It would be well if shipping clerks engaged in the export trade would make a careful study of the geography of the Latin American countries, and the various ways of routing goods, as well as the topography of each state. This would do much toward eliminating complications. As an illustration of the ignorance so frequently displayed in this connection, let me recite what happened to a joint shipment of beer and mineral water, intended for Leon, Nicaragua. In ordering goods from this country the Latin American merchant will often have a shipment made up of goods from different cities. He will instruct or request the exporter living at the port from which the shipment is to be made, to assemble the several cases which make up his various orders, and send them under one consular invoice, his idea being to save money, in the many incidental charges made by consuls and those handling his freight. The beer came from Milwaukee and the mineral water from the warehouse in New York City. The shipping instructions read as follows:
“Ship via Isthmus of Tehuantepec, to Salina Cruz then via first opportunity to Leon, Nicaragua.”
The intellectual shipping clerk could see no valid reason for sending goods intended for Nicaragua through Mexico, so he took upon himself their routing, and as a result the goods were sent direct from New York to Bluefields, Nicaragua, on the east coast of that country, with instructions to a forwarding agent there to dispatch them to their destination on the west coast. That was three years ago and the last I heard of them was that they had been sold by the customs authorities to pay storage and other accumulated charges. Of course the forwarding agent in Bluefields realized that it would be easier to send goods to the North Pole than across the country, as he had been instructed, owing to the fact that there was hardly a mountain trail over which they might be transported. In addition to this it would take several weeks to make the journey, and the expense would be enormous. These facts were communicated to the shippers who promptly decided to abandon the goods, replying that they did not care to do business in such an inaccessible country. As a result of this colossal error goods to the value of more than $2500 were lost to the exporter and the importer, and bad feeling engendered on both sides. The speculator who bought them at the custom house sale, told me that the contents of the bottles had deteriorated so that the goods were unsaleable after their long stay in the tropical warehouse, and as a result he was the possessor of a large quantity of bottles for which he had no sale.
Shipments from the United States to a foreign country require what is known as a consular invoice to accompany them. This document states briefly the contents of the invoice, its weight, and value, from whom and for whom intended. This paper must be made out before the consul or vice-consul of the country to which the goods are to be exported, the idea being to keep track of the business between the nations. This document should always be in the language of the country for which the shipment is intended, although all the consuls do not require this condition to be rigidly complied with. They must be taken to the office of the consul or vice-consul empowered to issue and sign them and as a rule he requires one or more copies for his files and for forwarding to his government, or to the customs authorities at the port to which the goods are going. For this service he charges a fee, generally specified by law. Great care should be exercised in the preparation of these papers, as before intimated. The importer generally states just how he wishes his goods declared in these documents and it is best to follow his commands instead of those which may be issued or suggested by some of the employes of the consular office, or even the consul himself. Besides if you follow your shipping instructions there can be no cause of complaint, on the part of the buyer, should unfavorable conditions arise.
It might be well in order to impress upon the reader’s mind some of the great difficulties to be overcome and the many handlings that are received by goods in transit to follow in detail a shipment actually made from New York City to La Paz, Bolivia, the route being the usual one taken by merchandise intended for that place. The order was placed in February, 1913, early in the month and the goods arrived December 22nd, 1913, being more than ten months on the way. When the American salesman received the order at La Paz, it was immediately forwarded by the next mail to New York City, where it arrived in about five weeks. The shipment of 854 cases was made from the factory in the middle West about the 15th of April, 1913, and the vessel containing them sailed from New York harbor, May 1st, 1913. Exceptionally bad weather in the Atlantic, delays in the Straits, storms in the southern Pacific, and time lost in discharging cargo intended for intermediate ports made it September 1st, before the goods reached Mollendo, in Peru, the port of discharge for the interior. Here, owing to bad weather, Mollendo being one of the worst ports on the Pacific, and the further fact that the roads and custom house were both congested with freight, a common occurrence in this part of the world, another month was consumed before the cases were finally got ashore and passed by the Peruvian authorities. A few more days were lost in loading them on the narrow gauge railroad that runs from Mollendo to Arequipa, an inland city of Peru, and the end of the first railway. Here the goods were trans-shipped to the road running to Puno, Peru, on the shores of Lake Titicaca, where they were again discharged and allowed to wait for many days before their turn came to be stowed on the small steamer plying across this perpetually storm-tossed lake in the clouds, to Guaqui, where after being put ashore they were again examined by the Bolivian customs officials. They were next placed on the train which took them across the wind swept plateaus of Bolivia, to the edge of the tea-cup rim, at the bottom of which La Paz is situated. Here again they were transferred, this time to an electric train which took them down the face of the canyon wall, 1500 feet, to the station at the outskirts of La Paz. At this point Indian cargadores took the cases, one at a time, on their backs and carried them to the merchant’s warehouse, where they were again opened, and checked up, after which they were repacked and sent on into the interior towns, mining camps and his branch stores, via llama, burro and mule.
In this shipment there was nothing unusual. It went over the route commonly selected and took about the average length of time. If you have followed its many handlings by rough men, in all kinds of weather, you will admit at once the necessity for strong packing cases and you will, I am sure, cease to wonder why it takes goods intended for interior cities so long to reach their goal.
A wise precaution, and one to be recommended for all shipments to Latin America, is to insure them against theft en route. This may add a little to the cost of the article, but it is the only protection against petty pilfering. The fact is that the minor employes of the custom houses, as well as the porters, trainmen and pack train attendants are so poorly paid, and so completely lacking in honesty that there is every tendency in the world to appropriate whatever appeals to their fancy. I have known what should have been cases of toilet soap to arrive at their destination, filled with scrap-iron, so as not to attract suspicion by their weight, and this after duty had been collected at the custom house and freight paid by the shipper. Unless there is an insurance against these depredations one has absolutely no protection, for it is practically impossible to prove where and by whom the theft was committed. Furthermore if a conviction were obtained it would mean that in future all goods bearing your particular shipping mark would be forever doomed to trouble.
I am always forced to laugh when I think of the experience of a traveller for a well-known baking company in the United States who was making his initial trip to South America. The port at which he landed was, as it generally is, the scene of a yellow fever epidemic. Fearful of contracting this disease he decided to take the first train for the capital, located in the mountains and as a rule free from the scourge which infests the port. Inasmuch as the train left early, he deposited his twelve sample cases at the custom house with the keys and the request that after they had been inspected one of the men whom he had tipped should send them by the evening train to his hotel. After waiting for three days without receiving the trunks, during which time he frequently sent telephonic messages to the customs authorities and telegraphed and wrote the United States consul on the subject, he decided to go in person, despite his fear of contracting fever, and secure his samples. You may imagine his surprise on reaching his cases to find every one empty—the cakes and biscuits and dainties had been eaten by the customs employes. Of course it was impossible to place the blame on any one, and his loud demands for redress resulted in the police escorting him to the railway station and threatening to arrest him if he persisted in continuing his demonstrations. His cable to the house,
“Samples eaten by the customs authorities. Send duplicates,”
confirmed the belief of his employers that he had gone suddenly insane and brought this brief reply:—