After two allisions damaged the terminal used for the Dublin-Holyhead ferry route earlier this month, Irish Ferries pivoted to open a new route between Dublin and Fishguard. On Friday, that route was also temporarily shut down by a dock allision on the inaugural voyage. 

During Storm Durragh in early December, two separate allisions damaged the Terminal 3 berth used by Irish Ferries, "resulting in part of the berthing structure collapsing and rendering it unusable," according to Holyhead Port. Drone footage of the scene appears to show that a mooring dolphin was toppled over into the water. 

The damage shut down the port until January 15, forcing traffic between Wales and Dublin to reroute. An initial assessment suggested that the port would be back up and running by December 20, but further investigation showed that the damage was more serious than expected, Irish Taoiseach Simon Harris told local media. 

Stena Line and Irish Ferries ordinarily operate up to five ferries a day from Holyhead, and the shutdown impedes freight and passenger transport. "We're really going to struggle to get goods delivered to both the high street and for internet shopping" in time for Christmas, Irish Road Haulage Association President Ger Hyland told Afloat.ie. 

To resolve the bottleneck, Irish Ferries and Stena Line have worked with the Welsh government and other ports in the region to find alternatives. Ken Skates, Cabinet Secretary for Transport and North Wales, pledged to "leave no stone unturned in urgently identifying alternative solutions." Both lines have reassigned vessels and set up temporary services between Dublin and Fishguard, a port 90 miles to the south of Holyhead.   

On Friday, the ferry Isle of Innisfree was arriving at Fishguard for its first voyage on the new route when it hit the quay, putting a hole in the starboard bow. 

Isle of Innisfree quickly returned to service, according to Irish Ferries' online tracker. The ferry is on the schedule for normal departures beginning Monday. 

@Tessa_Ndj the reason why Isle of Inisfree ferry stuck in Fishguard. They crashed into the pier..picture attached pic.twitter.com/HuAVZGbf8s

— Shane C (@ShaneEBoy848) December 20, 2024

 

Offshore wind development is driving shipyard expansion in an unexpected place - Dubai, the glittering financial hub of the Arab world. 

Last week, GE Vernova and DP World's shipyard division Drydocks World announced that they have won the transmission-system contract for Ostwind 4, a new 2 GW offshore wind farm in the Baltic Sea. The project team will deliver a high voltage DC connection for the project, a first for the area. On completion in 2031, it will deliver enough power for up to two million households. 

Drydocks World's portion of the scope includes the fabrication of the farm's offshore converter platform. The jacket and topsides will be built in Dubai, shipped to the Baltic and installed off Rugen Island. 

Last week, just in time for the award, DP World held an inaugural ceremony for the opening of a large yard expansion that will give it more room for projects like Ostwind 4. According to DP World, the expansion increases fabrication capacity by 40 percent and yard capacity by 25 percent, helping Drydocks World to carry out multiple large-scale projects at the same time. It has the largest load-out jetty in the Middle East and Africa, capable of handling structures weighing up to 37,000 tonnes - perfect for large topsides structures. 

"The South Yard expansion is a testament to Drydocks World’s commitment to innovation and sustainable growth," said Sultan Ahmed bin Sulayem, Group Chairman & Chief Executive Officer at DP World. "As the demand for cutting-edge energy solutions rises globally, this facility will enable us to lead in renewable energy infrastructure." 

According to DP World, the South Yard expansion is fully powered by solar electricity from the nearby Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum Solar Park, reducing its carbon footprint. 

 

Australia is ratcheting up enforcement operations against illegal foreign fishing vessels off the nation's remote western and northern coastlines, and its on-the-water busts are yielding prison sentences in short order.

Last week, 16 Indonesian fishermen pleaded guilty to illegal fishing charges at a court in the port city of Darwin. The individuals were captured in two separate interdictions earlier this month. 

The first intercept occurred on December 3 in Kimberley Marine Park, a reserve off Western Australia. The Australian Border Force arrested the vessel's nine crewmembers, confiscated their equipment and sank their boat at sea. 

The vessel's master had been caught and found guilty for illegal fishing offenses in Australia before, and he was sentenced to three months in prison. A second crewmember with a prior conviction received the same prison term, and the rest of the crew were given two years of probation backed up with a $2,000 undertaking. 

The second interdiction occurred December 9 off the coast of Oxley Island in Australia's Northern Territory. As before, the seven members of the crew were arrested, their gear confiscated and their boat destroyed. The master was fined AU$5,000, and the crew received three years of probation. 

All those not imprisoned will be deported promptly to Indonesia. 

The cases bring the total number of Indonesian illegal-fishing prosecutions at Darwin to 99 since July, reflecting the increased operational tempo of authorities' enforcement activities.

“Our message is clear: we have zero tolerance for illegal activity in Australian waters," said Commander Maritime Border Command, Rear Admiral Brett Sonter. "Those who engage in this activity risk losing everything – from their catch and equipment to their vessels and liberty." 

 

This year has particularly been challenging for containerized cargo shippers, with geopolitical factors and low water levels in Panama Canal destabilizing supply chains. But these disruptions - combined with domestic shipping challenges - have seen some countries bear the brunt of high inflation, and Australia is among the nations most affected. In its annual report, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (ACCC) singled out supply chain disruptions as a major pain point for consumers in 2024. Some importers in Australia had to pay four to 11 times as much for ocean freight as a year earlier, according to the report.

“It’s been a difficult time for businesses dependent on the container freight supply chain, which in turn affects consumers and impacts the Australian economy through higher costs and shipping delays. We have found there are likely market failures in the container supply chain which may warrant a policy or regulatory response,” said Anna Brakey, ACCC Commissioner.

Specifically, the ACCC report raises concerns about the limited competition on landside charges charged by stevedores and empty-container storage yards. 

The report found out that stevedores and empty-container yards enjoy massive market power, giving them little incentive to discount their charges to transport operators. Over the last seven years, stevedores in Australian ports have reportedly hiked their landside charges far beyond any increases in operating cost. For instance, between 2016-17 and 2023-24, real stevedoring industry total revenue per lift has increased by $45 per container (22.6 percent), while real stevedoring industry total costs per lift have increased by $15 per container (8.9 percent).

“Stevedores appear to be able to raise landside charges more easily than charges to shipping lines, as importers and exporters are constrained in their capacity to respond to increases,” added Ms Brakey.

In a similar pattern, the empty-container yards have also significantly hiked prices since 2008. In Sydney for example, fees have increased from $3 per container in 2018 to $112 per container in the first half of 2024.

According to ACCC, these price hikes are uncompetitive and a sign that government scrutiny could be warranted.  

 

[By Anton L. Delgado]

On Son Island in Vietnam’s Mekong Delta, Le Trung Tin scatters fish feed into his ponds, where dozens of snakehead fish leap through the surface in synchronised bursts. “I taught them how to do that,” he says proudly, tossing another handful of feed at his fish.

The scene looks idyllic, but Le’s fish farm is a reluctant response to an escalating crisis. For decades, he made his living fishing the Hau River, a distributary of the Mekong. But in recent years, plastic waste clogged his nets and strangled the fish. “I had no choice but to stop,” he says. “Everything was tangled – trash, nets, even the fish themselves. It was hopeless.”

