The Seafarers the World Forgot: Meet the Crews Risking Their Lives in the Red Sea

 

The Invisible Workforce Keeping Global Trade Moving
In November 2023, the Galaxy Leader, a vehicle carrier, was transiting the Red Sea when Houthi forces descended. Armed militants rappelled onto the deck from helicopters. Within hours, the ship was seized, and its multinational crew—nationals from the Philippines, Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, and Mexico—was taken hostage .
For months, the world largely forgot about them. The ship remained anchored off Yemen's coast, its crew held in unknown conditions. Their families waited. Their employers negotiated. And the seafarers, who had signed contracts to move vehicles across oceans, found themselves prisoners in a conflict not of their making.
They are not alone. Between November 2023 and January 2025, the Houthis carried out over 100 attacks targeting commercial vessels. They sank two ships. They killed at least four sailors .
This article is about those sailors—the men and women who keep global trade moving, whose labor is essential but whose lives are treated as expendable, and who have paid the highest price for a crisis that rarely mentions their names.



Four Deaths, Two Sunken Ships, One Forgotten Crew
In March 2024, the Rubymar, a Belize-flagged bulk carrier loaded with fertilizer, sank in the Red Sea days after a Houthi attack. The vessel had been taking on water since the strike, and its cargo posed environmental risks to the marine ecosystem. The crew survived, but the ship—and their livelihoods—were lost .
June 2024 brought the first confirmed fatalities. The Tutor, a Liberian-flagged, Greek-owned bulk carrier, was attacked by a bomb-carrying Houthi drone boat in the Red Sea. The attack killed a Filipino crew member, whose body was never recovered. The ship sank days later .
Days after the Tutor went down, the Houthis attacked a second commercial vessel, the Eternity C, using maritime drones. Four crew members were killed. Two were injured. The ship sank .
The Galaxy Leader's crew remained in captivity for months. Their release, when it finally came, received minimal attention. They were not celebrities. They were not diplomats. They were seafarers—working-class men from developing countries, doing a job that most people never think about, until something goes wrong.



Who Are the People on These Ships?
The global shipping industry relies on a workforce that is almost entirely invisible to the public. Approximately 1.9 million seafarers operate the world's merchant fleet, according to the International Chamber of Shipping. They come disproportionately from developing countries: the Philippines supplies about a quarter of the world's maritime labor, followed by India, China, and Eastern European nations like Ukraine and Romania.
These are not wealthy individuals. They are working-class men and women who chose a difficult, dangerous profession because it pays better than alternatives at home. They spend months at sea, away from families, in conditions that are often cramped and uncomfortable. They keep global trade moving, but they are rarely seen and rarely thanked.
When the Tutor was attacked, the sailor killed was Filipino. His name was not widely reported. His family likely learned of his death through official channels, perhaps days after the event. He was one of four confirmed fatalities in the Houthi campaign, but his death represents an immeasurable loss to those who knew him .
The crew of the Galaxy Leader, held hostage for months, endured captivity far from home, uncertain whether they would be released, while their employers and governments negotiated for their freedom .



The Psychological Toll of Sailing Through a War Zone
For seafarers who survived attacks, the trauma does not end when the ship reaches port. Many have described the terror of watching missiles approach, of hearing explosions, of not knowing whether the next strike would hit.
In January 2024, the Marlin Luanda was struck by a Houthi missile in the Gulf of Aden. The missile ignited a fire in a cargo tank carrying naphtha. For hours, the crew battled flames while US, French, and Indian naval vessels rushed to assist. No one died that day. But the crew lived through something no one should have to experience: a fire on a ship loaded with flammable chemicals, miles from shore, with no certainty of rescue .
The psychological impact of such events is profound. Seafarers report anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress. Some refuse to return to sea. Others have no choice—they need the income, and there are few alternative jobs available in their home countries.



The Legal Gap: Who Protects Seafarers in Conflict Zones?
International maritime law provides some protections for seafarers, but enforcement is weak. The Maritime Labour Convention sets minimum standards for working conditions, but it does not address the specific risks of sailing through active conflict zones.
When a ship is attacked, responsibility falls to flag states (the countries where ships are registered), port states, and the seafarers' home countries. But these jurisdictions often overlap in confusing ways. The Rubymar was Belize-flagged, Greek-managed, and crewed by multiple nationalities. When it sank, which country was responsible for investigating? Which country would compensate the crew if they had died?
The International Transport Workers' Federation has long called for stronger protections for seafarers in conflict zones, including clear protocols for evacuation, compensation for psychological harm, and recognition of the extraordinary risks these workers face. But progress has been slow.



The Ceasefire Pause: A Brief Respite
The Houthis suspended attacks in January 2025 following a brief ceasefire between Israel and Hamas in Gaza. In May, both sides agreed to a ceasefire, and since then, no ships have been attacked .
For seafarers, this pause has been a relief. But it is not a solution. The underlying risks remain. The Houthis retain their military capabilities. The political drivers of the conflict have not been resolved. And as of early 2026, with US military assets flooding into the region and Houthi propaganda machines restarting, the threat of renewed attacks looms .
In January 2026, the Houthis released a video featuring footage of a previous attack on the Marlin Luanda, captioned with the word "Soon." Pro-Houthi figures shared the video, claiming they would stand alongside Iran in the face of a US or Israeli attack .
For seafarers, this is not abstract geopolitics. It is a direct threat to their lives.



What Seafarers Deserve
The UN Security Council, in its various resolutions on Red Sea security, has consistently expressed concern for the safety of seafarers. Resolution 2722, adopted in January 2024, demanded the immediate release of the Galaxy Leader and its crew. Resolution 2812, adopted in January 2026, reiterated these concerns .
But resolutions do not capture the experience of being on a ship when a missile strikes or a drone boat approaches. They do not compensate families for lost loved ones. They do not heal psychological wounds.
Seafarers deserve more than resolutions. They deserve recognition that their work is essential to global prosperity. They deserve protection when they transit dangerous waters. They deserve compensation when they are harmed. And they deserve to be remembered when they die.
Four sailors have been confirmed killed in the Red Sea campaign. Two ships have been sunk. One vessel and its crew were held hostage for months .
These are the measurable costs. The immeasurable ones—the trauma, the grief, the anxiety—belong to the seafarers and their families. They are the ones who paid the highest price for a crisis that rarely mentioned their names.