by Jason Zuidema (ICMA)
At the recent Mission to Seafarers “Seafarers’ Welfare Conference” in Adelaide, one of the underlying themes was the value of volunteers. The conversation was not sentimental. It was practical, honest, and forward-looking. Missions to seafarers have long relied on volunteers, but the context in which volunteering takes place is shifting. Across plenary sessions and informal discussions, leaders returned again and again to the same conviction: without volunteers, much of this work simply does not happen.
Hamilton Calder, CEO of Volunteering SA & NT, framed the broader social landscape. “Volunteering has gone through a massive change, and COVID shone a light on that change,” he said. He noted that in the decade prior to the pandemic there had already been “about a 60% reduction in formal volunteering.” COVID intensified that decline, but it also brought attention to trends that had been developing for years. At the same time, informal and task-based volunteering has increased. The traditional model of reliable weekly roster volunteers—often retirees—can no longer be assumed. “You will need to be more inclusive. You will need to be more flexible,” Calder urged. Organisations must rethink roles, separate out compliance requirements according to real risk, and create pathways for both regular and one-off engagement. It is harder work, he acknowledged, but essential for long-term sustainability.
The Rev. Lance Lukin of the Mission to Seafarers in Wellington, New Zealand, brought the discussion back to its human core. Reflecting on his experience with crews, he said simply, “laughter helps people feel human.” In an environment where seafarers may experience fatigue, isolation, and pressure, humour and shared conversation restore dignity. Lukin insisted that infrastructure is not the primary asset of a centre. “The most valuable asset is not buildings, buses, wifi, etc. – people are the most important – volunteers, staff are the assets that are the most important – warmth, humour, stories and time – humanity.” In a world of metrics and outputs, his words were a reminder that seafarers’ welfare is profoundly relational. Volunteers embody presence.
Ian Keane, Director of Stella Maris in Port Adelaide, spoke with straightforward clarity. “We rely on volunteers,” he said. In his centre there are nineteen volunteers, and “none of us are paid.” The work runs because people give their time freely. Buses are driven. Shops are staffed. Welfare visits take place. The simplicity of his statement carried weight. Volunteers are not an add-on; they are the operational backbone.
From the funding perspective, Dennis Treleaven, Maritime Program Officer with the TK Foundation, encouraged organisations to recognise the tangible value volunteers bring. “Funders know that volunteers have real value – that is a matching fund,” he explained. Centres can legitimately state in grant applications that “our volunteers are providing this much in value.” Quantifying volunteer hours is not merely administrative detail. It demonstrates commitment, shared investment, and thoughtful planning. “It is worth considering – it shows that you have thought through the cost a little bit more.” Volunteers are not only a moral strength; they are also a financial and strategic asset.
The lived reality of volunteer impact was captured vividly in conversation with Janelle Gilmore, Board Secretary of the Gladstone Seafarers’ Centre. “Without volunteers in our centre, we would not be open,” she said. Volunteers drive buses, collect seafarers from vessels, sort and hang clothing, exchange currency, and accompany crews to shops so they can buy small comforts from home. She described a simple but powerful scene: when seafarers arrive, “some of them actually go out and take their shoes off and put their feet on grass… and they just sit there and just be one with the environment.” That moment of respite exists because a volunteer opened a door and drove a bus.
Yet Gilmore also named the challenge. “The nature of volunteers is changing, and it needs to be addressed, because it’s an older demographic, and once the older demographic move on, we’re not getting the younger volunteers coming through to fill the gaps.” Like many centres, they compete with sporting clubs and other community groups for the same limited pool. Recruitment and retention require creativity and intentionality.
What emerged in Adelaide was both realism and hope. The volunteer landscape is shifting. Compliance requirements are complex. Younger generations engage differently. But the core truth remains unchanged. Seafarers’ welfare is built on people—on warmth, humour, presence, and practical service. If missions can adapt their structures while preserving their humanity, volunteers will continue to be not only the backbone of operations, but the living heart of the ministry.