Judgment creditors can celebrate in England — UK Supreme Court.

English courts are not very keen on judgment debtors who spirit assets away out of sight of our enforcement officers. The Supreme Court today showed they meant business when faced with this scenario. They confirmed in JSC BTA Bank v Khrapunov [2018] UKSC 19 that anyone who in England does anything to help a debtor do this can find himself at the receiving end of a civil claim from the judgment creditor.

Mukhtar Ablyazov, a colourful Kazakh politician, dissident and businessman who used to run the biggest bank in Kazakhstan, was successfully sued here by the bank for the moderate sum of US$4.6 billion. The court issued the usual congeries of worldwide freezing orders in aid of enforcement, which were disobeyed. In 2012 Mr Ablyazov, facing the prospect of time inside for contempt, fled England and continued with a large degree of success to move his assets around to make them inaccessible.

The Ablyazov cupboard being bare, the bank then turned to an associate, one Ilyas Khrapunov, who had allegedly agreed in England to help Mr Ablyazov to cause his assets to vanish and later done just that. It sued Mr Khrapunov in tort, alleging that the above acts amounted to an unlawful means conspiracy. Mr Khrapunov applied to strike, arguing that if (as is clear) contempt of court cannot give rise to damages, the bank shouldn’t be allowed to plead conspiracy to get a similar remedy by the back door. He also argued that in any case he was safely tucked up in Switzerland; that the assets were outside England; and that the mere fact that he had conspired in England to make those assets disappear did not take away his right under the Lugano Convention to be sued in his country of domicile.

Mr Khrapunov lost all the way in the Supreme Court. There was no reason why the fact that he had acted in contempt of court should not count as unlawful means for the purposes of conspiracy. Furthermore, the jurisprudence under the Brussels I / Lugano system made it clear that for the purpose of non-contractual liability, where jurisdiction laywas “either in the courts for the place where the damage occurred or in the courts for the place of the event which gives rise to and is at the origin of that damage”, an agreement amounted to an ” event which gives rise to and is at the origin of that damage.”

Good news, in other words, for judgment creditors: bad news for friends of fugitive tycoons.

Arbitration just got easier

The Court of Appeal today got rid of a decision that has bugged arbitration lawyers for some 18 years.

An XL insurance policy contained an arbitration clause as follows: “Unless the parties otherwise agree the arbitration tribunal shall consist of persons with not less than ten years’ experience of insurance or reinsurance.” Question: was a senior insurance silk with rather more than ten years’ experience in insurance (in this case the redoubtable Alastair Schaff QC) eligible?

The answer was No,  according to Morison J’s unreported 2000 decision in Company X v Company Y (17 July 2000): experience of insurance was (his Lordship had said) not the same thing as experience in insurance law. Nonsense, said the Court of Appeal in Allianz Insurance Plc & Anor v Tonicstar Ltd [2018] EWCA Civ 434. Experience in insurance was perfectly wide enough a phrase to encompass experience gained by prectising insurance law. True, in some cases there might be a clear divide between an area of life and the law relating to it (sport and sports law, for example): but not so with insurance. Nor was the Court worried that the earlier decision had stood for 18 years: error ought to be corrected, and little if any injustice would be caused if it was.

So there you have it. Arbitration books will be that bit shorter in future — and, in the view of us at Maricom, a good thing too.

LOI and delivery to agent of nominated receiver. The Songa Winds.


In The Songa Winds [2018] EWHC 397 (Comm) the court considered the enforceability of a letter of indemnity for delivery of cargo without production of a bill of lading. Songa had time chartered their vessel to Navig8 who had concluded a voyage charter with Glencore carrying crude sunflower oil from the Ukraine to New Mangalore and Kakinada. Delivery was made without production of bills of lading in return for indemnities on back to back terms from Glencore to Navig8 and from Navig8 to Songa. The indemnities were on the terms of the International Group’s Letter of Indemnity for delivery of cargo without production of a bill of lading which provides

“we, [insert name of party requesting delivery], hereby request you to deliver the said cargo to “X [name of the specific party] or to such party as you believe to be or to represent X or to be acting on behalf of X” at [insert place where delivery is to be made] without production of the original bill of lading.”

