Surviving the Serra.

Truckers must foil hijackers to move cargo along Brazil's busiest and most dangerous roadway.

THE LOCALS CALL IT GAROA--A FINE DRIZZLE THAT SOAKS EVERYTHING. Hats, umbrellas--nothing stops it and, as he inspects a Trans Postes truck at the Brazilian trucking company's terminal just outside the city of Sao Paulo, the most dispatcher Antonio Carlos Silva can do to keep his eyes clear is swipe his ample forearm across his brow.

Despite the soaking spray, Silva and his driver, Paulo S. de Lima, are thoroughly reviewing the safety checklist before signing off on the vehicle. It is loaded for a short trip, a 45-mile jaunt down the Serra do Mar mountainside to the port of Santos. "We have to make sure about everything," Silva says. He, more than anyone, knows what this kind of weather could mean on this particular route. Traffic jams. Rock slides. Hijackers.

In a country where more than two-thirds of all cargo travels by truck and robberies are the norm, this road from South America's biggest city to its largest port is the worst of all and it's getting worse. According to cargo transport companies, the number of hijackings increased by a third to more than 1,700 in 1999, compared with 1998 when US$100 million worth of merchandise was stolen in the Sao Paulo area. Wilson de Avellar, manager of trucking company Sax, says, "Draw a circle of a 50-kilometer radius around Sao Paulo. That's where it all happens.

Slow-moving targets. Dispatcher Silva doesn't need to be reminded. Less than a year ago, arriving back in town with a load of paper rolls, the 47-year-old trucker was stuck in traffic on the city's Marginal expressway, one of the busiest and most congested in the city. "It was 8 o'clock on a Friday night in Sao Paulo," Silva says. "And it was raining."

The nearby Tiete River was merging into the far outside lane as the cars and trucks muddled slowly ahead. Trapped, Silva sat at the wheel of his rig "just wishing the traffic would move."

The only thing that moved was the steel barrel of a small revolver--to the side of his face. "This guy, he was the chief. He said if I didn't resist, then everything would be all right. All they wanted was the cargo," Silva recalls.

In a flash, three other thieves popped open the trailer, unloaded the paper and moved it to another smaller truck on a rocky side street perpendicular to the expressway. And just like that, the cargo disappeared into the favelas, or slums, that darken the cities of Brazil. "These people are poor," Silva said. "And the times are hard."

In so many ways, the robbery of Silva's cargo was a textbook case. In the middle of traffic on a busy road, trucks are easy prey as they lumber slowly along. The nimble bandits descend quickly from nearby side streets and poor roadside neighborhoods. They often know what is inside the trailer before they strike. "They see what cargo is being loaded into the trucks and radio ahead," says Nivaldo Faria, logistics manager for freight forwarder Fritz Companies in Sao Paulo.

The easier cargo is to sell, the more dangerous it is to carry. Almost two thirds of all hijacking losses, financially speaking, involve cigarettes, electronic equipment and food. The thieves don't even bother to unload and carry the really expensive cargo, like radios or TV sets. They simply steal the whole trailer.

While the most frequently stolen items are easy to identify, statistics about robberies are sketchy because most heists go unreported--many trucking companies prefer to deal directly with their clients rather than pay higher insurance premiums or go through the lengthy process of reporting the crimes to the police.

Eye in the sky. Shippers and truckers are now taking more precautions. Fritz, for example, hires armed escorts for some of the more obvious, more easily disposed of cargo. But such insurance is expensive. Just to make a short trip down the dangerous road to Serra do Mar, for example, an escort car with two armed guards and a cell phone will cost Fritz about $300. By comparison, the cost of shipping a container of electronics that same route is only about $450.

Trucking company Sax is spending a few thousand dollars per trailer to install special satellite tracking systems to keep an eye-in-the-sky on their cargo. With an Omni SAT transmitter hidden on the vehicle, the company can pinpoint the exact street corner where its trailer is located at any given time. If that cargo fails to pass through a designated checkpoint by a specified time, or strays off its appointed path, Sax knows it's time to call the authorities.

The satellite system helps to protect the cargo, but doesn't do much for the driver. It's a risk that Trans Postes' Silva no longer faces since he has become a dispatcher. But every day, he sends younger drivers like 29-year-old Paulo S. de Lima into the trenches. So far, the seven-year trucker veteran has managed to avoid any conflicts with hijackers. "Gracas a Deus," he says as he pulls himself into the truck cab. He makes one final check of his paperwork, folds the logbook and tosses it up on the dashboard.

The truck lurches out of the terminal toward the port of Santos. At the first stoplight, De Lima leans over to call hello to a fellow driver. Even though the two are traveling the same route, they will have little chance to talk again. They have no CB radios or cell phones. Almost half of Brazil's truckers have no communications equipment.

"My usual route is down to Argentina," he says, pulling to a stop at a light. Ten days on the road. Sometimes, his trips take him away for up to three weeks from his wife, Andrea, and two-year-old daughter Eduarda, whose picture he keeps at his fingertips in the cab. "I miss them but..."

But at least he knows he stands a very good chance of coming home alive. "They have robberies in Argentina," he says. "But they never do anything to the drivers. Here, you never know. Until now, I have been lucky. But we are all afraid."