RECENT events in the Strait of Hormuz have once again reminded us of the risks faced by the men and women who go to sea.
Filipino seafarers have been among those caught in the continuing hostilities in the region. Some have been injured. Lives have been lost. Most recently, two Filipino seafarers serving aboard the tanker Sidr died following a security incident while the vessel was transiting the Strait of Hormuz.
We mourn their loss and remember the families they leave behind. But we should also remember what their fellow seafarers were doing when tragedy struck: their jobs — helping to keep a ship moving, cargo flowing and world trade functioning.
Around 80 percent of world merchandise trade by volume is carried by sea. The food on our tables, the fuel that powers our economies, the raw materials that feed industry and much of what we use every day have, at some point, travelled by ship.
Ships move trade. But people move ships.
This is why safety must always be at the heart of shipping. Safety, however, is much broader than avoiding a dangerous sea lane. It begins long before a vessel encounters a high-risk or warlike area.
It begins with proper education and training and is reinforced through competence, discipline, good seamanship, proper maintenance, emergency preparedness, and sound judgment. It also requires the confidence to speak up when something does not appear right.
Above all, safety must become a mindset — a way of thinking and behaving that accompanies a global maritime professional every time he or she steps aboard a vessel.
That responsibility does not belong to the seafarer alone. Shipowners must assess the risks confronting their vessels, people and cargo. Masters and officers need the information and support to make sound decisions. Companies need appropriate security measures and contingency plans. Governments must provide timely guidance, while manning agencies must ensure that seafarers understand the risks and protections available to them.
The Strait of Hormuz brings these responsibilities into sharp focus. The Philippine government continues to classify the area as high risk. Filipino seafarers also have a recognized right to refuse sailing through designated high-risk or warlike areas without prejudice to their employment rights. That protection is important and must be respected.
But the broader challenge is more complicated than whether a ship should simply sail or stop sailing. Nations need energy. People need food and medicine. Industries need raw materials. Cargoes have destinations, and international supply chains depend upon ships arriving at them. The Strait of Hormuz itself remains one of the world’s most important maritime chokepoints and is critical to global energy transportation.
The challenge is not to choose between commerce and people. It is to ensure, to the greatest extent reasonably possible, that commerce continues without losing sight of the people who make it possible.
We learned this lesson during the Covid-19 pandemic. As borders closed and aircraft were grounded, ships continued to sail. Seafarers remained at their posts, often times for months beyond their expected contracts because crew changes had become extraordinarily difficult. The world eventually recognized what the maritime community had always known: seafarers are key and essential workers. Shipping could not stop because the world could not afford for it to stop.
The pandemic taught us how indispensable seafarers are. The conflicts we see today remind us how vulnerable they can be.
For generations, Filipino seafarers have served aboard the world’s merchant and passenger fleets. They have earned a reputation for competence, resilience, adaptability, and professionalism, and remain an important part of the human infrastructure that keeps international shipping moving.
We should be proud of that contribution. We should also understand that courage at sea does not mean being careless about danger. Professionalism does not require a seafarer to accept every risk placed before him. It means understanding risk, preparing for it, managing it responsibly, and knowing when circumstances require a different course of action.
There will always be risks at sea. Today, geopolitical conflict adds missiles, drones, mines and the possibility that an ordinary commercial vessel may suddenly find itself caught in events far beyond its control. This makes our commitment to safety more important, not less.
Yet amid these dangers, we should not allow the Filipino seafarer to be portrayed simply as a victim of circumstances. Every day, thousands of our countrymen and women wake aboard ships far from home, stand their watches, maintain engines and equipment, navigate difficult waters, care for passengers, handle cargoes and respond when emergencies arise.
They do it quietly, professionally, and often without public recognition. They did it during a global pandemic. They do it in heavy weather. And they continue to do it today in a world that has unfortunately become more uncertain. There is quiet courage in that.
Safety must therefore remain paramount — not because ships can simply stop whenever danger appears — but because the people who keep them sailing are irreplaceable.
The world depends upon shipping in peace, in crisis and, regrettably, even in times of conflict. Shipping, in turn, depends upon the men and women who go to sea. Our responsibility as an industry, as a government and as a maritime nation is to give them the competence, information, protection and support they need to do their jobs safely.
And when their work is done, we must do everything reasonably possible to bring them safely home.
That is what we owe the Filipino seafarer. And that is what safety must ultimately mean.