Both indemnities stipulated delivery to Aavanti, who had purchased the cargo from Glencore. Delivery, however, was made to Ruchi, who were Aavanti’s sub-purchaser. A claim was made against Songa by SocGen, who had financed Aavanti’s purchase and claimed to be the lawful holder of the bills of lading.

Andrew Baker J found that Ruchi had been acting as Aavanti’s agent and gave summary final judgment that the two LOIs had been triggered. Although Ruchi had not paid Aavanti, the evidence showed that it was acting as its agent at the two discharge ports. There was a standing practice, between Aavanti and Ruchi, for delivery to be made to Ruchi of cargo quantities sold to it by Aavanti without production of bills of lading. Aavanti had issued LOIs to Glencore requesting it to procure delivery to Ruchi although it had not been paid and without reference to whether it was going to be paid before delivery. Aavanti had no representative office or other presence in India and no right to import cargo into India and had not appointed anyone to receiver the cargo on its behalf at the two Indian ports. Ruchi had its own dedicated tanks at both ports and the overwhelming likelihood was that the cargo was discharged into those tanks.

Non-exclusive jurisdiction under Brussels I Recast: a logical but odd result.

Cockerill J’s decision last month in UCP Plc v Nectrus Ltd [2018] EWHC 380 (Comm) may well encourage some lawyers to groan further about the effects of EU law on questions of jurisdiction. The background was a corporate dispute of spectacular dreariness: suffice it to say Nectrus alleged UCP owed it several million, while UCP had a claim for damages against Nectrus arising out of the same events. The relevant contract contained a non-exclusive English jurisdiction clause. Nectrus sued in the Isle of Man: a month or so later UCP sued in England. Nectrus sought to argue forum non conveniens to remove the hearing to Douglas. UCP argued that the English court not only should not but could not decline jurisdiction. It observed that the court had jurisdiction under Art.25 of Brussels I Recast, and that the limited lis alibi pendens provisions in Arts.33 and 34 were not applicable (since they only affected jurisdiction under Arts.4, 7, 8 and 9 and not jurisdiction by virtue of agreement). Cockerill J agreed, following dicta from Popplewell J in IMS SA v Capital Oil & Gas Industries [2016] 4 WLR 163  and the IISTL’s own Peter Macdonald-Eggers QC in Citicorp Trustee Company Ltd v Al-Sanea [2017] EWHC 2845 (Comm). Logical, certainly, in the light of the acepted interpretation of Brussels I. But it does have the effect that a non-exclusive jurisdiction clause now means not so much “You can, but don’t have to, sue in England” as “You can sue me outside England, but if you do I can still insist on proceedings taking place here.” Not quite the same thing, most lawyers will (one suspects) conclude.

“Everywhere you go, you can be sure with Shell.” No arguable duty of care in respect of Nigerian oil pollution leaks.


The issue of a parent company’s potential direct liability in tort in respect of acts of one of its subsidiary companies has recently come before the Court of Appeal in Okpabi v Royal Dutch Shell and Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria Ltd , [2018] EWCA Civ 191. The Nigerian claimants suffered from harm from pollution arising from oil leaks from Nigerian land pipelines due to the illegal process of “bunkering” by which oil is stolen by tapping into the pipelines.

The claimants wanted to sue  Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary SPDC, who operated the pipelines, in the English courts rather than in Nigeria. To this end they sued the English holding company, Royal Dutch Shell (‘RDS’), in the English courts. RDS would now serve as an ‘anchor defendant’ and the claimants obtained leave to serve SPDC out of the jurisdiction under para 3.1 of Practice Direction 6B, on the ground that there was between the claimant and RDS a real issue which it was reasonable for the court to try and the claimant wished to serve SPDC as a necessary or proper party to that claim.

RDS applied under CPR Part 11(1) for orders declaring that the court had no jurisdiction to try the claims against it, or should not exercise such jurisdiction as it had. At first instance Fraser J found that there was no arguable duty of care owed by the parent company Royal Dutch Shell Plc to those affected by the operations of its subsidiary in Nigeria.( [2017] EWHC 89 (TCC), noted in this blog on 2 February 2017. The governing law would be that of Nigeria, but the issue was decided under English law, because the legal experts for the parties were agreed that the law of Nigeria would follow, or at least include as an essential component, the law of England in this respect.

