The sinking of M/V Trisha Kerstin 3 off the waters of Basilan, which claimed at least 40 lives, has once again exposed a painful truth Filipinos know too well: government action almost always comes after tragedy, never before it.
In the days following the disaster, decisive words finally surfaced. Bangsamoro officials pledged cooperation with national agencies. A draft resolution was filed to halt the operations of Aleson Shipping Lines, Inc. (ASL). Chief Minister Abdulraof Macacua ordered the enforcement of suspensions issued by the Department of Transportation and the Maritime Industry Authority. Legislative inquiries, psychological interventions, and promises of “closure” followed.
All of these are necessary. None of these are enough.
Because the real question is not whether ASL should be suspended now. The real question is: why was it allowed to operate for so long despite what many in the industry and in coastal communities already knew?
A System That Waits for Death
The Philippines has perfected a cruel cycle. Regulators inspect loosely—or not at all. Shipping companies with clear safety violations continue to sail. Complaints pile up quietly. Then a vessel sinks. Bodies are recovered. Mourning begins. Only then do agencies rush to suspend, investigate, and “review protocols.”
When the headlines fade, enforcement relaxes. Business resumes. And the cycle repeats.
This reactive governance is not accidental. It thrives in an ecosystem where money talks, political connections soften penalties, and corruption dulls regulatory teeth. Maritime safety laws already exist. Oversight agencies already have mandates. What is missing is the will to preemptively shut down danger, especially when powerful operators are involved.
Blocklisting Is Not Prevention
Stopping ASL’s operations is a step—but it is a blunt, belated one. Blocklisting after dozens are dead does not resurrect lives, nor does it address the deeper structural rot.
What the country needs is preemptive regulation, not post-mortem punishment:
- Mandatory, transparent, and publicly accessible safety audits of shipping companies
- Real-time vessel monitoring and passenger capacity verification
- Automatic suspension triggers for repeat violations—without discretion, without favors
- Whistleblower protection for maritime workers who report unsafe practices
- Independent oversight bodies insulated from political and commercial pressure
If violations are “already clear,” as they often are, then allowing ships to sail is not negligence—it is complicity.
Closure Must Mean Change
The Bangsamoro Parliament members who pushed for an inquiry are right to demand answers. The families of the victims deserve more than condolences and investigations “in aid of legislation.” They deserve proof that this will be the last time such negligence is tolerated.
Closure does not come from resolutions alone. It comes when passengers can board a vessel without gambling their lives, when regulators act before storms hit, and when companies know that safety violations will cost them immediately, not after a tragedy makes it politically inconvenient to look away.
How Many More?
Every maritime disaster forces us to ask the same question: How many more deaths before prevention becomes policy, not rhetoric?
If government agencies continue to act only after the sea has claimed its dead, then future tragedies are not accidents. They are the predictable outcome of a system that chooses convenience, profit, and silence over human life.
The sinking of M/V Trisha Kerstin 3 should not just end a company’s operations. It should end the culture of waiting for tragedy before doing what should have been done all along.