St Aquinas

From medieval metaphor to modern maritime tragedy, the life of Thomas Aquinas holds an interesting place in maritime history.

Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the towering Dominican theologian and philosopher, never set foot on a ship’s deck in any recorded voyage. His journeys—from his family castle near Aquino, Italy, to the universities of Paris, Cologne, and Naples—were made on foot, horseback, or by carriage across the roads of medieval Europe. Yet the “Angelic Doctor” left an indelible nautical imprint on Western thought through vivid seafaring metaphors that still resonate today. Centuries later, a passenger ferry bearing his name would live (and tragically end) a real nautical life on the waters of the Philippines, creating an unexpected modern chapter in his legacy.

Aquinas at Sea—in Words Alone

Aquinas frequently drew on the imagery of ships, captains, stars, and storms to explain profound truths about human purpose, risk, and divine guidance. Two examples stand out.

In his "Summa Theologica" (I-II, Q. 2, A. 5), he writes that the preservation of a ship is not its captain’s ultimate goal; the vessel exists to sail. A widely circulated (and slightly paraphrased) version of this idea has become a modern motivational staple:

“If the highest aim of a captain were to preserve his ship, he would keep it in port forever.”

The message is clear: safety at the expense of purpose is no life at all. To Aquinas, the Christian life—like any worthwhile voyage—requires leaving the harbor.

He also gave the world one of the most enduring titles for the Virgin Mary: "Stella Maris", “Star of the Sea.” In his commentary on the angelic salutation, Aquinas explained:

“Mary means Star of the sea, for as mariners are guided to port by the ocean star, so Christians attain to glory through Mary’s maternal intercession.”

For centuries, sailors have looked to Polaris or the Southern Cross; Aquinas invited believers to look to Mary as the celestial guide through the tempests of life.

These images were not casual flourishes. In an age when most people never traveled far from home, nautical language made abstract theology vivid and universal.

Carlo Crivelli’s 15th-century portrait of Saint Thomas Aquinas (National Gallery, London). The scholar who never sailed still taught the world how to navigate life.

A Ship Named in His Honor

In 2012, a 40-year-old roll-on/roll-off passenger ferry operating in the Philippines was renamed "MV St. Thomas Aquinas". Originally built in Japan in 1973 as the "Ferry Sumiyoshi" for the Osaka–Shin-moji route, the 139-meter (455 ft), 11,405-gross-ton vessel had already enjoyed a long career under several names.. Under 2GO Travel, she ran inter-island routes connecting Manila, Cebu, Iligan, Butuan, and Nasipit, carrying passengers, vehicles, and cargo across the archipelago’s busy sea lanes.

On the evening of August 16th, 2013, the "St. Thomas Aquinas" left Nasipit, Agusan del Norte, bound for Cebu City with 715 passengers (including 58 infants) and 116 crew. At approximately 9:00 p.m. local time, in the narrow Cebu Strait about 1.9 km (1.2 miles) off Talisay, she collided with the outbound cargo ship "MV Sulpicio Express Siete".

The impact tore a massive hole in the ferry’s starboard side. Power failed. Water flooded in rapidly. Within 30 minutes the 40-year-old vessel rolled and sank in ~90ft of water. Hundreds jumped into the dark, oil-slicked sea. Local fishermen, alerted by flares and screams, rushed to the scene in small boats. Over the following days, 733 people were rescued, but 108 bodies were recovered and 29 remained missing—making it one of the Philippines’ deadliest peacetime maritime disasters.

The wreck still lies in the Mactan Channel, a somber memorial to the perils of crowded sea lanes, aging ships, and the eternal truth Aquinas understood so well: every voyage carries risk.

A Legacy That Still Guides

Thomas Aquinas never commanded a vessel, yet his words have steered countless souls through life’s storms. The captain who refuses to leave port, the star that leads mariners home—these images remain as powerful today as they were in the 13th century.

And somewhere beneath the waters off Cebu, a ship that proudly bore his name rests as a silent reminder that even the most carefully charted voyages can end in tragedy. In that sense, the St. Thomas Aquinas lived the very metaphor its namesake taught: she left the safety of the harbor, served her purpose for decades, and ultimately sailed into eternity.

Whether guiding philosophers or ferry passengers, the nautical wisdom of Thomas Aquinas endures: set sail, trust the Star, and remember that the ship was made for the sea—not the other way around.