The Court of Appeal has now upheld the decision by a 2-1 majority, Sales LJ dissenting. The Court of Appeal applied the three stage Caparo Industries v Dickman test for assessing novel duties of care[1990] 2 AC 605 (HL) which set out three requirements, all of which had to be satisfied. (1) Was it foreseeable that if the defendant failed to take reasonable care, the plaintiff would be injured by the acts or omissions of the defendant (the foreseeability factor)? (2) Was there a relationship between the plaintiff the defendant characterized by the law as one of “proximity” or of being “neighbours” one to another (the proximity factor)? (3) as a matter of legal policy it would be fair and just to impose a duty of care on the defendant (the policy factor)? The duty of care argued for by the claimants foundered on the proximity requirement.

The claimants’ based their case on the duty of care owed by RDS to them on the fact that

“… [RDS] exerts significant control and oversights over [SPDC’s] compliance with its environmental and regulatory obligations and has assumed responsibility for ensuring observance of proper environmental standards by [SPDC] in Nigeria. [RDS] carefully monitors and directs the activities of [SPDC] and has the power and authority to intervene if [SPDC] fails to comply with the Shell Group’s global standards and/or Nigerian law.”

The claimants relied on five main factors to demonstrate RDS’s arguable control of SPDC’s operations: (1) the issue of mandatory policies, standards and manuals which applied to SPDC, (2) the imposition of mandatory design and engineering practices, (3) the imposition of a system of supervision and oversight of the implementation of RDS’s standards which bore directly on the pleaded allegations of negligence, (4) the imposition of financial control over SPDC in respect of spending which, again, directly relevant to the allegations of negligence and (5) a high level in the direction and oversight of SPDC’s operations.

Having reviewed the evidence submitted by the claimants Simon LJ concluded that none of the claimants’ five factors, either individually or cumulatively demonstrated a sufficient degree of control of SPDC’s operations in Nigeria by RDS to establish the necessary degree of proximity. There was no arguable case that RDS controlled SPDC’s operations, or that it had direct responsibility for practices or failures which were the subject of the claim. Simon LJ noted an important distinction between a parent company which controls, or shares control of, the material operations on the one hand, and a parent company which issues mandatory policies and standards which are intended to apply throughout a group of companies in order to ensure conformity with particular standards. “The issuing of mandatory policies plainly cannot mean that a parent has taken control of the operations of a subsidiary (and, necessarily, every subsidiary) such as to give rise to a duty of care in favour of any person or class of persons affected by the policies. [88]”.

A similar point was made by Sir Geoffrey Vos. The issue of mandatory policies, standards and manuals were of a highlevel nature and did not indicate control; control rested with SPDC which was responsible for its own operations.

“The promulgation of group standards and practices is not, in my view, enough to prove the “imposition” of mandatory design and engineering practices. There was no real evidence to show that these practices were imposed even if they were described as mandatory. There would have needed to be evidence that RDS took upon itself the enforcement of the standards, which it plainly did not. It expected SPDC to apply the standards it set. The same point applies to the suggested “imposition” of a system of supervision and oversight of the implementation of RDS’s standards which were said to bear directly on the pleaded allegations of negligence. RDS said that there should be a system of supervision and oversight, but left it to SPDC to operate that system. It did not have the wherewithal to do anything else.[205]”


Opkabi is one of three transnational tort claims involving attempts to sue a foreign subsidiary company using the English parent company as an ‘anchor’ defendant. In Lungowe v Vedanta and AAA v Unilever the court accepted that there was an arguable case that the anchor defendant owed a duty of care, although in AAA the claim foundered on the lack of foreseeability of the harm suffered by the claimants at the hands of third parties in the post-election violence in Kenya after the 2007 elections. An appeal is due to be heard later this year.

As a sidenote, in similar proceedings brought against SPDC in the Netherlands, using RDS as an ‘anchor defendant’, the Dutch Court of Appeal in December 2015 concluded that the claims against RDS were not bound to fail. They reasoned.

