FEAR of being killed, rather than merely caught in the crossfire, is prompting experienced officers to refuse Black Sea assignments as attacks on merchant shipping intensify, raising concerns over crewing standards and the future viability of trade into the region.
For more than four years of war in and around the Black Sea, merchant seafarers have accepted a degree of risk as part of the job. Missiles, mines and drones posed a threat, but many captains believed that the ships themselves — rather than the people on board — remained the primary targets.
That assumption is beginning to crumble.
A growing number of masters are now refusing voyages involving Russia or Ukraine, convinced that attacks are increasingly aimed at areas of ships where crews live and work. Several senior officers told Lloyd’s List they fear for their lives and no longer regard the Black Sea as a manageable commercial risk.
“For a while now, when I have a job offer to go to the Black Sea, I refuse it,” said Ozgur, a Turkish master working for one of the country’s largest shipping companies. “If the operator tells me to change course and go to a Ukrainian or Russian port in the Black Sea, I ask to leave the vessel at the Bosporus.”
The shift in sentiment follows a sharp deterioration in security conditions in recent weeks. Ukrainian commanders have claimed hundreds of strikes against vessels linked to Russian trade, while shipowners serving Ukrainian ports have also become increasingly cautious.
Last week, Ukrainian agricultural minister Taras Vysotskyi said shipowners had effectively suspended calls to Ukraine’s Black Sea ports. Container line Maersk subsequently confirmed it was suspending services through Chornomorsk and rerouting cargo through Romania’s port of Constanta.
For seafarers still sailing in the region, however, the concerns go beyond commercial disruption.
Never return
One tanker master, whose vessel was allegedly attacked shortly after departing a Russian port carrying naphtha, said the experience convinced him he would never return.
“Two hours after we left the Russian port, we were attacked by three armed UAVs and a drone,” he said. “Two of the UAVs directly targeted crew accommodation areas.”
The captain requested anonymity because of concerns about his safety and future employment. He described how he identified the approaching drones on radar and ordered the crew into a protected area designated before the voyage.
“Only I stayed on the bridge,” he said. “That is why nobody got hurt.”
The incident left him questioning whether money alone could persuade qualified officers to continue accepting such assignments.
“I have been doing this job for more than 20 years,” he said. “When they try to hire seafarers by offering more money, will the people accepting be experienced enough to operate in a war zone? I doubt it.”
That concern is echoed by other masters, who argue that increasing bonuses may attract crews willing to take greater risks but not necessarily those best equipped to manage them.
The industry has long debated whether a chronic shortage of seafarers exists. One crewing executive said owners operating in high-risk trades would still be able to find personnel if salaries rose sufficiently.
“If an owner is willing to pay double, they will find people,” the insider said. “There is no shortage of seafarers struggling to find work.”
But captains contend the issue is not simply one of numbers.
According to Ozgur, experienced officers are increasingly opting out of Black Sea voyages altogether, forcing operators to cast a wider net. The danger, he argues, is that commercial incentives begin to outweigh considerations of competence and risk management.
“There will be a visible change in the quality of work on board,” he said.
The unease extends beyond the immediate war zone. Although Ozgur avoids the Black Sea entirely, he still calls at Russian ports in the Pacific and fears the conflict’s reach is expanding.
“They know where our ship has traded in the past,” he said of Russian authorities. “They investigate everything. After this conversation, I will delete all records of our call.”
Such fears highlight how geopolitical tensions are increasingly following seafarers beyond individual voyages.
Compounding the issue are allegations that crews are sometimes committed to high-risk voyages without their full consent. Masters described instances where vessels initially bound for relatively low-risk destinations such as Romania or Georgia were redirected to Russian or Ukrainian ports after transiting the Bosporus, leaving officers with little practical opportunity to disembark.
“When we ask to leave the vessel at the Bosporus, they tell us we must compensate the company for its losses,” Ozgur claimed. “People are also afraid they will lose future employment.”
Lack insurance
Turkish maritime lawyer and consultant Captain Deha Aydin said such demands have no legal basis and advised seafarers to leave vessels before entering high-risk waters if they felt unsafe.
“We tell them they do not have to go into those zones,” he said. “They should not be paying money or risking their contracts.”
Aydin believes the commercial structure behind some Black Sea trades is adding to crews’ vulnerability. He argues that vessels operating in the highest-risk sectors increasingly lack comprehensive insurance cover, while operators often use single-purpose companies that are difficult to pursue after an incident.
“When there is an attack or casualty, seafarers often cannot find anyone to claim against,” he said. “We now have many cases waiting in court.”
For masters still willing to sail, the message is increasingly stark. The distinction between a dangerous shipping route and an active battlefield is disappearing.
“The whole Black Sea should be considered a war-like zone,” said the captain whose vessel survived last week’s attack.
For many of his peers, that conclusion has already been reached. The question now is whether enough experienced seafarers remain willing to take the voyage.
