I’m trapped on an oil tanker in Hormuz – Trump is putting us in danger

 After a series of announcements and counter-announcements from Iran and US President Donald Trump over the status of the Strait of Hormuz, chief officer James Perez* still has no idea when he will be able to go home after almost two months in the Persian Gulf.

“The strait is open. The strait is open with caveats. The strait is kind of open. The strait is closed,” he said. “It’s insane.”

The guidance is not just confusing, but dangerous. Several ships made a run through the strait after Trump declared it open on Friday, despite the threat of mines and Iranian attacks. Some were fired upon.

Shipping companies are pressuring crews to run the gauntlet based on the President’s announcements, says Perez, the second-most senior officer on an oil tanker that has been trapped since the Iran war broke out on 28 February.

He fears that his employer, a major shipping firm, is preparing to give the order to go. “If I refuse, I don’t believe I will have a job at the end of this.”

Perez, who has worked Gulf routes for two decades, is an EU resident who speaks under a pseudonym to avoid professional repercussions. The i Paper has verified his identity and the location of the tanker.

When the Iran war began, the ship was caught in the crossfire. Perez’ crew were loading barrels when they heard the first explosions overhead, and then came word that ships were being turned back from the Strait of Hormuz.

“We found a place to drop anchor,” he recalled “Far enough from shore, safe from navigation routes, and – in the beginning – with not so many vessels. Now, we have a lot of neighbours.”

Almost two months later, the crew are still there, among an estimated 20,000 seafarers on 1,600 ships left in limbo by the war and then a chaotic ceasefire that has seen Trump respond to Iran’s blockade with a counter-blockade. But for now at least, the explosions have stopped.

“In the first days, the drones and missiles were non-stop,” said Perez. “Day and night, we would see things we never saw before.”

The officer describes warplanes shooting down drones “just miles from us, and the drones exploding mid-air”, the “hissing” sound of missiles streaking through the sky and surveillance drones buzzing around the ship.

As Donald Trump urged seafarers to “show some guts” and cross the strait, Perez heard warnings over the radio from Iranian soldiers telling ships to turn back. At the time it was unclear what ships were targets, he said.

He recalls seeing a Kuwaiti tanker, the Al-Salmi, after a direct hit. “You really cannot unsee that. A vessel on fire,” said Perez. The crew were rescued.

Dozens of ships have been attacked during the war and at least 10 seafarers have been killed, according to the UN.

Life under fire “started with panic, but quickly became such a normal occurrence that we kind of got used to it,” Perez said. “But it never stopped being scary.”

As a senior officer, he was responsible for trying to keep the crew, as well as the boat, afloat. There have been tears, clashes and meltdowns under the stress, with no end in sight.

“People need to vent their fears and frustrations,” he said. “Work was reduced, but not stopped, because you still have to have some routine.”

Much of this is routine maintenance work, but closer to the accommodation quarters in case there is a need to swiftly take shelter. Perez says he still works 12 hours a day. He hasn’t slept through a night since the ship anchored.

But his crew are among the luckier Gulf captives. Perez’s colleagues watch films, play video games and fish in leisure time, and the ship is equipped with a gym. “We are all trying to stay longer together, no one spends so much time alone as in normal times,” he said.

Desalination facilities keep them supplied with fresh water, and a new three-month supply of food arrived from the shore at the start of April. Salaries are still being paid.

When satellite connections allow, the crew speak to friends and families. They also compulsively follow the news in the hope of an end to the crisis, although Perez says the stream of contradictory claims from Iran and the White House add to the confusion and anxiety.

There is also camaraderie between the trapped ships, with messages exchanged over radio. That has revealed some of the bleaker circumstances, with crews approaching others for water as their supplies ran out.

Some crew members report that they are not being paid. Many of the trapped ships are under flags of convenience, exempt from regulations on safety and labour standards, according to the International Transport Workers’ Federation (ITF).

Medical emergencies became fraught while it was too dangerous for helicopters to airlift patients ashore, leaving them to rely on slow boats. Tanker Captain Rakesh Ranjan Singh, 47, died of a reported cardiac arrest in mid-March as his crew struggled to get him off the ship.

Perez says anxiety comes from not knowing if and when the ordeal will end, or if there could yet be a new nightmare ahead. He fears the company could order the crew to cross the strait, or the ceasefire could collapse. “Will the attacks resume, and will they be worse,” he wonders.

Everyone on the ship has gone beyond their contracted spell, with some approaching a year at sea. But – like most crews trapped in the Gulf – they are forbidden from abandoning ship, and must wait for the company to find replacements. For obvious reasons, other sailors are reluctant to take the job.

The ITF says it has received 1,800 requests from seafarers for support during the war, with around half related to their rights, a further 20 per cent requesting repatriation and one in 10 expressing concerns over low provisions or fuel.

The Persian Gulf was declared a “warlike operations area” during the war, which entitles sailors to additional pay, to request repatriation and to refuse a dangerous journey.

But in practice, the difficulties of sourcing new crew members and safe transit out of the area are preventing them from leaving.

ITF general secretary Stephen Cotton said the body has “been working with industry, the International Maritime Organisation and Gulf states to do all we can to ensure that the 20,000 seafarers stuck near the Strait of Hormuz have as much support and protection as possible”.

“These are civilian workers, caught up in a conflict not of their own making. Every day they are reaching out to us for support, and every day many of them are forced to endure the psychological toll of being trapped in a war zone, simply for doing their jobs.”

Perez says the crisis is unlike anything he has experienced before, with the closest comparison being the pandemic that left him stranded at sea for seven months. “This is Covid 2.0 with missiles and drones,” he said.

Asked if he would consider a career change when the ordeal is finally over, he says it is difficult to say.

“This situation has given me a lot to think about,” he said. “Do I want to feel this unsafe again? Do I want to feel like the vessel is a prison because I’m not allowed to leave? Do I want to trust this or another management with my basic human rights? I don’t have the answer yet.”