“Considering the foreseeable serious consequences of oil spills to the local environment from a potential spill source, it cannot be ruled out from the outset that the parent company may be expected in such a case to take an interest in preventing spills (or in other words, that there is a duty of care in accordance with the criteria set out in Caparo v Dickman [1990] UKHL 2, [1990] 1 All ER 56), the more so if it has made the prevention of environmental damage by the activities of group companies a spearhead and is, to a certain degree, actively involved in and managing the business operations of such companies, which is not to say that without this attention and involvement a violation of the duty of care is unthinkable and that culpable negligence with regard to the said interests can never result in liability.”


The claimants’ solicitors in Opkabi, Leigh Day, have indicated their intention to apply for leave to appeal to the Supreme Court.



Hague rules. No limitation for bulk cargo.


On Wednesday in The Aqasia [2018] EWCA Civ 276 the Court of Appeal upheld the decision of Sir Jeremy Cooke [2016] EWHC 2514 (Comm) that “unit” in Article IV rule 5 of the Hague Rules means a physical item of cargo and not a unit of measurement. The case involved a cargo claim against owners under a voyage charter for the carriage of bulk fishoil, which provided that “The Owners in all matters arising under this Contract shall also be entitled to the like privileges and rights and immunities as are contained in Sections 2 and 5 of the Carriage of Goods by Sea Act 1924 and in Article IV of the Schedule thereto …”


Flaux LJ reasoned that the word “package” clearly referred to a physical item and the use of the words “package” and “unit” together and in the same context pointed strongly to both words being concerned with physical items rather than units of measurement. “Unit” refers to a physical item which is not a “package”, because, for example, it is incapable of being packaged or is not in fact packaged. This was the construction accepted by courts in other common law jurisdictions and favoured by the majority of academic commentators and textbooks.


It was also clearly confirmed by the travaux préparatoires for the Hague Rules. There was no suggestion in the travaux préparatoires that “unit” had been introduced to cater for bulk cargoes.  Any limitation by reference to weight or volume was abandoned by the end of the session on 31 August 1921, as was any limitation by reference to a multiplier of freight by the end of the session on 1 September 1921. The word “unit” had been introduced to cater for items of cargo which are carried without packaging, such as cars or boilers.


Accordingly, there is no limitation available under the Hague Rules in respect of loss or damage to bulk or liquid cargo. The Court of Appeal also rejected owners’ argument that the words of Article IV were written into the charterparty so that every provision in the Article must be given meaning and effect in the context of the carriage of the bulk cargo contemplated by the charterparty. On the correct construction of the charterparty, owners were entitled to rely upon no more than what Article IV provides.


Ultra vires or ineffective: a no-nonsense approach to contractual effectiveness

A short technical point of interest especially to those dealing with foreign state or semi-state entities arises out of a decision of Andrew Baker J a week ago in Exportadora De Sal SA De CV v Corretaje Maritimo Sud-Americano Inc [2018] EWHC 224 (Comm).

The power of a Ruritanian state corporate entity  to conclude a contract is governed by the law of the place of incorporation, i.e. Ruritania. The validity of the contract, and whether anything has happened which has the effect of preventing the parties being liable, or discharging an existing duty, is controlled by the governing law of the contract: if there’s an English law and jurisdiction clause, this means English law, to the exclusion of Ruritanian. But where is the boundary between the two?

A Mexican 51/49 state/private entity contracted for the building of a self-unloading salt barge (don’t say you don’t learn about interesting gadgets on Maricom) for about $27 million. The contract specified English law and London arbitration. The Mexican entity broke its contract, and following arbitration went down for about $7 million.  However the builders, when they tried to enforce the award, encountered a plea that the Mexican entity concerned had had no power under Mexican law to contract for the barge except through a specified tender process; that this hadn’t happened, that there had indeed been a Mexican administrative decision to cancel the contract on that basis, and that this nullified not only the contract but any submission to the arbitral process contained within it.

Andrew Baker J gave the buyers short shrift for a number of reasons we need not go into here. As regards the no-power argument, however, he made the important point that it was a non-starter. Although possibly dressed up as an ultra vires point, it was really nothing of the sort: viewed as a matter of substance it was a question of substantive validity. Substantive validity being governed by English law, the fact that under Mexican law the contract had been declared entirely ineffective was simply beside the point. As his Lordship observed, this decision was merely a mirror-image of the earlier Haugesund Kommune et al. v Depfa ACS Bank [2012] QB 549, where an ostensibly validity-orirnted rule had been held on a proper construction actually to go to the vires of a contracting party. But  the Exportadora de Sal case is none the less a useful weapon in the armoury of an English international commercial lawyer faced with an impressive-sounding plea that an apparently English contract was ultra vires under the laws of Backofbeyondia.



