This time, it was the ending that came first – 43 ships disappeared, and one ship surviving – Marinette, a small vessel under the Polish flag. Cutting through the Mediterranean like a ghost with hopes on board. Its intention? To bring aid to Gaza, a place where sunlight itself is resistance.
Somehow, Marinette became the last ship (in the water), and it did do so in the midst of chaos and gunfire of the extant conflict, as the last vessel of the Global Sumud Flotilla – a fleet of 44 humanitarian ships under attack by the Israeli military. The other 43 boats didn’t make it. The captain of Marinette is an Australian named Cameron and the crew of 6 are a mix of nationalities. Marinette is still making its slow (and still strong) attempt to take aid to the coast of Gaza.
We have a big, strong Turkish crew member, we have a woman from Oman, and we have myself. We will continue onward as instructed toward Gaza, Cameron said in a live video feed Thursday morning, October 2, 2025 while the sun streamed through the dawn light.
At 4 a.m. local time, a live video feed made its way around the world of Marinette sitting aprox. 43 nautical miles, or roughly 80 kilometers, from the territorial waters of Gaza. The interior of the cabin was dimly lit, with crew members gathered around navigation screens. They all looked tired but determined to will themselves onward. Marinette was coming from behind because of the ship’s engine problems, a mechanical relief that allowed Marinette to float and be alive to tell this story.
A Disregard for Law in International Waters
The bottom line is — none of it should have happened, period. The squadron of attacks took place in international waters, which remain not owned or controlled by legitimate governance. The non-ownership of international waters is founded on the principles of maritime law which states the sea beyond a country’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), typically 200 nautical miles from the coastline, is simply open and free for navigation. The attacks occurred well beyond the EEZ zone outlined by Israel, making it a one-hundred percent violation of maritime law.
Yet, none of this triggered a significant response from the global community. Instead, it was the same old sad chant – the condemnation of violations without meaningful accountability. The United Nations or other intergovernmental or human right organizations, and sometimes even meme accounts, were once again all reacting to the instances yet none resulted in significant accountability.
This is not new. In May 2010, an Israeli commando squad boarded yet another humanitarian ship – this time the Mavi Marmara – killing ten Turkish activists and resulting in yet another uproar around the world, which gradually—like waves crashing against a rock off the shore—flushed away, while the blockade remained.
From Hope to Habit
The Global Sumud Flotilla is now no longer aid but an endurance. Sumud means steadfastness in Arabic, a fitting word to describe an undertaking that is both improbable and necessary. Every voyage is both a plea for support and an indictment of the global community’s lack of acknowledgment.
Currently, the Marinette is moving across the map in real-time thanks to the Flotilla Tracker website — a living beat for those who still care enough to see. Where the little blob moves across the map, it means more than supplies. It reflects resistance to systemic impairment.
Waiting for the Ship That May Never Arrive
In Gaza, people wait. They have experienced aid ships before — some were intercepted, some sunk, some were simply turned around. But they still wait. Because, when you have lived under blockade for years, every rumor of help is a miracle worth believing.
Maybe Marinette won’t get to shore. Maybe it will. But it has already done an extraordinary thing — it has reaffirmed the world remains, even in a sea of politics and fear, that one boat can carry more courage than any navy.
And somewhere between the warnings and the waves, lies a simple truth: freedom may be blocked, but hope continues to sail.