Now, Le relies on enclosed ponds using filtered water to keep his fish alive. “I built this ecological environment free of plastic waste, chemical spills and [protected it from] extreme weather,” he says.

(Video: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

Le’s experience reflects the wider challenges facing the Mekong. Stretching over 4,300 kilometres from the Tibetan Plateau to the South China Sea, the river supports nearly 70 million people and some of the world’s most biodiverse ecosystems. Yet, it is one of the most plastic-polluted rivers in the world and among the 10 rivers in Asia that carry the vast majority of plastic to the sea. The Mekong dumps – by some estimates – tens of thousands of tonnes each year into the ocean, with plastic waste accumulating along its banks, tributaries and lakes.

Plastic enters the Mekong in myriad ways – agricultural runoff, unregulated dumping and a flood of single-use packaging from upstream countries like China and Myanmar. It accumulates in hotspots like Tonle Sap Lake in Cambodia and the wetlands of Vietnam’s Mekong Delta, where this plastic waste threatens biodiversity, food security and human health.

The unchecked proliferation of single-use plastics, combined with a lack of waste management infrastructure across the region, has resulted in widespread mismanagement of plastic waste – much of which is neither recycled, incinerated nor properly disposed in landfills. Vietnam, often ranked as the world’s fourth-largest contributor of mismanaged plastic waste, also accounts for a significant share of marine plastic debris, highlighting the country’s struggle to address the crisis effectively.

Addressing the Mekong’s plastic pollution crisis will require coordinated efforts from regional governments and transboundary organisations, however experts say a lasting solution requires a bold global agreement limiting plastic use and production, combined with enforceable regional policies.

A global crisis: Will the plastics treaty deliver?

Hopes were high as national negotiators gathered in Busan, South Korea, to finalise the Global Plastics Treaty – an ambitious UN effort aimed at tackling the global plastic pollution crisis. However, the talks were adjourned earlier this month without agreement, leaving campaigners frustrated in their push for the treaty to address both ends of the crisis: limiting plastic production and improving global waste-management systems.

On Sunday 1 December, the final day of the summit, Eirik Lindebjerg, global plastics policy lead for WWF, said governments were “no closer to agreeing on a solution to the worsening plastic crisis.”

“For too long, a small minority of states have held the negotiation process hostage. It is abundantly clear that these countries have no intention of finding a meaningful solution to this crisis,” he continued in a press release. “It is unjust that those who bear the greatest burden of plastic pollution are being denied the opportunity to forge a solution among themselves by those profiteering off the unregulated production and consumption of plastic.”

Critics also point out that previous global agreements to resolve environmental crises, such as climate change and biodiversity loss, have fallen short of their goals due to weak enforcement mechanisms and the influence of powerful industry lobbying groups.

A plastic bag full of waste floats down the Ruak River, a tributary of the Mekong on the border of Myanmar and Thailand. Nearby, a rescued elephant plays in the water. The United Nations Environment Programme warns plastic pollution could triple by 2040, threatening the biodiversity of this rich ecosystem (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

Plastic production has doubled over the past 20 years, with over 400 million tonnes produced annually. Single-use plastics, which make up half of this total, are particularly problematic, accounting for a significant portion of the waste clogging rivers like the Mekong. While technological solutions like recycling and waste-to-energy plants are often advocated by industry, their impact pales in comparison to the scale of production.

The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) has warned that plastic pollution could triple by 2040 without drastic action.

“The price for inaction is far greater than wasted time, it puts both planetary and human health on the line and sets us up for a scenario where ambition could diminish over time,” says Erin Simon, vice president and head of plastic waste and business with WWF. “We can’t back down on delivering a legally binding text that finally puts us on a course to eliminate plastic pollution,” he added.

Local fisher Boonrat Chaikeaw catches a net full of trash as he plies the Mekong’s waters by Chiang Khong on the border of Thailand and Laos (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

Dialogue Earth visited four plastic-waste hotspots along the lower reaches of the Mekong – Chiang Saen in Thailand, Phnom Penh and Tonle Sap Lake in Cambodia and Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. These sites showcase the problems the plastics treaty needs to address: waste from newly produced plastic, the damaging impact of plastic waste on local people and the transnational nature of the problem.

Chiang Saen, Thailand: Where the Mekong’s plastic problem peaks

In northern Thailand, the Mekong flows past Chiang Saen near the Golden Triangle, where Thailand, Myanmar and Laos converge. Here, plastic waste collects in growing heaps along the riverbanks. The debris – food wrappers, plastic bottles and fishing nets – has floated downstream from upstream countries like China and Myanmar, clogging tributaries like the Ruak River.

“Sometimes it feels like the waste never ends,” says Poonyawee Srisantear, who manages a local elephant camp. Mahouts (elephant keepers) at the camp regularly collect rubbish from the riverbanks to protect their elephants. “The smell of food clings to the plastic and elephants often mistake it for something to eat,” she explains. “When they swallow it, it can be life-threatening to them.”

(Video: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

Although plastic waste is visible along the Mekong’s banks, quantitative information remains scarce. In recent years, international organisations have tried to quantify the scale of the problem.

Thailand, like many Mekong countries, also struggles with inadequate waste management systems, which exacerbate the problem. Over 150 plastic-waste hotspots have been identified across the country. A 2023 study detected close to 1,000 official and unofficial waste sites across Southeast Asia, nearly a fifth of which were located within 200m of a waterway. Almost half of these were in the five Mekong nations of Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand and Vietnam.

A volunteer douses a burning pile of rubbish at an unofficial dump site next to the Tonle Sap River in Cambodia. The lack of proper waste management exacerbates the problem of plastic pollution in most Mekong countries (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

Chiang Saen is also the site of one of the Mekong River Commission’s (MRC) upcoming video monitoring stations, part of a broader initiative to track plastic flows across the basin. The MRC serves as an intergovernmental advisory body and the video monitoring system dovetails with its new protocols for riverine microplastic monitoring; the first guidelines standardising water health monitoring across the lower Mekong basin.

“We need more [and better] data to drive policy change,” says Phan Nam Long, a water quality officer with the MRC. “Without information on the scale of the problem, we cannot create effective solutions.”

Critics, however, argue that such monitoring efforts fall short of addressing the underlying problem, in part due to the MRC’s limited advisory role to the region’s governments.

“It is fine for the MRC to monitor. Yes, the more information, the better. But that can’t be the only thing the MRC or the Mekong nations do,” says Niwat Roykaew, also known as Kru Thi (teacher in Thai), an environmental activist, who founded the Mekong School. “We can see how the garbage impacts the river. We can see how the garbage impacts those dependent on the river. That is enough information for us to begin to act.”

Niwat wants to see a basin-wide accountability framework to tackle plastic pollution. But with no agreement from the UN in Busan, he questions whether the Mekong region will be able to overcome its own divisions to establish a unified approach.

“All the countries that share the Mekong River must share the responsibility,” he says. “Plastic is choking the river and the consequences affect us all – from the fish we eat to the water we drink.”

Recent studies conducted along the riverside near Niwat’s school underline his point.

