Temporary Relief

Homecoming transatlantic travelers heaved a hopeful sigh when the U.S. Customs Service announced last week that there may be a cure for that special form of nervous upset known as baggage inspection. Pre-clearance is the magic word. As a first test, customs officials plan to station three inspectors in Naples to examine and seal all except the baggage needed en route by New York-bound passengers. The cleared trunks, parcels and crates then go into the ship's hold until debarkation.

The idea is to minimize those hours-long mob scenes in Manhattan's sweltering customs sheds, and if it is successful, inspectors will be stationed in other major European ports of embarkation. The whole project marks but an inch or two of progress, according to Customs Commissioner Philip Nichols Jr. In 1962 the bureau had only 2,298 inspectors to handle 158 million people at U.S. ports of entry. Congress refused to authorize any more, has also nixed proposals for 1) a corps of pretty hostesses to aid incoming passengers, 2) a Customs Academy, which would eventually turn out inspectors so expert in snap judgment that they could simply glance at a woman's face and know whether her spiked heels were full of contraband. As it is, the simplified "oral declarations" remain a pie-in-the-sky practice except for air arrivals at Miami and Idlewild. As for New York's outmoded docks, Nichols concludes, "I can't see anything happening in the next five years that will be better than an aspirin for a man with cancer."

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