Spillover.

Containers are clean, ships operations are not.

PICTURES OF THE SPILL-SPOILED GALAPAGOS ISLANDS TURN our stomachs and our hearts much the same way similar shots did years back, when the drunken captain of the Exxon Valdez tested his luck off the coast of Alaska. But these accidents are just visible reminders of an attitude that pervades much of the shipping industry: Environment, schmironment. Expenses, expenses, that's what we have to keep down.

That's why the seas are full of rust buckets too rickety to be considered useful for scrap. That's why oil tanker industry bigwigs spent millions to lobby against mandates for double-hulled tankers, those with a second metal skin to contain spills. Shipping lines simply seek the cheapest journey between two ports. Most transport bosses say, "Modern cargo moves neatly in a box, so why do I have to worry about the environment?"

True, containers are clean, but the way ships often operate is not.

As soon as most container ships reach international waters--or get just far enough from a port to be seen--the first mate calls, "Captain, permission to dump trash." More often than not, the captain responds, "Permission granted."

I've seen this happen on countless ships going to and from Central and South America. When asked about it, sailors shrug off concerns with: "Happens everywhere. What's the big deal?"

Fact is, just about every commercial ship on the ocean uses the water as its dumpster. One ship's not that bad. But there are thousands of them sailing the seas, dumping their trash. Legally, there's not much that can be done. The entire operation reflects a mindset that runs from top to bottom and back to the top again.

To be sure, some old sailor practices are now recognized as environmental hazards. Such is the case with ballast water. To keep a ship trim, ships will load with water in one port then empty water in another--usually in foreign shores--as they take on cargo or to enter shallow waters.

Studies show that when ships release water from one port in another, they free non-native organisms. The result often has been anything but pretty. With no natural predators, these organisms invade entire eco-systems, killing indigenous undersea flora and fauna.

Hidden horrors. Around the globe, marine science labs are finding ways to neutralize this effect. In cases where the damage has already been done there's some hope of saving or restoring endangered aquatic areas. In the meantime, ships should look for alternative methods. In this day and age of environmentally conscious consumers, maybe they could charge extra for "eco-safe" cargo transport.

Unfortunately, most damage done is invisible to consumers. What happens at sea often happens out of sight, out of mind and out of this or that jurisdiction.

Like rats, polluters and pollution hide from the light of day, offering only an occasional, hideous glimpse of their effects, such as when oil-soaked animals wash onto the pristine shores of the Galapagos Islands.

Unique species of marine iguanas, giant tortoises and mockingbirds reside on the archipelago that inspired Charles Darwin's theory of evolution. Man's behavior hardly seems to have evolved. Rather, it resembles more closely the assessment of Hans Zinsser.

In his 1934 book, "Rats, Lice, and History," the epidemiologist lumps men and rats together. Both are unstable socially, commercially and economically, he says, "utterly destructive to other forms of life." In our haste to open trade lanes and move cargo more quickly and cheaply, we have done little to disprove Zinsser's sad indictment.