Ferry
Service's Dominance Draws Rivals' Anger
The
New York Times - July 22, 2003.
By
CHARLES V. BAGLI and KEVIN FLYNN
No
one is laughing at Arthur's Folly anymore.
Arthur
E. Imperatore Sr., a tough-talking former trucker,
has turned his romantic notion of reviving ferry service in New York Harbor
into a $73-million-a-year business that some experts say is a model for
privately run mass transit.
His
lone ferry of 17 years ago has grown into a fleet of 48 catamarans and other
vessels that operate 25 routes between New Jersey and New York. In the past
three years, ridership at his company, New York Waterway, has increased to
60,000 daily, and profits have tripled to $6 million a year. His boats carry
more than 90 percent of the private ferry passengers in the harbor.
"We
are a dedicated, innovative company that has almost single-handedly reinvented
a dead industry," said Arthur E. Imperatore Jr.,
40, who now runs the company founded by his 77-year-old father.
To
the Imperatores and the government agencies and
officials who have assisted the company in its rise, New York Waterway's
dominance is entirely justified: it was in the business first, was steadfast in
its commitment through lean years and has been a proven, reliable operator in
meeting the region's growing demand.
But
to others, chiefly Waterway's emerging rivals in the industry, the company's
virtual monopoly has been helped by what they see as its status as a favorite
of government.
The
government has given it $27 million in subsidies and $26 million in loan guarantees,
and is paying $250 million to build four terminals that Waterway will operate.
Some of the financing is the first Federal Transit Administration money ever
spent on a privately run ferry terminal.
The
company has hired a government regulator who once oversaw the ferry business,
and the Imperatores, their companies and associates
have plowed a quarter of a million dollars into the campaigns of government
officials in Albany, New York City and even Alaska, the home state of a
congressman who helps oversee the industry.
Now
the United States attorney's office in Manhattan and the Port
Authority of New York and New Jersey have opened a joint inquiry into
Waterway's performance. In addition to investigating claims by rivals that
Waterway has improperly limited competition by hoarding boats and controlling
access to landings, investigators are exploring whether it defrauded the
federal government out of hundreds of thousands of dollars in emergency money
provided after Sept. 11, 2001, an allegation the company has denied.
"I
think it's obvious that Waterway has a favorite-son status with the Port
Authority," said Bruce Boyle, who runs a ferry service to Manhattan from
Jersey City. He has told regulators that he has been barred from certain
landings controlled by Waterway.
In
New York, ferry feuds date back two centuries to the rivalry between Col. John
Stevens, a maritime engineer, and Robert Fulton, whose steamboats dominated the
harbor. The Imperatores say the allegations against
them have sprung from similar antagonism. Among those challenging Waterway for
a share of the market is New York Water Taxi, whose chairman, Douglas Durst, is
an influential Manhattan developer.
"Our
accomplishments," said Arthur Imperatore Jr.,
"clearly have generated envy and resentment among certain other operators
who can only benefit from having us under a cloud."
An
Industry Is Reborn
Arthur
Imperatore Sr. displayed a gambler's nerve in 1986
when he opened the first ferry service in two decades between New Jersey and
Manhattan.
He
had already earned a fortune as the owner of a short-haul trucking company, APA
Transport. His businesses were a major distributor for The New York Times. He
was celebrated for having stood up to organized crime.
"The
trucking industry," he once said, "is not to be confused with Sunday
school."
But
real estate was a new venture for Mr. Imperatore when
he bought two miles of dilapidated New Jersey waterfront between Weehawken and
West New York. He envisioned a $5 billion Venetian city, complete with
tree-lined canals, hotels and town houses.
The
ferry would help to market the development by making Manhattan more accessible.
It ran to a run-down railroad pier the company had bought at West 38th Street,
and it quickly developed a nickname, Arthur's Folly. To his critics, Mr. Imperatore's plan was a testament to hubris. But unlike
prior ferry operators, he had recognized the need to use buses to shuttle
customers from remote waterfront landings to Midtown office towers.
"Arthur
was a visionary," said Gene Heller, who as an executive at Hartz Mountain sold a ferry business to the Imperatores in the late 1980's.
Mr.
Imperatore's city never came to pass, but his ferry
business grew. In 1988, the Port Authority hired him to run boats between
Hoboken and the World Financial Center to relieve overcrowding on the PATH
trains.
The
company lost money for its first seven years, officials said. But Mr. Imperatore added routes and pressed employees on the little
things, like litter in the parking lot. "The old man, in my mind, carved
something out of nothing," said Robert Bekoff, a
former New York ferry operator.
A
Flurry of Networking
For
all his pioneering style as a businessman, Mr. Imperatore
also understood the power of political friendship.