“We’re addicted to plastics, now more than ever,” says Panate Manomaivibool, an assistant professor at Thailand’s Burapha University. Over the course of a year, ending in July 2022, his team collected 2,650 large waste samples from the waters around the Golden Triangle. He adds: “Compared to the scale of the problem, attempts to fix it are tiny.”

Panate’s research determined that 91% of the waste was plastic, with labels indicating around 30% originated in Myanmar and nearly 20% in China, underscoring the transboundary nature of the challenge. “Plastic pollution has already contaminated our food chain and all life in the Mekong,” he warns.

Panate tells Dialogue Earth he tries “to be optimistic that we are not yet at the irreversible turning point”, but fears the region’s addiction to plastic will be hard to break.

“We are the first generation facing this problem on this scale. Our ancestors, even our parents, were never exposed to this level of plastic pollution,” he says. “Without an alternative, our countries will always choose to use the cheapest, easiest option. For now, that remains plastic.”

The confluence of the Ruak and Mekong rivers marks the point where Myanmar, Laos and Thailand meet, an area known as the Golden Triangle. Over 4,300 km in length, the Mekong passes through or marks the borders of six countries (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

The Thai government has taken action by announcing a ban on plastic waste imports from 2025, a move inspired by China’s 2018 restrictions, which redirected foreign waste to countries such as Vietnam, Malaysia and Thailand itself. Yet domestic plastic consumption continues to rise.

“The more people there are, the more the city develops, the economy grows and the use of plastic increases,” says Saksan Chuamuangpan, director of Chiang Saen’s Public Health Department.

Waste production in the district has skyrocketed from two tonnes per day two decades ago to 15 tonnes today, he says, and warns a joint effort is needed.

Tonle Sap Lake: Cambodia’s beating heart

In Cambodia, Tonle Sap Lake – a vital freshwater fishery for Southeast Asia – is increasingly choked by plastic waste. Each monsoon season, the Tonle Sap River reverses flow, carrying waste upstream into the lake. This cycle has made the survival of the lake’s ecosystems ever more uncertain.

Since assuming the role of Cambodia’s environment minister last year, Eang Sophalleth has made addressing plastic pollution a priority. As part of a national anti-plastics campaign he has called on half of Cambodia’s 17 million inhabitants to reduce their use of plastics.

“Plastic is our number one enemy,” he said at the September launch of the campaign.

Cambodia also joined the Global Plastic Action Partnership last year and signed an agreement with Laos to tackle cross-border plastic pollution. But the focus has been on changing public perception and plastic habits, with little mention of plastic manufacturers or waste management improvements. Eang says only when plastic reduction targets are met, will a major clean-up of Tonle Sap Lake, the nation’s main source of protein, take place. “There’s no point in cleaning if we’re throwing away more than we clean up,” he said.

As it stands, though, much of the plastic continues to accumulate in fishing nets and along the shorelines, with little evidence of progress on waste reduction.

The propeller of a fishing boat on Tonle Sap Lake, jammed by a plastic bag. Fishers on the lake, and elsewhere along the Mekong, face a daily struggle with plastic waste, which breaks their motors and clogs up their nets (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

In Kampong Phluk, a fishing village on Tonle Sap Lake, plastic waste disrupts daily life for local communities. Sophal Sea, director of the NGO Bambooshoot, says the debris is damaging livelihoods. “The nets get tangled, motors break down and fish stocks are declining,” he says.

Welcoming the government’s apparent focus on plastic, he adds: “This is the first time I’ve heard government leaders promise that kind of support.” However, he stressed the need for political support and regulations to address the systemic issues fuelling the crisis and to wean Cambodia off what he described as its “trash culture”.

Plastic disposal options are scarce in villages surrounding the lake, leading residents to dump waste directly into the water.

“Most people don’t know how to dispose of their waste properly. They just throw it everywhere,” says Srey Toch, a litter picker with River Ocean Cleanup who has joined Sophal and a group of volunteers to collect rubbish at the confluence of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers.

Srey Toch’s observations are corroborated by Sovann Nou, River Ocean Cleanup’s executive director, who attributes the problem to inadequate household and industrial waste management, combined with limited awareness amongst the public regarding the impact plastic waste has.

Walking along the riverbank, he stops to hold up some of the debris: plastic tarps, bottles and tyres. At one point he pauses to pick up a dead turtle lying among the waste – its death a stark reminder of the toll plastic pollution takes on wildlife.

As the Mekong flows south past Phnom Penh toward Vietnam, Eang expressed hope that other upstream nations will follow Cambodia’s lead in beginning to take steps to tackle plastic pollution. “If we clean up plastics, downstream communities like Vietnam will be grateful. We’ll all benefit,” he said.

Can Tho: Where the Mekong meets the sea

In Vietnam’s Mekong Delta, the river fans out into a vast network of tributaries and wetlands supporting millions of people through farming and fishing. Known as Vietnam’s “rice bowl”, this fertile region is also heavily impacted by plastic pollution, with much of the waste from upstream deposited in its waterways and rice fields.

By the time the Mekong reaches Vietnam’s Delta, the river carries the accumulated waste of its 4,300km journey.

“Most inland waste reaches the river through canals, especially during annual flooding,” says Nguyen Xuan Hoang, a researcher from Can Tho University’s College of Environment and Natural Resources. “Most of this plastic isn’t from Vietnam, but as the basin’s lowest point, we suffer the most.”

Back on Son Island, on the Hau River, Le has experienced this suffering firsthand, but switching to fish farming in enclosed ponds appears to have paid off. He notes a reduction in fish deaths, combined with an increase in profits compared to his previous ventures in the plastic-choked waters of the river.

“Living in harmony with nature is essential for fish farming, but it’s becoming harder in the delta,” he adds, acknowledging the additional effort required to shield his livelihood from the worsening environmental challenges.

For farmers like Trung Tin, in nearby Thoi Lai District, the pollution is impossible to ignore. Due to a lack of plastic waste disposal options, farmers often leave fertiliser and pesticide bottles in fields, fearing the release of toxins if they burn them. Rain washes these bottles and residues into the canals, polluting the delta’s waterways.

Rice farmer Trung Tin picks up plastic waste from his paddy field in Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. Lacking waste disposal infrastructure, he says farmers often have no choice but to leave used fertiliser and pesticide bottles – like the one he is carrying – in their fields (Image: Anton L. Delgado / Dialogue Earth)

According to Trung, who has farmed rice for over 20 years, “the climate now is not easy”. “The soil has less nutrition, and we must protect crops, even if it means using more chemicals.” Seeing discarded bottles in the river, he adds: “It’s scary to think about what’s in the fish we eat.”

Cong Thuan Nguyen, another researcher at Can Tho University, confirmed that agricultural waste from rice farms is a significant source of pollution. “We’re still trying to understand the full scale. The more we learn, the more the problem grows,” he tells Dialogue Earth.

In 2019, the Vietnamese government appeared to take steps to combat the plastic crisis, by announcing a ban on plastic waste imports starting in 2025. In 2022, it implemented the Extended Producer Responsibility policy, requiring companies to manage the recycling of their products and packaging to reduce waste and promote sustainability.

