Maritime Labour and Trade Union
OPINION: When Seafarers Die, Condolences Are Not Enough — The World Must Do Better
OPINION: When Seafarers Die, Condolences Are Not Enough — The World Must Do Better
By Sunil Kapoor | Adapted for Waterways News
Merchant ships are burning at sea. Not warships. Not naval vessels. Ordinary commercial ships — carrying cargo that keeps the global economy turning — crewed by civilian seafarers simply doing their jobs.
Following the latest wave of attacks on merchant vessels in the Strait of Hormuz, IMO Secretary-General Arsenio Dominguez issued a statement expressing deep concern over seafarer casualties, reaffirming that attacks on innocent civilian shipping are unjustifiable under international maritime law. The words were appropriate. But they were also familiar.
Every time a merchant ship is attacked — every time a seafarer loses his life in someone else’s geopolitical conflict — the same kind of statements appear. What is never quite clear is what those statements mean for the man standing watch tonight on the bridge.
When the System Failed: Lessons from Covid
The pandemic offered a sobering preview of how badly the protective system around seafarers can break down under pressure.
Governments insisted that no seafarer could remain aboard beyond twelve months. Port state authorities enforced this strictly. Yet those same governments often refused to issue visas for incoming crew, or declined to allow serving crew to disembark. The result was an impossible catch-22: the rules demanded crew changes that the system made impossible to execute.
Ships began carrying relief crew who had joined but could not replace their predecessors — seafarers already beyond their contract limits continued sailing as unofficial “passengers.” On paper, compliance. In reality, a fiction everyone accepted.
One incident from that period stands as a symbol of the system’s failure. A vessel arrived in port carrying the body of a seafarer who had died onboard. His remains, kept in the ship’s freezer, were refused permission to be landed at port after port. The crew sailed on — carrying their dead colleague — while his family thousands of miles away waited for a funeral that could not happen.
War, Missiles, and the Weight on Nigerian Seafarers
When Russia invaded Ukraine, merchant vessels were suddenly trapped in Ukrainian ports as missiles fell around them. The crew aboard those ships were commercial seafarers — not soldiers. Yet the burden of getting them home fell almost entirely on ship managers and the seafarers themselves.
Today, the Strait of Hormuz has become a new crisis point. In March 2024, the bulk carrier True Confidence was struck by a missile off Yemen. Three seafarers were killed. They were not combatants. They were doing their jobs. The damaged vessel drifted for months before any port agreed to receive it.
Now more than 1,000 ships are reported stuck or transiting the strait under threat. Some political voices have publicly urged shipowners to show courage and sail through. But bravado spoken in political offices lands on the shoulders of masters and crew — people for whom the danger is not rhetorical.
When an incident happens and a seafarer dies, a basic question deserves an answer: who gave the order to sail? On what assessment was that instruction based? A vessel may be insured. Cargo may be insured. A human life cannot be replaced.
Nigeria Watch: What This Means for Our Maritime Sector
Nigeria has significant stakes in this conversation. A substantial number of Nigerian seafarers serve aboard international merchant vessels, including those transiting high-risk corridors like the Red Sea, the Gulf of Aden, and now the Strait of Hormuz. When geopolitical conflict puts commercial shipping in the crosshairs, Nigerian families are among those waiting at home.
Closer to our shores, the Gulf of Guinea has its own long record of attacks on merchant vessels — piracy, kidnapping for ransom, armed robbery at sea — where seafarers have repeatedly borne the human cost of systemic failures. NIMASA, the Nigerian Navy, and the Federal Ministry of Marine and Blue Economy have invested in frameworks like the Deep Blue Project to address maritime insecurity in our region. But the broader question raised by Kapoor applies here too: when seafarers are endangered, does the response match the rhetoric?
The industry has repeatedly demonstrated that it can organise practical solutions in emergencies — repatriating crew, rerouting vessels, supporting families — when official structures move too slowly. That should not be the norm.
Ninety percent of world trade moves by sea. Nigeria’s import-dependent economy, its crude oil exports, and its ambitions as a blue economy hub all rest on the safety and welfare of seafarers. Behind every crew list is a family waiting for a safe return.
Statements of concern will keep being issued after every tragedy. But for the families of seafarers who do not come home, the message from this industry must be unambiguous: statements are not enough.
Sunil Kapoor is a shipowner and maritime commentator. Thioriginal piece has been adapted for Waterways News readers by Raymond Gold, Co-publisher and Research Reporter for Waterways News