Fund-raising
dinners were often held for allies like Gov. George E. Pataki or Mayor Rudolph
W. Giuliani at the Imperatore family's waterfront
restaurant in Weehawken. Two New Jersey officials who could
be counted on in Washington, Senator Frank Lautenberg and Representative Robert
A. Roe, had ferries named after them. The company hired lobbyists in New
York City, Albany, Trenton and Washington.
"Mr.
Imperatore courted everyone and everybody he
could," said Jack Davis, a former Port Authority ferry official. He
recalled a party on Mr. Imperatore's 142-foot yacht
on a Halloween night 10 years ago with other authority executives and the
mayors of towns along the New Jersey shoreline.
Mr.
Bekoff, who now runs ferries in Florida, said he
tried to enter the New York market in the late 1990's but gave up after losing
$1 million because he could not compete with Mr. Imperatore's
contacts. "Could I hire people to run and build the boats? No sweat,"
he said. "Did I have a lobbyist in Trenton, in New York City? Did I know
the guy who knew the guy? No."
The
Port Authority's former supervisor of ferry programs was among those the
company wooed. The supervisor, Donald J. Liloia, was
overseeing the ferry industry, including New York Waterway, in 1995 when the
company asked if he would join it as a top executive. At that point, Mr. Liloia said, he recused himself
from direct oversight of Waterway. He took the job three months later.
Within
a year, Mr. Liloia said, he had helped New York
Waterway draft its bid for a contract with the Port Authority, which it
ultimately won. The agency's ethics code at the time barred former employees
from representing outside vendors for two years after their departure. Mr. Liloia said he attended only one meeting about the contract
and does not recall ever being told of such a restriction.
An
Unexpected Demand
By
2001, New York Waterway had expanded to the point where it had five routes to
Manhattan just from Jersey City and little serious competition. Then the World
Trade Center was attacked.
On
that day, Waterway boats spent hours transporting survivors. On subsequent days,
with PATH tunnels in ruins, many commuters turned to ferries, and other
companies began eyeing the market.
In
two months, Waterway's ridership jumped to 52,000 passengers a day from 33,000.
"We had five years of growth in six months," Arthur Imperatore Jr. said.
In
fact, officials feared that without the ferries, the economy of Lower Manhattan
might itself collapse. To help, the federal government agreed to subsidize four
new ferry routes and increase service on another. Other companies were seriously
contending for business. But all five contracts went to New York Waterway,
three of them without public bidding.
To
the Port Authority, which administered the contracts, the awards made sense.
Waterway was well financed, had plenty of boats and, in one instance, already
held the contract to provide the service the government sought to expand. But
to other operators, who knew the contracts were potentially worth millions of
dollars in subsidies, the awards were not warranted.
New
York Water Taxi challenged several of them, including
the decision not to seek bids on a $3 million contract to carry people from
Hunters Point in Queens to Manhattan.
Port
Authority officials at the time said they had to award the contract to Waterway
because it had a lease on the authority's landing at Hunters Point, from which
it had operated for years.
But
Waterway had shut down service there months earlier, citing low ridership, and,
with the authority's permission, had not paid rent in several years.
Water
Taxi said the lease was a flimsy reason to abandon public bidding. Authority
officials said they still felt a legal obligation to Waterway, which resumed
the service last September. They deny the assertion that they have favored the
company.
"Up
until recent years," the authority said in a statement, "N.Y.
Waterway was the only operator to respond to our requests for proposal."
A
Flood of Help
The
$27 million that the federal government ultimately provided for emergency ferry
service after Sept. 11 was supposed to ensure that boats would be ready when
commuters needed them, and it did. Paul Ward, who was Waterway's senior
operations manager, recalled in an interview the many nights he watched ferry
after ferry plow into the waters between Hoboken and Lower Manhattan. He did
not like what he saw.
The
federal government had agreed to pay to increase ferry services, as much as 200
percent if demand warranted. But the boats were often empty, he said. The runs
were unnecessary, he told superiors.
Nonetheless,
he said, he was told to run empty ferries late at night to reap the maximum
reimbursement.
"The
captains and crews complained that they were being forced to work overtime and
they're not even carrying anybody," Mr. Ward said. "We weren't helping
anybody, just putting money in New York Waterway's pockets."
Mr.
Ward quit last year when, he said, Waterway officials would not revise the
schedule. Waterway takes a different view.
"We
didn't have the latitude to make up the schedules," said Bill Bouffard, Waterway's chief financial officer. The
government had decided it wanted frequent service, he said, even in the off
hours, to replicate the lost PATH service.
Investigators
from the antitrust division of the United States attorney's office and the Port
Authority inspector general's office have interviewed Mr. Ward as well as rival
ferry operators, marina owners and boat captains. The rivals have told them
that Waterway chartered boats it did not need, drove up prices and prevented
its rivals from expanding.