Despite these commitments, the country was the world’s fourth largest importer of plastic waste in 2022, adding to its waste management struggles. A significant proportion – up to 30% – of this imported plastic leaks into rivers and waterways, including the Mekong Delta, often carried by runoff or untreated wastewater.

As the 2025 deadline for plastic waste imports approaches, Vietnam’s ability to enforce the ban and transition to alternative recycling or disposal systems will be critical to reducing the plastic burden on the Mekong Delta and safeguarding the livelihoods it sustains. Among these challenges is the need for greater clarity from Vietnam, whose stance on INC-5 appears to straddle both national economic interests, particularly in the plastics industry, and broader commitments to addressing global plastic pollution. Moving forward, Vietnam will need to prioritise one over the other to demonstrate its commitment to tangible action.

Thailand, meanwhile, has expressed support for a legally binding international agreement to reduce plastic waste and mitigate its environmental and health impacts. However, its heavy reliance on single-use plastics and limited progress in addressing domestic waste management challenges raise questions about how effectively these commitments will be implemented. Similarly, while Cambodia has emphasised the importance of effective implementation mechanisms, including the establishment of national committees under Article 8 of the treaty, its capacity to deliver on these objectives remains uncertain. The country’s reliance on international collaboration, capacity-building and technical assistance underscores gaps in its existing infrastructure to tackle plastic pollution independently.

Meanwhile, grassroots efforts are working to clean the Mekong Delta despite overwhelming odds. Waste-collecting boats regularly navigate canals to remove debris and NGOs run educational campaigns to reduce dependency on single-use plastic.

The Mekong’s plastic crisis is not just a regional issue; it is emblematic of a global failure to manage waste sustainably. As the river carries tens of thousands of tonnes of plastic waste into the South China Sea each year, its plight underscores the urgency of solutions at every level – local, regional and global.

“We have not yet reached the summit of our efforts,” INC chair Luis Vayas said on Sunday, at the end of seven days of negotiation that concluded without consensus. The meeting was adjourned, with plans to reconvene next year, leaving questions about how soon tangible actions might address pressing issues like plastic pollution in the Mekong Delta.

Without intervention, the Mekong will continue offloading plastic into the South China Sea. From the first signs of plastic pollution in the Golden Triangle to the plastic-clogged canals of the delta, the river’s journey highlights the urgent need for coordinated, cross-border action to protect both the river and the millions who depend on it.

Anton L. Delgado is a multimedia journalist based in Cambodia, covering news and the environment across the region. He is also a former Pulitzer fellow.

This article appears courtesy of Dialogue Earth and may be found in its original form here. 

 

It's a new era in American maritime. The old generation is retiring. A new one is taking its place. But challenges remain as a career at sea becomes less and less appealing to job-seekers.

"Gone are the days when highly educated and skilled people work quietly for the same company for 30 years," says M.E.B.A. President Adam Vokac. "We're in an era of job-hopping every few years, social media and more accessible options. Understanding how to market and recruit in the new environment will, we hope, keep us relevant."

Fortunately, the 46-year-old Vokac and his youthful leadership team at M.E.B.A. know exactly how to do that. They're among the youngest labor leaders in America right now and have a vibrant vision of what needs to be done to promote and grow U.S. maritime. "The future of American maritime labor is diverse, young, educated and hungry," notes Roland "Rex" Rexha, M.E.B.A.'s Secretary-Treasurer. "We believe we exemplify these traits as leaders and are hoping to use our platform to create a brighter future for our members and our industry."

So far, so good. Since taking office in 2021, Vokac and his team have seen membership go up, pay and benefits improve and more options become available for those who want to come shore-side. And for the first time in nearly 50 years, the sitting President of M.E.B.A. is running unopposed for reelection – a rousing mandate from members that they approve the path Vokac and his team have chosen.

A history of righting wrongs

M.E.B.A. traces its origins back 150 years. Back then, boiler explosions aboard steamships were frequent and catastrophic. Miserable safety standards and miniscule paychecks made the life of a mariner an unstable and precarious profession.

To combat this nefarious state of affairs, M.E.B.A.'s ten founding fathers met in Cleveland, Ohio in 1875 to form a united front against the dangerous working conditions of the day. They joined forces to effect change – not because shipowners wanted it to happen – but because they realized that things wouldn't get better for mariners without the solidarity of a union.

They laid the groundwork for a union dedicated to protecting and advancing the interests of mariners everywhere. M.E.B.A. was the first union to secure a 40-hour work week at sea, setting a new standard for maritime labor. M.E.B.A. forefathers won the right to overtime pay and night relief, ensuring fair compensation for all hours worked. Additionally, M.E.B.A. achieved the right to manage its own hiring halls and to have union representatives visit ships and safeguard proper working conditions for its members.

M.E.B.A. fought tirelessly for legislation to certify and license waterborne engineers, ensuring high standards in the profession. It secured the placement of U.S. officers – both deck and engine – aboard U.S.-flag ships, played a key role in repealing unfair seafarer fees and significantly improved the standard of living for all mariners. Most importantly, it provided for the safety of its members in a highly dangerous profession – a concern that persists to this day.

Among its most dynamic leaders was former President Jesse Calhoon, a powerful, visionary personality and a formidable adversary in negotiations. Serving as M.E.B.A.'s top executive and Chairman of the Board of Trustees for over 20 years (1963-1985), he leveraged his boundless energy to significantly impact the industry and Capitol Hill.

Under his leadership, wages and benefits for members saw dramatic increases, and his advocacy extended far beyond the confines of his own union and had a profound impact on the broader maritime community nationwide. With more than 40 years of dedicated service to M.E.B.A., Calhoon achieved numerous victories for the union, leaving a lasting legacy that continues to influence and shape the organization today.

His legacy is further preserved in the Calhoon M.E.B.A. Engineering School (CMES) in Easton, Maryland. Established by Calhoon in 1966 as a merchant marine cadet program to train young men and women seeking licenses and an eventual career at sea, CMES eventually evolved into the foremost continuing education facility for licensed officers, making M.E.B.A. the most reliable source of seagoing labor today. In 2011, the union began celebrating "Jesse Calhoon Day" on his April 4th birthday.

Over the past 150 years, M.E.B.A. has evolved as a leader in the maritime industry on many fronts including the safest working conditions, the best contracts in the industry, fair and equal representation of members and a long-term, well-funded pension plan with the best retirement benefits in the industry.

As a result, the union's membership includes not just marine engineers but deck officers and unlicensed positions as well. "We have contracts that represent virtually every shipboard position," says Vokac, "and we continue to attract a diverse workforce – both deck and engine, officers and unlicensed, and related shoreside positions."

A new vision

Today's challenges, of course, are different from those of the past. There's a chronic shortage of mariners, not a surplus–not just in the U.S., but globally. The American flag fleet is shrinking–like those of so many other countries.

"Our number one challenge is growth," Vokac states. "Most newly licensed officers are not willing to commit to sailing deep sea for the next 30 years. They want a better balance between work and family life."

