Every month, on a Wednesday, the Seaboard Pioneer arrives. After navigating the traffic out of Port Newark, crossing through Manhattan into Brooklyn, I finally reached the crew of the vessel at the Red Hook Marine Terminal. These farther-away terminals aren’t easy places to reach, but they are always worth the trip. As I waited in the ship’s office, various crew members came by to purchase SIM cards—a simple item, but one that often opens the door to conversation between chaplains and seafarers. “Who are you hoping to connect with?” “What do you want to catch up on?” “What will you do now that you’re free from the limitations of ship WiFi?”

Among the familiar faces was Lester, the messman. During our regular visits on the ship, I’d gotten to know him. Lester often sought prayer or would ask for recommendations on exploring Brooklyn or Manhattan during shore leave. As he stood up to leave with his SIM card, I asked, “No shore leave adventures this time?”

He paused, then sat back down, head lowered. “No, Father Bill. My wife says I shouldn’t go ashore anymore. She’s pregnant and thinks it’s too risky for me to leave the ship.” Surprised, I asked more about the pregnancy, curious if there were any medical complications driving her concern.

Lester shared their anxieties about this first pregnancy, as well as the challenges they’ve faced in their first year of marriage, living with the burdens and opportunities of his work as a seafarer. He was torn—he wanted to support his wife and their future child, but also knew he needed the chance to go ashore when he could. Then, he asked, “Father Bill, can we talk together?”

Our conversation expanded as we connected with his wife over WhatsApp. Despite the late hour, she shared her worries and hopes for the pregnancy and the future. For the next few minutes, I encouraged the young couple to talk openly with each other. We shared prayers for their growing family and their child, due in five months. By the end of our call, Lester’s wife felt more at peace with him working so far from home, and Lester gained a deeper understanding of how he could support her from a distance. She even agreed that Lester could take shore leave for a much-needed break.

Though our chaplaincy work often begins with individual seafarers, it sometimes reaches much further—into the hearts of families, across oceans, and into communities. Through our care, compassion, and presence, we support more than just the mariners; we support their loved ones, too.

> Chaplain Bill Allport, D.Min — International Seafarers’ Center, Port of New York & New Jersey