While most of the attention has been on the 18 Carnival Sunshine crew members recently deported by CBP from Norfolk, it looks like this wasn’t an isolated case.
We’ve now learned that 19 Royal Caribbean crew members were also deported back in April 2025 and under very similar and troubling circumstances.
One of them shared his experience:
I am a former crew member who worked for Royal Caribbean International. I am writing this with a heavy heart. I loved my job and gave it everything I had until the morning of April 6, 2025, at the port of Galveston, Texas.
At around 7 or 8 in the morning, after only a few hours of sleep, I was abruptly woken by loud knocks at my cabin door. When I opened it, there were six individuals — two ship security officers and four CBP (U.S. Customs and Border Protection) agents. They instructed me to hand over my wallet and mobile phone, and then told me to step out while they searched my cabin.
I asked, “Sir, what is the procedure for?” One of them responded, “You’re going to know later.” They took photos of the cabin, and then told me to face the wall, put my hands behind my back, and handcuffed me. Again, I asked what I had done, but the response remained the same: “You’ll know in a bit.” I was given no explanation, no rights read. I was escorted off the ship along with three other crew members, with photos being taken as we walked.
On the way to the detention facility, I was shaking — from fear, shame, and confusion. I was held for about seven hours, each of us monitored by a CBP officer. Finally, I was informed that my email address was allegedly linked to websites containing child pornographic material. The officer clarified that it didn’t mean I had visited such a site — it could have been a link received, clicked accidentally, or shared unknowingly.
I was stunned. I firmly stated and it was put into writing that I had never received, clicked, or shared such content. I told the officer: “Sir, I waited six years for this job. This is the biggest blessing of my life. I understand the seriousness of this law and would never risk the opportunity the U.S. government has given me.”
I asked if there was any physical evidence to support this allegation beyond an email address — something that could easily be compromised. The officer replied, “We are acting on intel from Washington. Once you're back home, raise the issue with Homeland Security. Maybe you can prove your innocence and return.”
At the end of this ordeal, my U.S. visa was marked ‘Cancelled with prejudice,’ which I later learned means it has been permanently revoked and cannot be reinstated.
To lose the job I worked so hard for over an unproven allegation is deeply unfair and humiliating. Even more painful is the damage done to my name and reputation. I want to state clearly: I am NOT guilty. This accusation goes against my values, my character, and my conscience. I am a brother and an uncle, and I would never be involved in such acts.
After being sent home, I paid for my own ticket and arrived in Manila on April 8. I immediately went to POEA-DMW for guidance and assistance.
But instead of help, my manning agency (RCM) offered nothing, no counseling, no support, not even acknowledgment of what happened. When I finally spoke with the crewing manager, I was met with what felt like sarcasm, not empathy.
To this day, I’ve received no clear information about my employment status, and no legal guidance. I committed no violation of company policy or U.S. law at least to the best of my knowledge and conscience.
The absence of proper support after such a traumatic event is a serious failure of duty by the agency.
This entire experience was terrifying and dehumanizing — something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Now, with all humility, I am asking for help. Any assistance that could help me appeal the case, or speak with someone from the U.S. Embassy, to clear my name and request a waiver of the visa revocation.
And I must add, this is not an isolated case. After the four of us were deported, 15 more Filipino crew members from Royal Caribbean were reportedly removed under similar circumstances.
Any help or attention to this growing issue would mean the world to us.
With respect,
These are hardworking individuals who dedicate their lives at sea, often spending months away from their families to provide a better future back home. Simply raising awareness about what’s happening to crew members like us is already a big help. Right now, all the attention is on the 18 Carnival crew members, but deportations are happening quietly across multiple ships and cruise lines.
Sharing our story isn’t just about seeking justice, it’s about starting a broader conversation and standing up for the rights of all seafarers who deserve fair treatment and due process.
We’ve now learned that 19 Royal Caribbean crew members were also deported back in April 2025 and under very similar and troubling circumstances.
One of them shared his experience:
I am a former crew member who worked for Royal Caribbean International. I am writing this with a heavy heart. I loved my job and gave it everything I had until the morning of April 6, 2025, at the port of Galveston, Texas.
At around 7 or 8 in the morning, after only a few hours of sleep, I was abruptly woken by loud knocks at my cabin door. When I opened it, there were six individuals — two ship security officers and four CBP (U.S. Customs and Border Protection) agents. They instructed me to hand over my wallet and mobile phone, and then told me to step out while they searched my cabin.
I asked, “Sir, what is the procedure for?” One of them responded, “You’re going to know later.” They took photos of the cabin, and then told me to face the wall, put my hands behind my back, and handcuffed me. Again, I asked what I had done, but the response remained the same: “You’ll know in a bit.” I was given no explanation, no rights read. I was escorted off the ship along with three other crew members, with photos being taken as we walked.
On the way to the detention facility, I was shaking — from fear, shame, and confusion. I was held for about seven hours, each of us monitored by a CBP officer. Finally, I was informed that my email address was allegedly linked to websites containing child pornographic material. The officer clarified that it didn’t mean I had visited such a site — it could have been a link received, clicked accidentally, or shared unknowingly.
I was stunned. I firmly stated and it was put into writing that I had never received, clicked, or shared such content. I told the officer: “Sir, I waited six years for this job. This is the biggest blessing of my life. I understand the seriousness of this law and would never risk the opportunity the U.S. government has given me.”
I asked if there was any physical evidence to support this allegation beyond an email address — something that could easily be compromised. The officer replied, “We are acting on intel from Washington. Once you're back home, raise the issue with Homeland Security. Maybe you can prove your innocence and return.”
At the end of this ordeal, my U.S. visa was marked ‘Cancelled with prejudice,’ which I later learned means it has been permanently revoked and cannot be reinstated.
To lose the job I worked so hard for over an unproven allegation is deeply unfair and humiliating. Even more painful is the damage done to my name and reputation. I want to state clearly: I am NOT guilty. This accusation goes against my values, my character, and my conscience. I am a brother and an uncle, and I would never be involved in such acts.
After being sent home, I paid for my own ticket and arrived in Manila on April 8. I immediately went to POEA-DMW for guidance and assistance.
But instead of help, my manning agency (RCM) offered nothing, no counseling, no support, not even acknowledgment of what happened. When I finally spoke with the crewing manager, I was met with what felt like sarcasm, not empathy.
To this day, I’ve received no clear information about my employment status, and no legal guidance. I committed no violation of company policy or U.S. law at least to the best of my knowledge and conscience.
The absence of proper support after such a traumatic event is a serious failure of duty by the agency.
This entire experience was terrifying and dehumanizing — something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Now, with all humility, I am asking for help. Any assistance that could help me appeal the case, or speak with someone from the U.S. Embassy, to clear my name and request a waiver of the visa revocation.
And I must add, this is not an isolated case. After the four of us were deported, 15 more Filipino crew members from Royal Caribbean were reportedly removed under similar circumstances.
Any help or attention to this growing issue would mean the world to us.
With respect,
These are hardworking individuals who dedicate their lives at sea, often spending months away from their families to provide a better future back home. Simply raising awareness about what’s happening to crew members like us is already a big help. Right now, all the attention is on the 18 Carnival crew members, but deportations are happening quietly across multiple ships and cruise lines.
Sharing our story isn’t just about seeking justice, it’s about starting a broader conversation and standing up for the rights of all seafarers who deserve fair treatment and due process.