So M.E.B.A. has aggressively sought out shoreside opportunities for those members who, after a number of years at sea, want to do something else. To enhance the attractiveness of a life at sea, it strongly advocates reestablishment of a healthy pay differential between a sea career versus one on land to compensate for the dangers and sacrifices of a life at sea – a kind of combat pay that disappeared over time. And it's currently working on legislation to increase U.S. cargo by providing tax incentives to shippers who voluntarily choose to fly the stars and stripes.

"The intent is to increase the economic competitiveness of U.S.-flag ships, thereby increasing their number," he explains. "Legislation like the above would incentivize more cargo and be an organic driver of growth. Companies could invest long-term and make bold operational decisions with confidence. And when the industry finally has a positive outlook, more young people will want to join it."

The rest of the industry is taking notice. Last year, Vokac was the recipient of the prestigious AOTOS (Admiral of the Ocean Sea) Award from United Seamen's Service – one of the youngest recipients in the award's long history. He was cited for his "exceptional leadership and dedication to protecting the rights of merchant mariners."

He understands that, to succeed, he needs the support of the rest of maritime – not just the unions but the companies that employ them: "We all recognize that working together will improve maritime more than working alone." He and his team at M.E.B.A. are proudly leading the way.

 

Chinese government officials have refused to let a Swedish prosecutor board a Chinese bulker that was accused of sabotaging subsea cables in the Baltic, according to the Financial Times.  The vessel and crew have now departed the region, and they are under way for Egypt - leaving just one last opportunity to apprehend them in NATO member states' waters.

On Nov. 17-18, two subsea cables suddenly broke off the coast of Sweden. AIS data shows that the bulker Yi Peng 3 was maneuvering oddly at the sites where the cables were severed. In addition, one of its anchors is badly twisted, and the damaged cable sites showed clear signs of anchor-dragging on the bottom.

Yi Peng 3 was intercepted by Danish forces as she entered the Great Belt, but she was not halted while transiting Danish waters. Instead, she was allowed to exit the Great Belt and anchored just outside of Danish territorial seas, in the Kattegat. There she remained for a month, guarded by Danish and German vessels - safe from a law-enforcement boarding because she was in international waters.

Sweden - which is leading the investigation - petitioned the Yi Peng 3's flag state for permission to board and inspect the vessel. The flag state, China, said that it would cooperate and then negotiated over the terms of investigators' access for weeks. In the end, Chinese authorities sent their own team to conduct an investigation and allowed European representatives to participate as observers only. Sweden's public prosecutor on the case, Henrik Söderman, was disallowed by Chinese officials and could not board to perform his duties, according to the Financial Times. 

"It is remarkable that the ship leaves without the prosecutor being given the opportunity to inspect the vessel and question the crew within the framework of a Swedish criminal investigation," Swedish foreign minister Maria Malmer Stenergard told the FT. 

The Yi Peng 3 affair is the second suspected subsea infrastructure attack involving a Chinese vessel in the Baltic in two years, and Lithuanian foreign affairs minister Kestutis Budrys suggested that it is time to take action. 

"Building security starts with mitigating weaknesses," said Budrys. "China's unwillingness to cooperate on the undersea incident investigations in the Baltic Sea cannot be allowed to set a precedent in Europe - or anywhere else. If the 'what's mine is mine' mentality becomes a new global norm, it will have to be countered by new navigation rules in EU waters to address vulnerabilities."

As of Sunday, Yi Peng 3 was under way in the North Sea and headed south for the English Channel, putting her on a course to pass through the Strait of Dover - the last point on her route that will put her in jurisdictional reach of Sweden's NATO allies. For the remainder of her declared voyage to Egypt, she will be able to use international waters to transit onwards. 

 

On Sunday morning, a U.S. Navy cruiser accidentally shot down a U.S. Navy fighter jet over the Red Sea, forcing the two pilots to eject. The friendly-fire incident occurred after a UAV and missile barrage launched by Yemen's Houthi rebels, according to U.S. Central Command. 

Early Sunday morning, an F/A-18 Super Hornet launched off the deck of the carrier USS Harry S. Truman in the Red Sea. Shortly after the fighter took off, the crew of the USS Gettysburg - the carrier strike group's cruiser, typically the host of the air defense commander - misidentified the F/A-18 as a threat and shot it down. The pilots safely ejected and were retrieved, though one had minor injuries. 

The incident occurred during a high-operational-tempo action off the coast of Yemen. On Saturday, before the accident, U.S. Central Command carried out a round of airstrikes against Houthi missile storage and command-and-control facilities in Sana’a, Yemen. During the operation on Saturday, CENTCOM forces also shot down multiple incoming Houthi suicide drones and one antiship cruise missile (ASCM) over the Red Sea. Both U.S. Air Force fighters and U.S. Navy F/A-18s were involved in that operation. 

The friendly-fire incident highlighted the exceptionally challenging threat environment in the Red Sea, as well as the pressures on air defense personnel. In the tight confines of the Red Sea, U.S. Navy surface combatants often have a matter of seconds to correctly identify a Houthi missile threat and launch an interceptor in response. The risks of miscalculation are high, and this is not the first time that the allied response team in the Red Sea has made a mistake. 

In February 2024, the German Navy frigate Hesse nearly shot down a U.S. drone aircraft over the Red Sea. The crew could not identify the drone and concluded that it posed a threat. Due to an unspecified "technical error," two missiles fired by Hesse at the drone both missed. "The case was resolved when it turned out that it wasn't a hostile drone, which only became clear in hindsight," German defense ministry spokesman Michael Stempfle said at the time. 

USS Gettysburg is a Ticonderoga-class cruiser commissioned in 1991. She was fitted with a Cold War-era AN/SPY-1 multifunction air defense radar, which was upgraded during a nine-year-long inactivation and modernization period (2015-24). She is the only cruiser to complete repairs and deploy following the Navy's controversial service life extension program for the Ticonderoga-class.

 

Global shipping giant Maersk has hit fishing interests in Alaska with news that it plans to withdraw from two of the state’s ports on its transpacific service network. 

As part of its revision of services for the coming year, the liner said it intends to suspend its calls at terminals at Dutch Harbor and Kodiak, two primary export hubs for the $1.5 billion Alaska pollock fishery. The world’s second-largest container shipping company attributed the decision to an “ongoing effort to strengthen our product offerings and maintain reliability in the network.”

According to Maersk, the Danish-flagged container feeder Cape Sorel will carry out the final westbound voyage out of Dutch Harbor on February 11.  

Dutch Harbor is one of the largest commercial fishing ports in the U.S., and its exports go to markets in Europe and Asia. In 2022, some 613.5 million pounds of seafood across various species were landed in Dutch Harbor. Kodiak is also a top fishing port, home to a large fleet and multiple canneries. The bulk of the product by volume is pollock, the wildly prolific Gulf of Alaska species used to make fish sticks and other processed products.

Alaska's fishing industry has been hit hard over the past few years due to declines in several key commercial species - notably snow crab, chum salmon and king salmon. Coupled with other economic factors, this has cut the industry's profitability in half since 2021, according to NOAA Fisheries. 

