it must be pristine. Very pristine.

Two days before the Chinese tanker Loto Su made the rendezvous, Eduardo got a call. Pictures were sent. A deal was made. Karen Ann Stevenson was a fifteen-year-old girl from Illinois. She’d been on the Princess Caribbean with her family, out of Miami on a cruise of the Caribbean. In the crowded bazaar of San Juan’s seaside tourist port, she’d gotten separated from her family. Suddenly, without any warning or time to scream or fight, she was pulled and thrown into a small van and driven quickly away. Two men held her while a third drove rapidly. Soon they arrived at a farmhouse. They pulled her inside as she struggled, fighting to get free, crying out, yelling. Inside, one man said in perfect English, “You will simply stand here while we take some pictures of you. Then we will take you back to your family. That’s all, little one. This won’t take long.” He asked her questions as she got photographed. She told them Karen, she was fifteen last month, a freshman in high school this fall at Belleville High. They took pictures of every part of her. The cameraman left with the one who seemed to be in charge. The other two tied her up, saying “Eets what we have to do little one, to get you back to your parents safely.” She really objected to the tape on her mouth. A large canvas bag was put over her and they carried her in it out to the car.

Karen was 15 alright. You’d never guess it to look at her, though. She had size 33 C-cup breasts, blonde hair that reached almost to her cute, bigger teenage butt. She seemed older, but her perfect, young-girl skin proved she was just fifteen. Blue eyes, full lips, she was definitely one hot American teenage girl. She even had freckles on her cheeks. For Eduardo, she was perfect. He’d paid $30,000 for her, and he would charge the captain $50k. A lot of money for sure, but very profitable compared to these ‘jungle girls.’ For this to work, she had to be exceptional. Perfect hair and make-up. A suitcase full of sexy clothing. It was a long trip by oil tanker to China and back. She’d have to be worth the money. He would make sure she was. He even included a sexy maid’s costume.

He took her to his warehouse south of the city. There he had fifteen girls, mostly from Guatemala, ready to go to the Loto Su on Friday night. He took this girl inside, put her in a separate cage. He had one of his women workers get her clothing sizes, then went to the local store and bought her the sexy outfits, most of them one-size too small.

His hope was that word would quickly spread. Other captains on similar ships would want the same thing. Those Chinese were well paid. This could be very big. So, the first had to be perfect. And this Karen was. In her isolated cage, he made her get undressed and take a shower in the filthy shower room in the warehouse. Afterwards, she was taken back to her cage nude. She’d have no use for these clothes anymore. Two old women came, fixed her hair and make-up. Eduardo kept saying, “Make her prettier! She must be like a super-model!” When they’d finished, she was indeed a sight to see. A man stood nearby, ready and willing to use his taser on her if she disobeyed.

This American girl stood 5’4” tall, weighed 108 pounds. She had these big, pink nipples and tits that just stuck almost straight out at her young age. He looked her over very carefully. She’d better be worth it. He asked one of the women to check if she was a virgin. She reached between the girl’s legs; “Si, si, virgen, senior.” She had some pubic hair, but not much. He decided to leave it as is. He was so excited just looking at her, he’d later grab one of the girls from a different cage and rape her tonight. Maybe that really young one...

For the next two days Karen was kept in the cage. On Friday evening, the old ladies gave her a once-over again, then had her put on this very tight black dress. No underwear, her breasts bulging out the top while the bottom barely covered her butt. They took her out and made her get into a Ford Explorer. She saw several girls, quite a few, getting into a van in front of them. They looked poor, with only a t-shirt for clothing. Many looked to be just little kids. The two vehicles took off. They drove to a dock by the ocean, where her and the other girls were made to get into this boat, like a cabin cruiser. The boat got underway, started heading out to sea. They moved along, rolling some with the swells, the engine making a loud diesel sound. Karen noticed the other girls were staring at her, staying away from her. They were all very young, like her age or younger. They all had on the same cheap make-up. Here she was, in this tight black dress, high heels, hair all done up with fancier makeup on. She asked “Ablo engleish?” which she thought meant do you speak English. No one spoke. They did talk among themselves more and more, always in Spanish. They were all Latino looking, with black hair. They were almost all crying, the older ones trying to calm the others, though obviously they, like herself, had no idea where they were going or what was going on. Or maybe they did.

After a couple of hours, the boat started to slow. Karen looked outside and saw a large ship nearby. It was white with strange red symbols painted on the side. Japanese or Chinese maybe? The boat slowed more, then they were all made to come up to the main deck of the cruiser. The boat was close to a ramp the ship had lowered. The ship seemed to ride very low in the water. It was huge, like an island. It didn’t move at all. Each girl was tossed from the boat to the ship. Karen went last, helped by several men. A Latino man in a suit followed her. The boat the pulled away as they were all led inside.

The girls were led down a passageway. The man in the suit told her in English, “Go right, girl, go right, down here.” She let him lead her along, quietly asking if he knew what was going on, why was she here? He only said, “Keep moving girl. There, up those stairs.” They went up several levels and then a crewman led them to a room. Inside, Karen saw a short oriental man in a uniform behind a desk. He apparently knew the man in the suit. They spoke in broken English.

Captain Lu Zan said “Ah, my friend, Eduardo! Greetings! We finally meet! So, is this what I asked for?”

Eduardo replied, shaking his hand warmly, “My friend, Captain Lu Zan! It is a pleasure! The pleasure is all mine! Yes, I do believe I have what you have asked for. But I must tell you, this is not cheap.”

Lu Zan walked around Karen, looking at her closely. “Tell me about this one,” he said. Eduardo told him, “Fifteen years old a week ago. American, from Illinois, America. Virgin. A schoolgirl, on vacation with her family on one of the cruise ships.” They discussed her physical condition. Eduardo assured him she was in perfect health. He told Lu Zan about the clothing in the suitcase. “These should do well to keep her looking good for a long time. All fine, quality material.” It was indeed a large suitcase, with over thirty different outfits inside. It was being held by a crewman, outside by the ladder.

Captain Lu Zan was more than impressed. He could care less what the price was; he had to have this imperialist American teenager. She was short, very sexy, big tits and a nice ass. Sexy legs, and that dress was so damn hot. He asked how much. Eduardo told him, $50,000 American dollars. He pretended to think hard about it. Then he smiled and “OK, you have deal.” They shook hands.

Karen wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she was definitely getting a very bad feeling about this. She wondered if she’d just been sold or something. Sometimes the obvious wasn’t always obvious to Karen. Maybe she was just going to have to be his maid or something. The something part was what scared her. She watched him walk to the safe, open it and take out three stacks of money. He put them in a small bag, handed it to the man in the suit. They bowed, shook hands, then walked out together. Karen was standing in this office, not sure what she was supposed to do. So she just stood there, backing slowly up to a wall, shaking and getting even more scared. This dress was so small. She just wanted to go home ... She started crying, again.