Anthony
Colasanti, vice president of New York Fast Ferry,
which went out of business earlier this year, said companies without subsidies
could not afford the higher prices.
"We
were growing," Mr. Colasanti said. "We
could've kept growing. But we couldn't get boats."
In
one case, a ferry operator, Sea- streak, had a tentative deal this spring to
lease a boat for $50,000 a month, several operators said. Suddenly it was told
it could not have the boat. Waterway had agreed to pay twice the price.
Waterway
officials said that the company leased the boat because it needed it, and that
they did not know what the other company was offering. They denied creating a
spot shortage on the market, or trying to block other companies from landing
sites. They pointed to the ease with which they rounded up 34 boats last year
as part of the city's contingency plan for a transit strike.
Investigators
are also reviewing whether the company double-billed the government for some of
its emergency ferry services, they have said. To provide the additional hours,
the company augmented its own fleet with 10 chartered boats. Under its contract
with the Port Authority, it was to be reimbursed for its charter costs, plus
operating expenses like landing fees, insurance and crew.
But
investigators are examining whether the charter fees included some of the same
operating expenses that had already been billed separately.
Waterway
said the allegations of fraud are mistaken. It did not even earn a reasonable
return, it said, because its reimbursement rate was cut. To its mind, the
matter is nothing more than a billing dispute.
Four
New Terminals
Mass
transit has long been a low-margin business, and everything from the subway
system to private bus lines survives on government subsidies. But more than a
decade ago New York City and Port Authority officials decided it would cost too
much to give operating subsidies to private ferries, too. So they decided to
finance the construction of ferry terminals instead.
The
four new terminals being built today are an outgrowth of that policy. All will
be publicly owned, but operated by New York Waterway under contract. Two will
be built next to Waterway's current docks in Weehawken and Midtown. The other
two will replace the company's landings in Hoboken and at the World Financial
Center. All told, more than $250 million in government money will be spent.
At
two of the facilities, Waterway will pay something toward construction — $2
million at the Midtown terminal. It will also pay the city $150,000 in annual
rent, absorb the maintenance costs and kick in an escalating percentage of its
ticket revenues.
The
company currently charges $3 to $15 per trip, depending on the distance. The
PATH train fare from New Jersey to Manhattan is $1.50.
Rival
companies, which together have collected only a few million dollars in
government funds, say the terminals are another unfair bonus. Waterway, whose
own terminals were becoming cramped, will not have to pay to land its boats at
the new ones. It will keep much of the money from terminal concessions and
advertising sales. And New Jersey Transit will build a light-rail system to
deliver ferry riders to the Weehawken site.
New
York City officials, however, say the terminals will actually foster
competition. Other operators, for example, will be able to land in Weehawken
and Midtown, something they could not do while the terminals were privately
owned. They will also, under the contract, be able to use Waterway's buses. The
other companies will have to pay Waterway for these services.
"It's
troubling that our competitor has control of a government facility and it's
being left to them to set the rates that we will have to pay," said Mark
Baker, chief business officer for New York Water Taxi.
City
officials say New York Waterway will not be able to abuse its role.
"The
lease explicitly calls for nondiscriminatory access to connecting buses and
access to docking rights and terminal facilities," said Tom Cocola, a city transportation spokesman.
The
city has tried before to have ferry operators share a city-owned landing, Pier
11 near Wall Street. But Waterway took to running the pier, announcing
departures, distributing schedules and directing boats to landing slips. Water
Taxi complained its boats were kept waiting or were not announced.
Mr.
Bouffard of Waterway said no one mentioned any
problems to his company. "Somebody has to be the traffic cop," he
said.
Looking
to the Future
Rival
ferry operators say the city's administration of Pier 11 is typical of what
they see as public officials' nonchalance toward regulating the ferry industry,
even as it has become more lucrative.
The
Port Authority does not charge Waterway anything to land its boats at public
property. The company pays just $2 a year in rent, plus maintenance costs, for
the right to have its moorings on public property. When the new terminals are
built, the rent increases to $20 a year, plus maintenance and a share of excess
profits above 8 percent.
New
York City does charge to land at its piers. But the city only recently billed
the companies for charges dating back to 2001. Waterway, which the city says
owes $1 million, is disputing the fees.
Going
forward, transportation analysts say, an expanding network of ferries will
likely provide relief for crowded train lines and traffic-choked bridges. But
they say the region will have to decide in the coming years whether the market
is better served by a single, financially healthy operator — to whom the
government becomes increasingly wedded as its dominance extends — or an
assortment of competing rivals.
Carter
Craft, program director for the Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance, which
promotes greater use of ferries, is among those who say government must do more
to foster meaningful competition.
"That's
the only way," he said, "you will bring prices down to the point
where it's not just stockbrokers riding to Wall Street."