Look up from the dock, and the Morning Christina is more akin to a skyscraper than any floating vessel has any right to be. Despite its cutesy name, the 656-foot-long vehicle carrier ship is a gargantuan metal monster tasked with crisscrossing the world’s oceans like you and I commute between home and work. On this day, it’s docked in Ulsan, South Korea, home to Hyundai Motor Group’s massive industrial complex, and the world’s single largest automobile factory. I’ve been given rare access to the ship and a high-visibility vest.
As I walk up the ramp into the ship’s belly, I’m told I can’t take any photos of it or its cargo. That’s an odd thing to tell a journalist, though understandable in some circumstances. I asked nicely if I could be given some leeway on the photo situation, of course. Then a minute later, I asked again, and after a quick conversation between the automaker’s PR and ship personnel, I was given a thumbs up. “Just no photos of the cars,” they said.
It’s my first time inside a cargo ship, and despite having been in large cruise ships before (as both passenger and crew), I’m in awe of the size, layout, and overall vibe. The air inside the ship is cold and steely. The smell is a mixture of tire rubber, industrial grease, exhaust fumes, and a pinch of sea salt. It’s not designed to be welcoming, comfortable, or even practical. It just has to transport as many cars as possible safely and efficiently.
The mood of the port workers and some of the ship’s crew around us is quite hectic, too, with everyone running around either speaking Korean, Filipino, English, or a combination of the three. To be fair, they are working on a tight schedule, and a bunch of journalists are getting in the way. I’d be annoyed too. Should everything go according to plan, the Morning Christina would be loaded with thousands of cars by the end of the day and depart for the Port of Los Angeles soon after that.
Car Exports
The concept of exporting vehicles via cargo ship isn’t new, nor is it complex, per se. You just roll a bunch of cars inside a ship, and send the ship on its way. When it reaches its destination, you drive the cars off. Straightforward, sure, but there’s a lot that goes into carrying nearly 7,000 cars across open waters for nearly two weeks. And if we learned anything from the Ever Given in 2021 and the Felicity Ace in 2022, it’s that a lot can go wrong.
The Ulsan industrial complex where the Morning Christina was docked opened its doors in 1968 and quickly began producing the *drumroll please* Ford Cortina. That’s right, the first car built by Hyundai was actually a Ford. By 1975, Hyundai decided to produce its own unique model, and that’s when the Pony was born. Just a year later, Hyundai got into the export business and began shipping the Pony to about a dozen countries.
As seen in these photos taken at Hyundai’s Ulsan museum, the logistics surrounding vehicle exports at the time were drastically different from what they are now. For starters, workers used to wrap nylon nets around the Pony’s tires and attach those to a crane. The crane would then hoist each car into the air and lower it onto the top deck of the cargo ship. From then on, cars would be parked as if they were sitting outside of a Walmart. Several methods were explored in the early days, with cars even put into containers at some point.
Korea ventured into the RoRo (roll on, roll off) ship business in the late ’70s, with shipping line Eukor and Hyundai rolling out their first model in 1980, drastically improving the export logistics process. From that point on, acres of parking lots covered in cars would get driven into the various decks of a ship, saving the automaker tons of time and money. And as I witnessed that day, the drivers responsible for loading these cars into the ships take their job very seriously, and do not drive slowly. They were zoomin’.
Inside the Ship
If you were blindfolded, brought into the Morning Christina, and had the blindfold removed, you’d think you’re in a multi-level parking garage at first glance. There’s almost nothing that screams “you’re floating on water.” Perhaps the only giveaway are the floors that are metal instead of concrete, but the ramps, columns, doors, and just about everything else resembles a parking garage.
Pay close attention, however, and you’ll notice small details that tell a larger story. For example, there is grip tape everywhere. Things can get damp and slippery, and with all surfaces being metal, the crew has to get creative to get around safely.
You’ll also see lots of signs posted in various places, most of them explaining how to properly park and secure the vehicles. Others warn drivers about the various shift patterns in vehicles and how the reverse gear can be in different places depending on the pattern. Others focus on maritime and fire safety, as well as rules and expectations while at sea.
By far, the most noticeable element of the ship’s innards is… a little tiny void, times a billion. Look down at your feet, and no matter where you are standing inside the ship, there will be a hole, and another hole, and another hole. Holes on the flat decks, holes on the ramps, holes everywhere. Why? They’re all anchoring points.
No, not the ship’s anchor, of course. Anchoring points for the straps that secure the cars. Each vehicle that comes onboard is secured to the ground via straps or chains; this way, they don’t move around and cause damage during their journey. Even during normal weather conditions—and despite their size—these ships rock quite a bit. If things get choppy, the cargo must be properly secured to avoid a disaster. Imagine 6,000-plus cars becoming bowling balls in the middle of the Pacific. Not pretty.
“I’m the Captain Now”
There aren’t any elevators to get from the bottom deck to the top—or if there were, they didn’t let us use them. This meant climbing up seven decks in metal staircases, just like the ones you see sailors using in warship movies. Narrow, steep, freshly-painted, cold to the touch. Once at the top, I emerged from the darkness to a lovely view of the Port of Ulsan, where most of the Hyundai Group’s cars come from. After snapping a few photos, I was ushered into the bridge, which is essentially the ship’s cockpit.
It turns out the captain of the Morning Christina, a lovely fellow from the Philippines, found that famous Captain Phillips quote pretty funny. I guess every outsider says that when they finally reach the bridge of the ship, not that there are many of them, I suppose.
“We are headed to California,” said the captain.
“How long will the journey take?” I asked.
“Thirteen days.”
“What’s the ship’s fuel capacity?”
“Fourteen days.”
A man of few, but important words, he was. A true seafarer.
The captain and his crew of 20 showed us around the bridge and pointed out some basic controls. He highlighted the thrust lever and explained that the ship’s maximum speed is 19 nautical knots or roughly 21.9 mph. You can see it outlined on a chart next to the lever itself, which reads Nav Full, Full, Half, Slow, Dead Slow, and STOP. If pulled downwards, the lever will activate reverse at the same speeds: Dead Slow, Slow, Half, Full, and Emergency Full.
In a separate podium-like contraption is a wheel, which operates the rudder and allows the ship to turn. Of course, there are a thousand other buttons, levers, switches, and phone receivers that the captain and his crew will need to operate during any given mission.
“How long do you stay in California, and do you bring anything back?” the captain was asked.
“We turn right back around and come back empty,” he said.
Bon Voyage
Despite the crew’s friendliness, you could feel the sense of responsibility in the air. It’s a tense environment that demands the utmost care and precaution. Extreme weather, a fire, a collision, or even a pirate encounter, the captain is ultimately responsible for the lives of his men, as well as tens of millions of dollars worth of cargo, and not to mention the ship itself. Many more like them circumnavigate the globe delivering the goods we rely on day in and day out. It’s a thankless job.
One after another after another, thousands of Hyundai, Genesis, and Kia’s best-selling cars and SUVs were loaded into the floating warehouse. All of them fresh out of one of the five factories that make up the Ulsan complex, which in 2023 produced 1.5 million vehicles. It’s not just the largest one in terms of footprint, but also in terms of production.
Unlike other factories, automotive or otherwise, Ulsan only operates two eight-hour shifts, for a total of 16 production hours per day. Still, its yearly output can be broken down into 125,000 cars produced each month, or 31,250 each week, or 4,464 each day. And if you really must know, that’s 279 each working hour.
Safe travels, cars.
Email the author at jerry@thedrive.com