By Michael Grey*
Amid all the talk about autonomy and artificial intelligence offering a wonderful future for the marine industry, it is sometimes hard to remember that a crew of humans still operate just about every ship on the planet. They will do so well into the distant future, perhaps with rather different skills, because old-fashioned requirements like judgement, seamanship, experience, and common sense can never be replaced, despite the extravagant claims of the techies. If this is the case, and we will still need clever people capable of sea-sense to run the ships of today and tomorrow, we ought to start thinking about how we can make their working lives rather more pleasant.
We can think of a whole list of items for improvement, such as making their living conditions less “institutionalised,” less economising on the furniture and fittings, looking at the length of tours, the need for better connectivity and the like. But one important item, continually raised but then consigned to the “too-hard basket” is that of shore leave, and specifically, its lack. The latest edition of the Flying Angel News, published for the supporters of the Mission to Seafarers contains some frank words from the Mission’s Director of Programme Ben Bailey about this deterioration in what ought to be a right to get ashore occasionally, when a ship gets to port.
The chaplains of the Mission, confirmed by welfare workers and ship visitors all around the world are probably better placed than most to measure the contentment of the crews they meet in their centres, but more often aboard ship. Ben Bailey sums up their observations very well; “Shore leave is not a perk; it is a pressure valve. If the maritime workforce is expected to remain competent, alert and motivated, it must be given the basic conditions necessary for healthy living.”
There is absolutely no mystery about why this has become a point of serious concern in any measure of seafarers’ “happiness.”
Ben Bailey suggests: “Brutally short port stays, ramped up security protocols and expensive or non-existent transport options mean that disembarking has become an elusive privilege, rather than an expected part of the job.”
There can be no argument about this, and of course, it is the easiest thing in the world to summon up a whole raft of reasons why, in any particular port, the crew of a visiting ship cannot be given a few hours of liberty from their confinement.
The immigration authorities will not permit it. The visa necessary to land is too difficult to obtain and far too expensive for the average seafaring visitor. Umpteen safety considerations can be brought into play, citing the hazards of working terminals and the distance to the gate. Then, there is no getting away from the sheer intensity of activities in port that require the attention of those aboard. Every new development in cargo-handling, from ship-loaders that move mountains in minutes, to huge investments in container terminal equipment that will turn a big ship around in ever shorter times, militate against time off for the crew. There is the queue of well-rested, shore-side officials (enjoying their five-day working weeks), surveyors, inspectors, repairers, and others, who demand their instant access to the ship and its senior officers, interrupting their sleep, mealtimes and certainly any leisure, to address their important requirements.
There simply is not the space or time for shore leave, even if it was permitted. “Go-on, stop-on” is the modus operandi, with a ship in port. Ben Bailey says that “the maritime community must reclaim shore leave as a right grounded in safety, wellbeing and dignity.” He goes on to suggest that there should be means of “scheduling operational windows, that guarantee disembarkation time”, with ports ensuring that there are safe and affordable access routes for crew. And maybe this means confronting the ridiculous pace of maritime operations, which we know causes ships to be run by increasingly fatigued human beings, who would occasionally like a break. It may not be an entirely fair comparison, but if navies think it important to divert warships worth billions into port for a couple of days R&R, could not the commercial world ease up a little on their human component? It is not as it they are asking for the earth.
In Rose George’s insightful book Deep Sea and Foreign Going, she records an interview with the delightful priest running the Immingham Seafarers’ Centre. Father Colum Kelly recalled a Master who told him that rather than a visit to a shopping centre, he and his crew would like to walk on “green, green grass” for a while, rather than unforgiving steel. He took them to a churchyard near Hull airport – “And they all took off their shoes and walked barefoot on the grass for an hour, then they went back to the ship.”
(Dreamstime photo of a boatswain on tanker)
*Michael Grey is former editor of Lloyd’s List. This column is published with the kind permission of The Maritime Advocate.