Top image: Reefer ships at Dutch Harbor, Alaska (Delta Whiskey / CC BY ND 2.0)

 

[By Ingebjørg Hestvik]

Kongsfjorden, Svalbard, May 2022: It’s spring, the sun is shining – which means the plankton in the cold waters of the Arctic Ocean are about to bloom.

Long bright days and rising temperatures have awakened the phytoplankton. The spring bloom has begun, and populations of these tiny plankton are growing explosively beneath the surface.

From a boat out on the fjord, Tore Mo-Bjørkelund launches a robot into the sea. Then another one.

The robots are two lightweight autonomous underwater vehicles (AUVs) that have been programmed to move around in the water and detect the fluorescence emitted by chlorophyll. Chlorophyll is the green pigment that phytoplankton uses for photosynthesis.

“Spring is a hectic time in the ocean, and algal blooms are a dynamic and complex process. They are difficult to analyse in detail,” says Mo-Bjørkelund.

Water sampling

Mo-Bjørkelund’s PhD at NTNU has involved developing algorithms to map the bloom in both time and space. Accompanying him out on the sea is marine biologist Sanna Majaneva, who is ready to take water samples once the robots have located the densest concentrations of algae.

While Mo-Bjørkelund is testing expensive new advanced robotics, Majaneva is equipped with a Niskin water sampler: a plastic tube attached to a wire with a simple mechanical trigger mechanism.

When the tube reaches the right depth, a weight is sent down the wire that hits a trigger and the tube closes. The sampler is very similar to one Fridtjof Nansen developed over a hundred years ago to collect water samples at precisely the desired depth.

There are a number of different ways to study plankton. Here, the researchers use a Niskin water sampler. Photo: Martin Ludvigsen, NTNU

Old but reliable methods

The two AUVs moving around below the surface may seem technologically superior, but it is Sanna Majaneva’s simple water sampler that ultimately provides all the answers.

“Those things really work. The problem with technological development is that the things we make don’t usually work. By contrast, a plankton net or a water sampler works almost every time. They are simple, cheap and reliable solutions that modern technology struggles to match,” says Mo-Bjørkelund.

However, biologists need new solutions to gain a better overview of what is happening beneath the greyish-blue, opaque surface of the water.

A water sampler can take samples along a vertical line in the water and provide an overview of what is happening at precisely that location. But it provides little insight into what the algal bloom is doing in the space surrounding that vertical line.

That’s why Majaneva needs help from Mo-Bjørklund’s underwater robot.  The robot can do something that her water sampler can’t: It can find its way to the tightest concentration of phytoplankton in the water column.

Can check plankton concentrations and dispersal

“You might think plankton is distributed homogeneously in the water, but we know that in fact the distribution is quite uneven – a kind of a fine-scale patchiness,” she said. “It’s difficult to study using traditional methods, and there may be more interaction between the different organisms inside these patches than we currently know about.”

Majaneva is one of several marine biologists from NTNU who have participated in the ‘Nansen Legacy’ project, an interdisciplinary research project on the marine climate and ecosystems undergoing rapid changes.

The annual spring blooms of phytoplankton form the very foundation of marine ecosystems, yet there is still much we do not know.

“I study zooplankton. I want to understand what differentiates them from each other, how they coexist, and how they influence one another in the pelagic environment,” says Majaneva.

Studies of what happens during a phytoplankton bloom are important to gain better insight into the processes affecting organisms one step higher up the food chain.

“We would like to know more about biodiversity and the prevalence of different plankton species. Perhaps this fine-scale patchiness plays a more significant role than we previously thought,” says Majaneva.

Robots taught to make decisions underway

The two underwater robots are now going to move around and measure fluorescence in an area measuring 1.5 by 1.5 km, down to a depth of 50 metres. This will allow them to locate the highest concentration of chlorophyll in this three-dimensional box of water.

They will also calculate where the measurements are most uncertain so they can retake measurements and improve the quality of the data. At the same time, they need to avoid crashing into each other.

“The topic for my PhD has been adaptive measurements. Measurements are used along the way to determine where to measure next. I wouldn’t call it artificial intelligence as there are no neural networks in play, but we train a model on data we collect in the field. The robot makes decisions based on data collected during the process. The model is a mathematical-statistical process, a spatially optimal that the robot uses to make decisions,” Mo-Bjørkelund says.

Prior to his fieldwork, he has fine-tuned the software by running simulations of what the researchers expect to happen in the field. He will now find out if the system works.

3-D pictures of photosynthesis in real time

After an initial round of mapping, the two robots rise to the surface to exchange data via satellite. This enables one robot to make decisions based on data from the other.  This may include revisiting areas with uncertain measurements as well as avoiding colliding with the other robot.

On board the research ship, the researchers can monitor the measurement data, which are displayed as three-dimensional images on a screen, creating a model of the photosynthesis in the water, right there and then.

“In this case, we saw that there wasn’t much chlorophyll on the surface, but that there was a huge bloom further down,” says Mo-Bjørkelund.

While Mo-Bjørklund has done most of his work in the office before the expedition to Svalbard, this is where Majaneva’s work begins.

The water sampler’s turn

After a second round of measurements, the robots are lifted out of the water. The researchers sail to the location where the robots measured the densest concentrations of chlorophyll and deploy the water sampler to find plankton.

What species are in the water? How does energy flow between the phytoplankton and the zooplankton?

For Mo-Bjørkelund, this marks the culmination of years of work.

“This was just a trial. If these types of robots are to be used as a standard method, much more engineering is required. Biologists are using technology that was developed decades ago, because modern technology simply isn’t reliable enough yet.”

Developing cost-effective research

Trondheim, 2024: Two years have passed since the expedition to Svalbard. Mo-Bjørkelund has long since completed his studies at NTNU and has established his own underwater technology company with three other former NTNU students.

Norwegian SciTech News meets up with Sanna Majaneva over a quick coffee between busy sessions at NTNU University Museum’s laboratory in Trondheim.

She has used methods from genetics to find out which plants and animals were in the water samples from Kongsfjorden. However, identifying which organisms are present in the water is not straightforward, even if their DNA is found in the water samples.

“We use environmental DNA and genetic barcoding to identify phytoplankton, zooplankton and fish. Environmental DNA is an effective method for mapping biodiversity, but there are still many species that are not found in the DNA reference libraries,” says Majaneva.

Moreover, even if researchers find DNA from a particular species in a specific area, they cannot be certain that the organism lived precisely where they found it.

“It may also have been a fragment that floated down from further up in the water column,” Majaneva explains.

Constant pressure

She talks about the constant pressure to make environmental monitoring and biological research as cost-effective as possible.

The genetic methods save her from months of microscope work, but they still require development and leave many questions unanswered.

Mo-Bjørkelund’s underwater robots may also save biologists valuable time in the field.

“These type of robots will enable us to investigate several locations, at different depths, and study the effects of different currents. They will help us decide where the samples should be taken, or where we should locate the stations. Should we take water samples at a depth of 20 or 35 metres? After all, we can’t bring the entire water column on board. Maybe the robot can take water samples for us? Then we wouldn’t even need to be present. Expeditions are expensive,” says Majaneva.

The way forward

The Nansen Legacy project has now been completed, but work on developing autonomous underwater robots at NTNU continues.

