Work comes to those who waited: for 'casuals' hired on an as-needed basis at ports, jobs are plentiful.

THESE are heady days for John McConnell and other casual longshoremen at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.

For years, they spent days and even weeks at the hiring hall, waiting for work that only came in when there weren't enough full-time union dockworkers to cover a shift.

But with a major spike in container traffic this summer, casuals have been working six or seven days a week. "It's wonderful that there is more work," said McConnell, whose only lament is that there still aren't more union jobs.

The increase in traffic--thanks to a long-term sure in imports from China and other Asian countries--has convinced the steamship lines to hire 3,000 additional casuals at the ports and promote 1,000 casuals to registered status with the International Longshore and Warehouse Union.

Even though casual work can be dangerous, and doesn't provide health or pension benefits, it's highly sought after in an economy where well-paid blue-collar employment is increasingly scarce. The call for more casuals has elicited 400,000 applications and charges of favoritism in the hiring process. It's no wonder with so much at stake; McConnell gets a base pay of $25 an hour for work that doesn't require a college degree.

"These are not skilled jobs," said Dal Trader, container yard superintendent for the West Basin Container Terminal at the Port of L.A. "You have to have some common sense and a little bit of strength and that's it."

Becoming a union member

For veteran casuals like the 43-year-old McConnell, the demand for additional workers offers a chance to become a full-fledged ILWU member by year-end. (Promotions will be based on lifetime hours worked.) Union membership offers job security, full health benefits, a generous pension plan and enhanced status at the docks.

Together, the two ports moved 11.8 million 20-foot-equivalent container units last year and are on pace to shatter that record this year. To accommodate demand, more than 1,000 casuals show up daily to the hiring hall in Wilmington--most decked out in jeans, sneakers and T-shirts. (Before they hit the docks, they must change into steel-toe boots, hard hats and neon safety vests.)

This group supplements up to 7,000 ILWU workers who get the plum jobs--crane operators; ship, dock and yard bosses who act as foremen; and drivers of top-handlers, which resemble large forklifts.

Casuals draw assignments that are often more hazardous, such as directing traffic, positioning guide cones under containers being stacked by cranes, and "lashing" stacked containers together with long bars to prevent them from toppling.

Outside the casuals' hall, crowds begin to swell 1 1/2 to 2 hours before the 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. shifts. The melting-pot scene evokes the spirit of the late ILWU founder Harry Bridges, who formed the now-powerful union in 1934 by convincing workers that race battles would disrupt solidarity. Now, there are even women in the crowd.

Many line up at the food cart for the longshoreman's breakfast--coffee, breakfast burritos or Danishes. It's quick and cheap, and leaves plenty of time for cigarettes and chatter as they wait for the job assignments to be called out over the intercom.

Each casual is assigned a letter--McConnell's is X--and dispatchers continuously rotate through the alphabet, picking up each shift where they left off.

When there was less work, McConnell knew his letter would not be called if dispatchers were starting at A, B or C. Like other experienced casuals, he didn't bother to show up unless dispatchers started nearer to X, maybe at S or T.

Even then, McConnell had the system down cold.

"If it was close to an X, I'd get here at 6 a.m.," he said, on a day shift. "If I'm not so close, I could get a little lazier and show up at 6:30."

Since June, though, casual dispatchers have been running through the alphabet for both shifts every day. As a result, 500 to 600 casuals will get work on a given shift, versus the 200 to 300 before summer started.

'I felt like a starving squirrel'

McConnell remembers showing up at the hiring hall for 16 consecutive shifts over a period of eight days, only to be sent home each time. His letter was up, but there was simply no need for casuals.

"My full-time job was being at the casual hall not getting a job," said McConnell. "The casuals today have no idea what it's like to go without. I felt like a starving squirrel chasing a nut and there were no nuts to be found."

When they do get a job slip that lists the port, berth and specific task assigned, lesser-experienced casuals often have to ask for directions to locate their destination.

Ray Munoz was a casual from 1994 to 1995, when he left the industry to take care of his ailing father. (Casuals lose their cards if they don't work at least one day every six months.) When he returned in July, he found two ports that had undergone extensive facelifts, with new and expanded terminals.

"They will give you a map about where the terminal is, but you really don't have an idea where the ILWU parking is, the trucking is and where the berths are," said Munoz.

He said his bosses were "pretty lenient" the couple of times he was late for his station, but the terminal operators' payroll departments were not. Unlike registered longshoremen, who are on the clock as soon as they get their assignments, casuals are docked pay if they're late.

Each new casual receives several days of training in light equipment operation, longshoreman etiquette, safety procedures and dockworker rules before receiving an employment card from the Pacific Maritime Association, the steamship line employer group.

Despite the training, the dangers are always present. Terminal yards are a flurry of traffic--pickup trucks, container trucks, rail cars, top-handlers, smaller cranes called transtainers that stack and unstack containers, and small flatbed trucks called yard hustlers.

Benefits of union membership

Working on or near the vessels is dangerous, too, as one misstep could put a worker in the path of a crane boom or a falling 40-ton container, producing fatal results.

"It's like working around a stampeding herd of elephants," said Greg Mitre, who was a casual for five years before joining the ILWU's Local 13.

Besides better safety and prestige, benefits are also a draw to the ILWU. Registered union members are covered with an average of $42,000 per year in health benefits--including no co-pays. Casuals receive none.

Injured workers are taken to a doctor assigned by the PMA, who determines whether the injury is serious enough to warrant workers' compensation.

Jason Greenwald, a PMA consultant, says the workers' compensation system protects injured workers. But it's a bone of contention with casual workers.

McConnell says he tore a tendon in his finger after it was trapped under a piece of equipment in 2000, an incident that put him out of work for three months. It took so long for a specialist to recommend surgery that too much time had lapsed under the employer-paid agreement.

"You always have to go to the employer doctor before going to your own personal doctor," McConnell said.

As a result, "Casual longshoremen often don't get the appropriate care necessary."

Sometimes, he added, they also don't get much respect--the result of a class system he said still exists between the casuals and some ILWU members. Casual workers are periodically told they don't know how to do their jobs, he said, and are treated worse than their union peers when they make a mistake.

"The continual statement, 'He's only a casual,' makes me feel stupid and it makes me feel angry," he said.

McConnell, who lives in Rancho Palos Verdes, said he has logged nearly 3,700 hours, which he believes will qualify him for registered ILWU membership.

"There's more security," he said. "But more so, I want to be a member of the union family."