Photographing Container Ships: The Linchpin in the Global Supply Chain

Last month marked one year since the container ship Dali tragically struck and collapsed the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore on the night of March 26, 2024, causing shock and headlines around the world. The horrific disaster resulted in the death of six construction workers that night, damage to the vessel and its containers, and the closure of the port, disrupting East Coast shipping for months afterwards. It was the deadliest bridge collapse in the United States in more than a decade.

This tragedy was one of a series of high-profile events related to container ships during the previous few years – including the congestion and delays that plagued global ports during the COVID-19 pandemic, the blocking of the Suez Canal by the megaship Ever Given in 2021, and Houthi attacks on Red Sea commercial vessels beginning in 2023 – that reminded the public about the complexity and vastness of the global trade system as well as its vulnerabilities. Videos and photographs of massive container ships have come to symbolize the global economy in news broadcasts, including print and digital media. Most recently, the Trump administration’s controversial and volatile tariff policy has renewed attention on the fragility of the world economy and the indispensable role that container ships serve as the linchpin in the global supply chain.

I love to travel, and in 2010, I decided to see the world in a unique way: aboard a container ship. I wanted to learn more about the international shipping system that lies behind so much of what makes our 21st century economy possible and which we all depend on – yet about which we know so little. Indeed, about 90 percent of everything that we purchase was at some point shipped by sea. Yet, the world of cargo ships and ports seems so removed from the websites and store shelves where we find the products that we want. Also, at the time, I was in search of a travel experience that was enlightening and transformative and that afforded me ample time to meditate and reflect. I wanted something that was the farthest thing from my familiar sights and usual routine living in New York City. Cargo travel seemed to check all the boxes.

Life aboard a container ship is centered around the safety of the cargo and its seafarers. These are working vessels – not cruise ships – in which travelers take a backseat to the primary mission of the captain, officers, and crew; at the same time, this privileged vantage point allows travelers to get an up-close and rare view of how these remarkable vessels operate. Cargo travel requires flexibility, patience, and a curious and independent spirit. Passengers, therefore, have to find ways to entertain themselves: for example, by reading, writing, watching movies, exercising in the gym room, exploring the ship’s decks, visiting the ship’s bridge or engine room, and talking to the crew and officers present.

There is a freedom and sense of adventure that comes from exploring the world, far off the grid, in a way that most people will never experience. Looking out at the horizon, one is humbled by the beauty, power, and seeming boundlessness of the ocean. It’s not hard to feel a sense of connection with and awe of the countless mariners who braved the seas throughout history. At the same time, one has a new appreciation for the roughly 1.9 million men and women sailing around the world today far from home – usually for many months at a time – who, in the shadows of the global economy, help form the backbone of our interconnected world.

Using a travel agency specializing in cargo travel, I booked passage aboard the Hanjin Yantian, a nearly 1,000-foot-long container ship, in 2010. (Hanjin Shipping, the parent company and owner of the vessel, is no longer in business. The Korean company declared bankruptcy in 2017.) I flew to San Francisco, where I boarded the Yantian at the Port of Oakland, one of the busiest container ports in the United States. From Oakland, it sailed to Seattle – and then across the North Pacific in a downward arc through the Aleutian Islands and the waters just north of Japan, before arriving in Busan, South Korea where I disembarked. I was the sole passenger onboard during my leg of the ship’s voyage. After a couple of busy days docked in Busan, the Yantian continued its route to various ports in East Asia, delivering and loading goods before eventually returning to the U.S. only to start the loop again.

I was hooked. Enthralled by those 10 days aboard that floating behemoth, one trip wasn’t enough. I longed to be at sea again, and in 2017, I was fortunate to get the opportunity. This time, I traveled for 24 days aboard the CMA CGM Andromeda, which at 1,193 feet long is just a tad longer than the height of the Eiffel Tower. I booked passage on the classic Europe-to-Asia route with the French shipping company CMA CGM. The Andromeda sailed from northern France to the Mediterranean Sea, through the Suez Canal and Red Sea, to the Persian Gulf and across the Indian Ocean, to ports throughout East Asia – before repeating the route in reverse. I boarded the vessel at Malta Freeport, one of the busiest in Europe, and from there the Andromeda made scheduled port calls in Beirut, Lebanon; Jeddah, Saudi Arabia; Jebel Ali, United Arab Emirates; and Port Kelang, Malaysia where I disembarked. Only in Beirut and Jebel Ali were my fellow passengers and I able to leave the vessel and the container ports. After clearing passport control at the ports, we had about 12 hours to explore the Lebanese capital and Dubai while the crew worked busily to load and unload containers.