“The ocean is constantly changing and we will never be able to measure everything all the time. In order to gain the best possible understanding of the ocean, we need to concentrate our efforts in the most interesting areas,” says Professor Martin Ludvigsen at the Department of Marine Technology.

The Harvest project is now testing how underwater vehicles can use sonar technology and particle cameras to calculate the concentration of zooplankton in the water column, while the Mascot project concentrates on the statistical methods that enable the robots to determine where and when measurements should be taken.

“Adaptive mapping using AUVs can give us much better insight into the dynamics of physical, biological and chemical processes in the ocean,” Ludvigsen says.

Majaneva believes that the Nansen Legacy project has demonstrated the importance of interdisciplinary collaboration.

“We need each other’s knowledge to see the big picture,” she said.

This article appears courtesy of Gemini.no and may be found in its original form here. 

Reference: Mo-Bjørkelund, Sanna Majaneva, Glaucia Moreira Fragoso, Geir Johnsen, Martin Ludvigsen: Multi-vehicle adaptive 3D mapping for targeted ocean sampling | PLOS ONE

 

The last two years has seen India take significant steps to spur the development of offshore wind energy. A notable milestone was the approval of the $821 million Viability Gap Funding (VGF) program back in June, intended to incentivize the development of the first 1 GW of offshore wind capacity. But India’s current levels of government support fall short in delivering the 37 GW offshore wind capacity goal by 2030, according to a report released last week.

The report by the International Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD) and the Center for Study of Science, Technology and Policy (CSTEP) found that the cost gap to make offshore wind competitive in India is still high, requiring sustained government subsidies and policy support. The offshore wind could take at least 12 years to reach the grid parity in India. The cost gap identifies how much the cost of clean power needs to drop to reach cost parity with conventional sources such as coal.

While the recent VGF scheme is an important development, the report claims that it may be insufficient given that the cost gap per GW of capacity is around $1.1 billion. Thus, to achieve the aspirational goal of 37 GW by 2030, the total cost gap is estimated at $61 billion, or $8.75 billion per year between 2024 and 2030.

“India’s clean energy ambition is remarkable, and delivering on these goals will require bold investments and policy alignment. Emerging technologies like offshore wind represent transformative opportunities for the country’s energy landscape but need sustained support to realize the potential,” said Swasti Raizada, Policy Advisor at IISD and co-author of the report.

In the view of the high cost gap in deploying offshore wind in India, the report recommends several policy options. This includes postponing the 2030 capacity goal to allow costs to fall, but not delay provision of support. The sooner India starts deployment, the sooner domestic costs will decline. Further, the government could consider a new model for pooling renewable energy, so that offshore wind is bundled with cheaper clean energy sources to create demand and secure off takers for initial projects. For instance, solar PV is already cheaper than new coal and gas installations in India.

Meanwhile, government support for the offshore wind sector extends to port infrastructure, strengthening the domestic supply chain. Recently, the government designated V.O. Chidambaranar (VOC) Port in Tamil Nadu as an offshore wind port. As a result, the port on Saturday announced it will construct a terminal for handling windmill blades and accessories. The terminal will feature two berths, with quay length of 370 meters.

 

[By Aaron Delano-Johnson and Myles McCarthy] 

Sporting the distinctive racing stripe worn by many of the globe’s coast guards, the world’s newest polar-capable research vessel left the protected waters of the Gerlache Strait behind as it prepared to cross the Southern Ocean after completing its maiden voyage to Antarctica earlier this year. This cutting-edge vessel was not from a NATO country, Russia, or China, but Colombia, as it set sail from its homeport of Cartagena joining the ranks of South American countries operating ice-capable vessels and research stations on the seventh continent. As the United States and its allies struggle to project surface presence in the high latitudes, the ARC Simon Bolivar (PO-151) joins Chilean icebreaker CNS Almirante Viel (AGB-46) as the second domestically built polar-capable vessel to be commissioned in South America in the last 12 months. If the United States is serious about building capacity to operate at-sea in the high latitudes, it is time to look south. 

The challenge of building high latitude maritime capacity 

The National Strategy for the Arctic Region calls to expand the “U.S. Coast Guard icebreaker fleet to support persistent presence in the U.S. Arctic and additional presence as needed in the European Arctic.” Likewise, United States Policy on the Antarctic Region also identifies the need to expand the United States polar icebreaker fleet to maintain an active and influential presence in the region to support United States interests across the Antarctic Treaty System. 

The struggles to meet either goal are well-documented with critiques of the U.S. Coast Guard’s current icebreaker fleet, Polar Security Cutter program, and the broader state of United States shipbuilding continually in the news. What is not addressed in this debate about icebreaker capacity at-sea is that once the United States polar icebreaker fleet is recapitalized through new construction, or commercially procured stop-gap options, who will operate and maintain these ships in the harshest of environments?

Partnerships with traditional Arctic allies are a natural fit to build knowledge, skills and abilities of high latitude operations, but with a dearth of opportunities onboard both United States and NATO vessels operating in the polar regions, where else should the U.S. Coast Guard and Navy turn to learn from those with these skills and platforms? Look south.

South America’s Efforts in Antarctica

Stories of the Arctic and Antarctic studied in the United States tend to focus on the achievements of polar explorers from Shackleton to Amundsen, Soviet nuclear icebreakers, the indigenous peoples of the Arctic or perhaps the U.S. Antarctic Program’s work at McMurdo Station. Few are aware of the high-latitude capacity possessed by nations across South America, the same countries who are the closest partners of the United States in countering transnational organized crime, operating in the joint naval domain, and addressing illegal, unregulated, and unreported fishing at sea.

Amongst them are upwards of 30 research stations, to include year-round presence at 12, a variety of aircraft launching from Chile and Argentina to support operations on Antarctica, and numerous icebreakers or polar research vessels by their navies or respective maritime services.

In a flurry of activity over recent years, the domestic construction or commercial procurement across South America’s polar fleet includes: Argentina will double its heavy icebreaker fleet with the construction of a second Polar Class 4 vessel set for the late 2020s to sail alongside ARA Almirante Irízar (Q-5), the Peruvian Navy commissioned the BAP Carrasco (BOP-171) Polar Class 7 oceanographic and research vessel (2017), the Colombian General Maritime Directorate’s (DIMAR) ARC Simon Bolivar (PO-151) Lloyd’s Register Ice Class 1C FS (2023), the Chilean CNS Almirante Viel (AGB-46) Polar Class 5 was commissioned in July, while the Brazilian Navy awaits delivery of its next-generation, and domestically built icebreaker, dubbed the Antarctic Support Ship expected to be launched in 2025. Finally, Uruguay procured the R/V Mount Whitney, an ice-strengthened research vessel re-flagged in September as the Oyarvide (ROU-22), to reinvigorate support for scientific investigation and logistics for its Antarctic operations.

Polar expertise can also be found ashore. The School of Marine Sciences of the Argentine Navy hosts the International Maritime Organization (IMO) certified courses of Basic and Advance Navigation in Polar Waters while their Chilean Navy counterparts at the Maritime Training and Instruction Center offer a similar Basic and Advanced Polar Water Operations Course. Both courses are requirements for senior officers serving on their nations’ respective Polar Icebreakers, and each routinely welcomes international students, principally from Europe. 

