In case you missed it: finding your land legs again

By Andrew McKenna

Early last century the ‘mystery man of literature’, B Traven, wrote electrifying prose about the horrors mariners were subject to in his novel The Death Ship. It remains the most famous of all Traven’s books. When it was published first in Germany in 1935, it sold over 200,000 copies before being banned. It is subtitled ‘The Story of an American Sailor’.

It’s 2010, the UN-declared International Year of the Seafarer, and things have changed. Or have they?

Tucked away down the bottom of Collins Street in Melbourne is the Stella Maris Seafarers’ Centre.

It’s an intriguing place, painted aquamarine, and on the Tuesday I visit the building reverberates with song. A choir from the Port of Melbourne Corporation is rehearsing, singing Alakazam Goodbye over and over in another room.

The stairwell is draped in national banners and the building is gracefully dilapidated, like something out of a 1930s movie. Almost like the ballroom on a ship. You could expect Lauren Bacall to step out at any moment. ‘Play it, Sam.’

There’s a photograph of 19th century Melbourne behind the bar, which closes at 2245 hours. A Gaelic sign welcomes seafarers with Cead Mile Failte.

Manager of the Stella Maris centre, Rom Kucera shows me to comfortable pink lounge chairs in front of the bar, and he says they are off a P&O ship. There’s a library and pool tables, and table tennis tables. They have a library for mariners to swap books and they offer DVDs with updated news from abroad. There’s a free Internet connection and a free phone.

‘If we need to get a counsellor we can cover those costs as well,’ Rom tells me.

Stella Maris celebrates its 90^th birthday this year world-wide, but what is it, exactly?

‘Not all ports have Stella Maris centres but they will likely have a representative,’ Rom said.

‘The full name is Apostle Ship of the Sea Stella Maris. It’s a ministry under the Vatican for migrant and itinerant people.’

Rom Kucera, manager of the Stella Maris Centre

Rom has been manager for about ten years, and he had been volunteering for around twenty before that. Stella Maris is there to help seafarers, and around fifteen thousand pass through the doors in Melbourne every year.

‘A lot of mariners are aware of our ministry because of its history, and the provision of support to seafarers around the world We have a dedicated ship visitor to visit them and let them know the services and support we offer.

‘There’s a free bus service that covers the Port of Melbourne, running 11am to 11pm.’

This can seem like a breath of fresh air to sailors in a foreign port. I mentioned The Death Ship and B Traven, but Rom hasn’t heard of it. That’s not surprising as Traven is obscure. But the practices Traven wrote about in the 1930s are not unknown eighty years later.

FLAGS OF CONVENIENCE

‘Depending on where the ship is registered,’ Rom said.

‘There are still ships that register under flags of convenience to avoid taxes and the standard of seaworthiness. People sign onto those ships and have very few rights. Unions and governments have no control over ships under flags of convenience. Those ships can flaunt the law.’

Any ship owner can register their ship under a flag such as Malta to avoid costs, which can be considerable. But under a flag of convenience you hire a crew and then pay them any wage you like.

‘There’s no union representation and the workers are virtually working for the ship owner under his conditions,’ Rom said.

‘I don’t know whether it’s as significant today as thirty years ago. There were a lot then, but there are still ships doing it today.’

At Stella Maris they see sailors from all over the world, predominantly Philippinos, but you name a country with a port and there are likely to be sailors who have visited the tail end of Little Collins. While we’re talking two Ukrainians from a bulk cement carrier come in for a drink, and Rom has to excuse himself to serve them.

‘Many sailors experience hardship and Stella Maris helps them through,’ he says when he returns.

‘We help them in their hour of need as they’re so isolated for so long. We pretty much consider ourselves as ambassadors. Whenever something happens to a ship, there’s always news abounding about an oil slick, but we want to know about the crew. They’ll probably be undergoing hardship.’

Crews normally sign on for a minimum of nine months, and the income they earn often provides great support to their immediate and extended families, so their family can live comfortably. If you’re from a poor country you are likely to be mindful of your position and protective of your job. Take it or leave it and don’t do anything to jeopardise your position, even if your conditions are appalling.

Stella Maris has accommodation in case a sailor is injured, so they can convalesce in a familiar place after a hospital stay.

‘Basically it’s a centre open daily to use as a base,’ Rom said.

‘The sailors can communicate with their families and loved ones by computer and phone.

VESSEL AS PRISON

‘They come here and relax, to get away from the ship. They’re confined to the ship when they’re at work and at rest. Ships can be at anchorage for forty days, waiting to load cargo.

‘A lot of them consider the vessel as their prison.

‘What we do is if there’s a seafarer with issues we have a number of people they can contact for help. Our networking gives us a number of avenues.’

In port sailors still have to cook and go on watch, and there’s an officer on duty at all times to supervise the cargo and the ship when it’s in port.

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Rom became interested in volunteering when a woman in his parish invited him to the centre.

‘I met a lot of other volunteers and met guys working on ships,’ he said.

‘It’s unique work. Some people have volunteered and found it’s not their cup of tea.’

Puma from Tuvalu, working on Best Vic Voyages

‘There are still people who’ll get involved with us voluntarily but young people are heading in a different direction. I’m hearing that from a lot of sectors.

We have a volunteer base but if someone is unavailable on a night it puts pressure on staff.’

He said they used to have games and quiz nights, and a fete in November, but they have fallen by the wayside.

‘We’re suffering like a lot of organisations with a lack of volunteers. Logistically it’s difficult to get (those activities) going again.’

As well as the Port of Melbourne Choir rehearsing on Tuesdays, the Malay-Borneo veterans and other ex-service groups use the space for meetings.

‘So many ships have stopped working because of the global financial crisis, and being an island nation we rely on shipping,’ Rom said.

There are other Stella Maris centres around Australia, but Rom says there are many more ports that need them. They don’t have the numbers.

‘If you go home and drive a car, that came in a ship. Socks, shirts came in on a ship. Televisions, microwave, computers, so many commodities were made overseas. Our primary producers are reliant on exports.

Li Shuangsi from Nanjing

‘A bishop once asked why they should be supplying the service. We asked what car do you drive? What sort of a TV do you have?

RECONNECTING WITH LIFE ON LAND

‘If the men and women who bring them here are under hardship Stella Maris provides support.

‘It’s gratifying work. We don’t seem to have the racial barriers here that you might see in the street.

‘There’s high respect here. We’re reconnecting them with life on land and providing them with links in a foreign land.’

Stella Maris are constantly on the lookout for volunteers and as we are a self-funded charity. Donations of $2 or more are tax deductible. Bequests and donations help drive the ministry/work in the busiest port in Australia
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B Traven

The secretive, elusive writer’s first book, published in Germany in 1926, concerns an American sailor who is trapped on a doomed ship to be sunk for its insurance money. It is believed that the author was born Berick Traven Torsvan in Chicago and lived in Germany and Mexico from the 1920s to his death.

The death ship is it I am in,
All I have lost, nothing to win
So far off sunny New Orleans
So far off lovely Louisiana