A local knitting ministry at St. James, Dundas, is offering warmth, dignity, and connection to seafarers who often remain unseen just beyond our shoreline.
During the pandemic, I started a short video series called Just Friday, a way of bringing voice to the good work quietly happening across our diocese. One week, that led me to the Mission to Seafarers. I remember thinking at the time: how did I not know about this?
I’d always been drawn to take notice of the ships in the harbour, yet I’d never thought much about the workers on board.
Through that first conversation with Judith Altree, I began to understand that Hamilton’s port is not just a place of industry but a point of arrival for thousands of seafarers each year. Seafarers spend months at sea, far from home and with limited ability to step freely onto land, even when docked.
Once that Just Friday video was shared, Sue Carson from Saint James, Dundas, had the same realization I did, but she took it a step further, shaping a small but powerful response. Parishioners began knitting toques, mittens, and scarves, exactly what is needed when crews arrive from warmer climates into a Southern Ontario winter. Over time, those items have been gathered and delivered into the hands of Dan Phannenhour, chaplain, who brings them directly to ships in port.
It is easy to underestimate what a pair of mittens can mean. But when you have been at sea for months, it becomes something more than practical. It becomes a gesture of recognition.
Recently, I had the chance to sit down with Alicia Hamming Navarrete, program manager (part-time) of The Mission to Seafarers Southern Ontario. Hamming Navarrete brings 15 years of missionary experience in Nicaragua, where she met her husband and raised her children before returning to Canada just ahead of the pandemic.
This work was not something she expected, but it has clearly taken hold. The Mission to Seafarers, she says, is “a ministry of hospitality where no seafarer is left behind… a place that aims to show seafarers that they are not alone and are deeply valued.”
Hamming Navarrete says, “Each year, over 500 ships arrive at the Port of Hamilton… Every ship is crewed by 15 to 25 seafarers who often work long hours and go without setting foot on shore for months. This can be isolating.”
That isolation is something Phannenhour encounters regularly as he boards ships with bags of chocolate, brochures, and other treats, offering conversation, care, and connection. Sometimes, that connection changes everything.
Hamming Navarrete shares the story of a young seafarer who had been at sea for close to nine months without seeing his family. The strain had taken a toll. What made the difference was simple but profound: a listening ear, a small care package, and access to Wi-Fi so he could see his family again. “John’s smile was priceless after seeing his family,” she writes—a reminder that even the smallest gestures can restore hope.
Hamilton’s port itself is also in a moment of change. Currently, a bulk port—handling materials like grain and fuel—new investments may soon introduce large-scale container shipping. This could significantly expand the port’s role in global trade.
What that will mean for seafarers remains to be seen, but whether ships carry grain or containers, one thing does not change: behind every shipment is a crew. And their need for care, connection, and dignity does not diminish with efficiency.
That is where this quiet, faithful ministry continues to matter.
It turns out you don’t have to cross an ocean to take part in a global ministry. Sometimes, it begins with a ball of wool, a pair of needles, and the simple decision to see someone you may never meet, but who will feel the warmth all the same.
If you would like to join this effort, please reach out to Alicia Hamming Navarrete, Program Manager, The Mission to Seafarers Southern Ontario, at [email protected] or visit mtsso.org.
Contemplation in Chaos