Is  a ‘Waiting for orders’ claim a demurrage claim?



The answer to this question matters because of the documents required under a time bar clause for “demurrage claims”.

In The Ocean Neptune [2018] EWHC 163 (Comm) the vessel was chartered for a voyage from Taiwan to three Australian discharge ports on ExxonMobil VOY2005 form, and the Lukoil International Trading and Supply Company Exxonvoy 2005 clauses dated 30.05.2006 (“the LITASCO Clauses”). Clause 2 of the Litasco clauses provided a requirement for demurrage claims to be provided with supporting documentation within 90 days of completion of final discharge, with a similar provision for other claims but with a time limit of 120 days. In addition cl. 2(b) specified the types of documentation that had to be required for a demurrage claim.  Clause 4 of the Litasco clauses was a ‘waiting for orders’ clause which provided “If charterers require vessel to interrupt her voyage awaiting at anchorage further orders, such delay to be for charterers’ account and shall count as laytime or demurrage, if vessel on demurrage. Drifting clause shall apply if the ship drifts.”

At Gladstone, the first discharge port, the vessel berthed but then shifted back to the anchorage, remaining there for more than a month until charterers ordered the vessel to sail to Botany Bay.  The reason for the delay at Gladstone was that the receivers, Caltex, refused to take delivery of the cargo on the grounds that it was alleged to be contaminated/off specification. Owners initially presented this delay claim as a demurrage claim, but then reformulated it as a claim under cl. 4. The Tribunal held the Owners’ demurrage claims were barred because they failed to include a statement of facts for the loading port and the discharging ports, countersigned by the terminal, or if it was impossible to obtain such a countersignature, a letter of protest from the Master, as required by cl. 2(b). However, the Tribunal found that cl.2(b) did not apply to the claim for delay under cl.4. Charterers appealed against the finding.

Popplewell J allowed the appeal. The claim under clause 4 was a demurrage claim. Demurrage was defined by clause 13(d) of the ExxonMobil VOY2005 form which provided that demurrage was to be paid for all time by which the allowed laytime “is exceeded by time taken for loading and discharging and for all other Charterer’s purposes and which, under this Charter, counts as laytime or as time on demurrage.”  Clause 4 provided that the delay caused by waiting at anchorage shall “count as” used laytime or demurrage. Demurrage was not limited to a claim where charterers had exceeded the allowed laytime by the time taken for loading and discharging. The waiting time was, therefore, time taken for Charterers’ purposes which under the charter counted as laytime or demurrage.  This was to be contrasted with other clauses in the charter which provided merely that compensation for delay caused by breach would be at the demurrage rate.


And the levy was dry. OPA Trust Fund levy expires.



The US Oil Pollution Act of 1990 set up a trust fund to take care of expenses beyond the costs that might be covered by the responsible party spilling any oil. This was funded by the federal Oil Spill Liability Trust Fund levy of 9cts per barrel. The levy expired on 31 December 2017 and has not been renewed. There is currently about $5.7 billion in the fund.

Scope of OPA expanded. The US Foreign Spill Protection Act 2017.


On 12 December 2017 President Donald Trump signed into law the Foreign Spill Protection Act of 2017. This  amends the Oil Pollution Act of 1990 to make foreign facilities that are located offshore and outside the exclusive economic zone (EEZ) liable for removal costs and damages that result from oil spills that reach (or threaten to reach) U.S. navigable waters, adjoining shorelines, or the EEZ. Specifically, the following parties may be held liable: (1) the owners or operators of the foreign facilities, including facilities located in, on, or under any land within foreign countries; and (2) the holders of a right of use and easement granted under applicable foreign law for the area in which the facility is located. The Act extends to abandoned foreign facilities. The Act also expands the definition of  an “offshore facility” under the Clean Water Act so as to cover facilities seaward of the US EEZ. The expansion applies to the  subsections of s.311 of the Clean Water Act relating: to administrative and civil penalties for spills of oil and/or other hazardous substances; federal removal authority; civil enforcement ; the savings clause for existing state, local and federal law.