Looking back at the images that I took during my first container ship voyage in 2010, I’m reminded of how much I have grown as a photographer. Having taken up photography as a serious hobby only a couple of years prior, there was a lot that I still didn’t understand well, like which exposure settings work best in different situations, their impact on depth of field, and the importance of underexposing to preserve highlights. At the same time, photographing from a moving ship posed new and unfamiliar challenges that forced me to adapt to a dynamic and ever-changing environment. I was using the Nikon D80, my first interchangeable-lens camera and Nikon product, which I enjoyed immensely, inspiring me to remain a Nikon owner to this day.

I remember that when I stepped off the Yantian in Busan after traveling for 10 days, I was a bit disappointed, because I was finally beginning to feel comfortable onboard. I had gotten to know many of the sailors, for example, and I at last knew my way around the cavernous vessel. As a result of my 2010 sailing experience, when I went on the Andromeda seven years later, I had a better sense of what to expect, which made acclimating to life onboard more predictable – and thus, made documenting my trip much easier.

During my 24 days aboard the Andromeda, I was one of five passengers. All of us boarded the vessel in Malta, but I was the first to disembark. The others continued their voyage in East Asia, eventually getting off in Busan. It was protocol that we eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together at scheduled times each day. As guests, it was customary for us to eat with the captain and officers. The crew ate in a separate dining room. Aside from our meals, our time was our own – except for the occasional safety and fire drills. Despite this, my fellow passengers and I made a commitment to meet up once a day to watch a movie in the passenger recreation room. There was no Internet signal out at sea, so any movies or shows we watched were on DVD or had been downloaded in advance.

Aboard both the Yantian and the Andromeda, the seafarers organized a barbecue out on the deck of the ships. It was clear that the crew and officers really enjoyed this break from the daily grind. I learned from the crew – all of whom were Filipino – that barbecues are a popular way for those working onboard to socialize, relax, and have a bit of fun. On both of my trips, the all-Filipino crews (the captains and officers were European, hailing from Germany, Croatia, Montenegro, and Serbia, for example) also found pleasure in organizing karaoke game nights to unwind after their shifts had ended.

For decades, Filipinos have dominated the global shipping industry’s labor force. Filipino seaman can earn at least 10 times what they can at home, so a career at sea continues to be attractive despite enduring many difficult months away from family and home. Barbecues and karaoke game nights, therefore, serve in part to sustain the crew’s spirits by keeping them connected to Filipino culture and traditions.

A lot has happened in the shipping industry since 2017. One of the casualties of the pandemic is that the major shipping companies – with a few exceptions – stopped permitting passage to travelers. With so many high-profile incidents in recent years coupled with rising global instability, there is little incentive for shipowners to take on the additional liability of travelers. The consensus among cargo travel agencies is that it is unlikely that shipping companies will reverse their policy for the foreseeable future. This is sad and unfortunate. I’d sign up for another container ship voyage in a heartbeat.

Inspired in part by the industry’s moratorium on travelers, and also feeling nostalgic about my time at sea, I wanted to share my perspective into the little-understood world of commercial shipping, especially at this inflection point for the industry and the global economy. Cargo travel is a fascinating, life-changing experience for the adventurous – and for photographers, it is an enriching experience with a behind-the-scenes view of a world that most people will never see, yet to which our lives are intimately connected.

Duane Bailey-Castro is a New York City-based photographer, who specializes in urban landscape and travel photography. His long-term project has been documenting New York City’s Harlem River Bridges. To see more of his work, please check out his Instagram page and website.