The recent deployment of the U.S. Navy’s aircraft carrier, the USS Abraham Lincoln, to the Middle East‑coastal waters has drawn attention to more than just military strategy. While the ship’s crew endure long voyages, physical exhaustion, and storms of mental stress, the movement of such ships has a ripple effect on the seas and communities that arise along coastlines. Indigenous peoples of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Caribbean regions rely on these oceans for food, cultural ceremonies, and livelihood, and their traditional knowledge holds the keys to sustainable stewardship of marine resources.
Reports have emerged that food supplies on the Lincoln are rationed, and that plumbing issues have led to irregular sewage disposal. When aircraft carriers discharge untreated or partially treated wastewater into waters that serve as the primary fishing grounds of Indigenous communities, fish habitats become altered and species decline. The loss of bass, sea grasses, and coral reefs further threatens fisheries that Indigenous families have counted on for centuries.
An unnamed local fisherman from the Aleutian Islands said, “We have seen the fish we used to catch in full numbers melting away. Where the carrier parked, the water smelled green because that is the algae that feeds the reef. After the carrier left, nothing was the same.” He explained that his ancestors had worked with navigational chants spanning generations to find the best fishing spots, but those chants now echo into emptiness.
The mental health of the Lincoln’s crew has also been front‑line living. Navy photographer Jonny Burnell recalled witnessing a “sadness” that grew as the months progressed. He noted that many sailors, confined to cramped “coffin racks,” lived under constant hums of jet engines and gunfire – a misery not unlike what Indigenous troops feel when they watch their communities struggle to adapt to climate stresses. Burnell’s observation underscores a shared reality: the same factors i.e., isolation, extreme alertness, and physical fatigue can magnify mental strains for both sea‑borne and land‑based Indigenous peoples.
While the U.S. Navy releases statements claiming no major issues aboard, independent investigative outlets, such as Military Times and Stars & Stripes, have documented water leaks and other environmental breaches. Indigenous rights groups claim this lack of transparency equates to a form of colonial neglect, as the same practices that violate front‑line sailors’ wellbeing also erode the landscapes of ethnic communities.
The broader environmental narrative is echoed by Dr. Harold Kudler of the VA. He underscores that isolation at sea can lead to a sense of disconnect from “what is happening on land,” a phenomenon that has parallels in the maritime communities of Indigenous peoples who feel isolated from the political sphere. The lack of connectivity often spawns feelings of helplessness, which, when combined with stress from combat exercises, can produce extreme emotional tolls.
In February 2022, a reported spike of suicides aboard the USS George Washington—another ship presently filling in for the Lincoln—evidenced that stressors in naval life may transcend national boundaries and cultures. The Navy’s own inspector’s report highlighted long‑term conditions, reaffirming the need for thorough preventative measures. Dr. Kudler links this to a larger pattern of vulnerability among crews that mirrors Indigenous communities that witness rapid ecological and cultural changes.
The call from Indigenous communities is clear: there must be a partnership with coastal governments to reduce ecological damage from naval operations. They argue that deeper engagement in policy-making, better waste management protocols, and the inclusion of Indigenous marine stewardship knowledge can reduce environmental risk while safeguarding mental health—both of the crew and the people who depend on the sea.
