MANILA – The monsoon rains that lashed the Philippine capital last week shut schools and suspended government work, but they did nothing to thin the crowds outside shipping agencies. Young men and seasoned sailors alike stood in lines that curved around street corners, paperwork in hand, ready to head back to sea.
These applicants know the waters they are sailing into. The Strait of Hormuz has seen missiles fly overhead. The Black Sea has become a graveyard for merchant vessels. Yet the lines remain long.
“This is the only job I know,” said Gerald, a 15-year veteran seafarer who asked that his full name be withheld to protect his employment. He was at an apartment complex near Manila Bay, sorting out documents for his next deployment to a cargo vessel off Fujairah in the United Arab Emirates.
His last stint there was a nightmare. In late February, when the United States and Israel launched air attacks on Iran, Gerald and his crew were stuck on board for two months as the Strait of Hormuz effectively closed.
“There was one missile that flew over. The navy intercepted it right when it was above us, so we hid,” he recalled. “We knew fragments could land on our ship. But what can we do? There was nowhere safe.”
He and his colleagues watched projectiles from both sides blow up mid-air. Shrapnel splashed into the water, but the crossfire cut off their regular supply runs. To survive, they fished off the deck, risking their lives for a meal.
None of that has deterred him.
“I was able to save enough to buy a property after just two years of sailing,” Gerald said. “I was able to build a house for my parents.”
Growing up in a fishing village, the sea was always a source of livelihood. But sailing beyond his hometown changed his life. “This job has provided me with a decent income. And it’s the only job I’ve known for a long time. I can’t just go into business or farming. That’s easier said than done,” he said.
The Philippines supplies more than a quarter of the world’s seafarers. According to the International Maritime Organization, about 2,500 Filipinos were among the roughly 6,000 sailors stranded in the Strait of Hormuz in July. At the height of the conflict in March, nearly 20,000 sailors on 1,500 ships were trapped in the waterway. At least 17 have been killed in attacks since then.
Even after the US and Iran struck an interim deal in June to end the war, there was no mass repatriation. The Department of Migrant Workers said more than 60 Filipinos have returned home from the Gulf, but most remain on vessels that have managed to transit the strait.
Alberto Lobaton, another seafarer staying at the same apartment complex, knows the risks firsthand. Last year, he was on a ship in the Black Sea when a strike hit close.
“I felt the ship shake because the explosion was so close. It was just around 300 metres away; I was in our quarters, but those who were on duty that night stood up and ran,” Lobaton said.
The Black Sea has seen an uptick in attacks on merchant vessels as the Russia-Ukraine war intensifies. In July alone, 35 ships were struck and more than 20 sailors were killed, including at least three Filipinos.
The Philippine government has appealed to shipowners to avoid high-risk areas or disembark their Filipino crew. It has also reminded sailors they have the right to refuse to sail.
But for many, refusing is not an option. The apartment complex near Manila Bay, which has served as a halfway house for seafarers for years, is fully booked despite the escalating conflicts.
Lobaton admits he is concerned for his safety. But the financial rewards outweigh the fear.
“If I die, my family will be set for life because we are insured. So if something were to happen to me, I’d prefer it happened while I’m at work at sea,” he said.
For these sailors, the sea is not just a job. It is a lifeline that has lifted their families out of poverty. And no missile, no attack, no war zone seems able to break that bond.
