The Washington Post
Essential, invisible: Covid has 200,000 merchant sailors stuck at sea
The Washington Post's article addresses the pandemic's disruption of the global shipping industry, and the subsequent mental and physical toll on seafarers. For the second time in as many months, the work of SCI chaplains has been presented in a major print publication.
The following is an excerpt of the section entitled, A mental health crisis:
“Most of us like to have some semblance or illusion of control for our lives and livelihood,” said the Rev. Mark Nestlehutt, the president and executive director of the Seamen’s Church Institute, the largest welfare organization serving mariners and seafarers in North America. “One of the things that weighs on seafarers stuck at sea is the lack of control. It can be hard to cope when you have no sense of when things are going to be normal.”
. . . Cora DiDomenico, a chaplain with the Seamen’s Church Institute, is tasked with caring for workers’ mental, emotional and spiritual well-being. The 27-year-old hangs out in the ports of New York and New Jersey, boarding anywhere from three to six vessels a day, trying to cram as much care and practical assistance as she can into each visit . . .
“Every time I’m on a vessel, I always say, ‘Thank you so much for your service, thank you for your sacrifice, thank you for being here. Without you I have nothing, literally,’” DiDomenico said. “But a lot of times when I say that to a seafarer, they kind of dismiss it.”
Before the pandemic, DiDomenico would visit during coffee breaks or lunchtime, when all the crew would have an opportunity to rest and speak with her. Now, she usually can go only as far as the gangway. She’s learned to communicate with just her eyes. But the crew still see her white helmet with the words “SCI Chaplain” and come, with heartbreaking frankness, and share their troubles.
“I just need to let you know that my father died,” a mariner might say.
Or else it’s, “I just had to tell you: I just had a baby girl.”
When she asks “Have you shared this with anyone?” the answer is generally no. But they light up without fail when she asks to see pictures.
In the past year, DiDomenico has seen more “depression, anxiety and isolation” than ever before. People talk more about their families, and about their sacrifices. The uncertainty — about when they’ll go home or even set foot off their vessels — is hard for all to bear.
Sometimes, after visits, DiDomenico returns to her car and cries.
“Nobody signed up for this,” she said.