While the United States’ ongoing attempt to recapitalize the ice breaking fleet languishes with delays, it is clear that United States Allies, partners, and adversaries continue, with greater frequency, to put ships into the ice.

Icy Operations: How U.S. Forces Are Engaging the Polar South

Collaborating with South American partners allows the United States to take advantage of a simple fact of geography: when summer precludes cold weather training in the Northern Hemisphere, opportunities abound south of the equator.

Who has looked south to expand opportunities for gaining proficiency in extreme conditions? The U.S. Army’s storied 10th Mountain Division, the 1st Marine Division, U.S. Special Operations Command South, and U.S. Army Mountain Warfare School have all attend the Chilean Mountain Warfare School while U.S. Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center instructors have trained alongside the Argentinian Marines in Ushuaia practicing cold weather tactics and exchanging experiences. Likewise, troops from the Argentinian Mountain Warfare School and Chilean Marines have trained with their U.S. Army counterparts at the Northern Warfare Training Center and the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center. In addition to ongoing activities in Chile, recent key leader engagements with Argentina have advanced discussions on additional cold weather operations subject matter exchanges. 

The U.S. Coast Guard of course does have partnerships and conducts international engagements across the region from exercises to Security Cooperation. But for as much success as USCGC James’ had during its recent port visits along the east coast of South America as the ship conducted illegal, unreported, unregulated fishing operations in the South Atlantic, efforts by the U.S. to bolster polar cooperation in the region have been much more limited.

Most recently, while returning from their annual mission to re-supply McMurdo Station during the 2023 Antarctic season, USCGC Polar Star deviated from their normal trans-Pacific route to visit Punta Arenas and Valparaiso, Chile. These were the first visits to Chile by a U.S. Coast Guard cutter in over seven years and the first to Punta Arenas since 1987, and though the ship enjoyed a warm reception by their Chilean hosts including bilateral engagements, no repeat visit to the continent was made during the ship’s 2024 deployment. 

How to Build High Latitude Bench Strength at Sea

What would polar partnerships in South America offer to the U.S. Coast Guard and Navy? To begin, the need for added bench strength of operators with high latitude experience is real. Currently the U.S. Coast Guard’s high latitude efforts focus on preparing the heavy icebreaker USCGC Polar Star and medium icebreaker USCGC Healy for annual missions to Antarctica and the U.S. Arctic respectively. Healy and Polar Star represent the only two platforms in the United States’ combined fleet capable of training ice pilots, the essential qualification for operating ships in ice. On average, each qualifies just four to five new ice pilots a year, and given the rate of attrition in the U.S. Coast Guard’s Cutterman community, this leaves a very small candidate pool from which to fill current command cadre needs. And projected forward, this trajectory will leave the service critically short of the crews necessary for the nation’s envisioned future icebreaking fleet of Polar Security Cutters.

Since 2018 the U.S Coast Guard has looked to the Afloat Ice Breaking Training Program to help fill these gaps. However, the program is imperfect, and proposals to expand it are stymied by a critical factor: in an average year the United States only has one ship breaking international ice at a time, limiting space for trainees. So why not look to the rapidly expanding South American polar fleet for assistance? Precedent already exists for personnel exchanges in the region. Currently, the U.S. Navy has Surface Warfare Officers participating in two year exchange programs in Brazil, Colombia, Peru, Argentina, and Chile, with some calling to expand the program even wider. 

And personnel exchanges should work in both directions, as the U.S. Coast Guard can offer invitations to join icebreaking deployments to officers from South American countries in the same way these opportunities are currently extended to their NATO, Australian, and New Zealand counterparts. Similarly, the U.S. Navy’s Second Fleet recently concluded Operation Nanook, a Canadian led multinational exercise that while focused on the Arctic and NATO partnerships would certainly offer many lessons learned to South American nations with Antarctic interests. Put another way, polar officers need to know more than just the mechanics of how to operate a ship in ice, they need to understand the interests, ideology, and capabilities of all partner nations in the rapidly evolving high-latitudes. 

Potential opportunities to build bench strength are not just limited to expanding the Icebreaking Training Program. Junior officers aboard Healy and Polar Star could take advantage of their ships’ lengthy annual maintenance periods to seek temporary duty opportunities either aboard a ship or even by attending the aforementioned polar navigation courses in Argentina or Chile.

Finally, it takes herculean efforts in logistics to keep the aging U.S. icebreakers on mission. Forging mission support partnerships is often an afterthought that operational commanders scramble to expedite in times of crises. Establishing strategic logistics relationships with partner maritime services that can facilitate spare parts deliveries, conduct at highly capable shipyards across South America, and streamlined agreements for diplomatic clearances should all be a priority for engagement in the region. 

Conclusion

Afloat operations in the polar regions are fraught with risk. The United States needs to come to the region with not just capable ships, but with strong international partnerships and well-trained crews. With an icebreaking fleet that has historically relied upon on-the-job training to qualify the next generation of polar explorers, the U.S. Coast Guard’s “red hull” community currently struggles to support that model due to a lack of assets and opportunities with traditional partners. But polar force projection is of growing national significance, and the United States needs to look at the White Continent with a wide aperture lens. Logistics, memorandums of understanding, alliances, and certainly world-class ships and crews will all be essential in achieving future high latitude goals.

Aaron Delano-Johnson is an active duty officer in the U.S. Coast Guard. A ship captain and international affairs officer, he has served across Latin America and the Caribbean. 

Myles McCarthy is an active duty officer in the U.S. Coast Guard and an Olmsted Foundation Scholar completing a master’s degree at La Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile. A ship captain, he hopes to return to sea upon completion of his studies.

The views expressed are the author’s alone and do not reflect the official policy or position of the U.S. Coast Guard, U.S. Department of Defense, U.S. Department of Homeland Security, or the U.S. government.

This article appears courtesy of CIMSEC and may be found in its original form here. 

Throughout the campaign, Picozzi presented himself as a moderate, willing to work with Democrats in both the state and local government to accomplish legislative victories.

Throughout the campaign, Picozzi presented himself as a moderate, willing to work with Democrats in both the state and local government to accomplish legislative victories.

Sentences for driving under the influence dominated the Friday list of actions by Indiana County’s Common Pleas Court judges.

The Nennie Foundation, established in honor and memory of the late Jennifer Walker “Nennie” Myers, is now accepting applications for financial support for cancer patients.

ALLENTOWN, Pa .-Un hombre de Allentown acusado de un tiroteo en la ciudad recibió su condena. Dimitrius Campbell fue sentenciado a entre 15 y 30 años de prisión.

At a hearing Monday, a judge sentenced Dimitrius Bashir Campbell, 24, to serve 15 to 30 years in prison, according to a news release from the Lehigh County District Attorney's Office.

The DA's office says Liz Pacheco was arraigned Friday and is in Lehigh County Prison with no bail.

The NJ Attorney General’s Office is investigating a fatal vehicle accident that left a 20-year-old man dead, on October 18, 2024.