At anchor in the Persian Gulf, Abhijit Chopra found out about the US-Iran peace deal when his phone lit up with messages from family and friends. The captain of a crude oil tanker, he had to temper his excitement. There were no signs of celebration from nearby vessels, and no ships making haste towards the Strait of Hormuz.
Chopra and his 21-strong crew have been trapped since the war began in late February. At the beginning, they struggled with fear and uncertainty, which ebbed into boredom and a constant battle not to let negative thoughts set in. For more than 120 days they have waited, dining together and bonding by singing old Hindi songs at karaoke. In early March, Chopra and his crew — all of whom were Indian, aside from one Ukrainian — celebrated Holi, a major Hindu festival, onboard the tanker. They painted each other’s foreheads with turmeric powder taken from their kitchen.
Signs that the strait might reopen came and went. That’s why this time, Chopra didn’t overreact. “When they said the Strait of Hormuz was open, we were a bit optimistic that the vessel might transit,” he said. But when there was fresh news of attacks on tankers, they realized they were going to be stuck a bit longer. “There was a little bit of disappointment,” he said.
Around 8,000 seafarers who are not from the region remain stranded in the gulf, according to the International Maritime Organization, the United Nations agency that’s tasked with regulating and coordinating global shipping. Sailors have been left to the mercy of geopolitical forces and distant diplomatic negotiations, working to keep their ships in service as missiles and drones passed overhead. Their fate is a stark reminder that the global economy is heavily dependent on individuals, who at times have to go to extraordinary lengths and face incredible risks to keep trade flowing.
“Ultimately, we are just ordinary people. We are fathers, we are sons, we are husbands who are staying for months out at sea carrying out a duty,” Chopra said. “And we are doing this because somebody has to do this and the world’s goods, economies depend on all this seafaring job.”
Oceangoing ships are responsible for moving more than 80% of global goods, or about 70% in total value, a World Bank estimate shows. Today, nearly 2.6 million seafarers serve onboard the world’s fleet of more than 85,000 merchant vessels, according to a joint report issued by BIMCO, a trade association for the shipping industry, and the International Chamber of Shipping. The majority are recruited from lower-income countries, often in Asia, with the Philippines and India providing around 30% of the global workforce.
Working on ships can be difficult and dangerous, with crews often away from home for months at a time. Seafarers’ conditions at sea are largely governed by the Maritime Labour Convention, an International Labour Organization treaty that outlines work and welfare rights, and touches on protections for them in extraordinary scenarios.
But for a global industry as decentralized as shipping, enforcement and compliance is patchy. Large shipowners are often compliant, but seafarers on vessels owned by smaller companies may not be offered even those basic set of rights, top executives at support groups have told Bloomberg News.
“Global shipping is almost set up to provide multiple, different channels for ownership and operation, where I can be a shipowner sitting in London and flag it to Liberia and register it in Greece and I sit back and earn revenue from the ship,” said Ben Bailey, program director for the Mission to Seafarers, a welfare charity for maritime workers. “It is the seafarers that risk falling through the gaps and not have their rights met.”
