BROPHY BROS. VENTURA
Anthony Medina’s daughter was 5 months old when he left the Philippines and set sail
for the Indian Ocean in December 2018. For more than a year, his days have been a
monotonous blur of endless fishing on the Oceanstar 86, a 465-foot-long vessel with a
crew of about three dozen. As long as there was seafood for their nets, including tuna,
crab and squid, the crew members had to haul them in, clean and freeze them.
When their boat finally arrived in Singapore in March, 2020, Medina planned on
catching a flight home. But, because the boat has been isolated on the high seas and cut
off from the rest of the world, the crew had received only limited information from
senior crew members due to the language barrier between the Chinese management on
board and the Philippine, Indonesian and Burmese crew. “We didn’t have a signal out in
the middle of the ocean. We heard the captain saying something about a pandemic, but
we thought it was just a joke...” said Medina.
He was shocked to learn that a virus outbreak had closed borders and shuttered ports,
keeping him out of the Philippines and trapped on the fishing boat. “We were prohibited
from disembarking. Our airline ticket was canceled,” he said.
As of September, 2020, Medina and 37 other sailors were still in limbo, having been
anchored off Fuzhou, China for more than six months. Days seep into night and
boredom mixes with restlessness and despair. They have become men without
countries, castaways and captives in the narrative of an unrelenting pandemic.
“The shore is so near that we can see it from here. On the really bad days, we think about
jumping overboard and swimming to shore. Maybe we can be rescued,” Medina says. He
worries about the fate of the crew members and their families back home who depend
on their salaries. The crew’s contracts have ended, and they are uncertain if they will get
paid for working while quarantined at sea.
Through all of this, Medina and the other crew members endure sleepless nights;
waking up each day to the reality that they don’t have any more filtered water. “We boil
the water that comes out of the sink, but it’s brown and rusty and tastes bad.” With not
enough water to drink, they can’t even bathe to wash off the stench and slime of fish.
“Most urgent now,” says Rossen Karavatchev, fisheries section coordinator for the
International Transport Workers’ Federation, “is their survival. Being anchored in the
middle of the ocean for a long period of time is not tenable.... If you get sick on board,
sorry, you can’t get medical assistance and you can’t get out. If you die, you may be
thrown into the sea for a sea burial.”
An estimated 300,000 migrant seafarers like Medina are languishing, mostly forgotten,
on stranded vessels scattered across seas or in ports because of the pandemic, according
to the International Transport Workers’ Federation, a London-based trade union.
Meanwhile, Medina sits off the coast of China, with no way to get home to his daughter,
who is no longer an infant.
BROPHY BROS. VENTURA
Photo Credit Kcruts Photography
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BROPHY BROS. VENTURA