Three nights a week, the Rev. Jerry Saludez takes a group of volunteers to either Pier 17 or Pier 36 to provide a home-cooked meal, Bible study and medical checkups to fishermen from foreign countries who are confined to the docks.

The fishermen are the subjects of a complaint filed this month with the Inter-­American Human Rights Commission to determine whether the U.S. is complicit in the abuse of those who catch bigeye and yellowfin tuna (ahi) for the lucrative seafood industry.

But Saludez, whose Waipio Community Baptist Church started its Seafarers Ministry three years ago, said he was “very surprised” to learn of complaints about abuse, human trafficking and slavery reported by The Associated Press in September. The men are mainly from the Philippines, Indonesia and Vietnam, and “we’re like family to these guys,” Saludez said, adding, “We never heard them complain about salary or anything else.”

Most of the fishermen are Filipino, and the pastor speaks several dialects, while some of the 30 volunteers speak Indonesian or Vietnamese.

Some members of the church congregation have actually been relatives of the confined fishermen, visiting them while their boats were docked adjacent to the Pier 38 auction market, Saludez said. “That’s how I got the idea (for the ministry).”

Over the last few months, the ministry also has started going to Pier 17 on Thursday nights.

The AP reported that several hundred longline fishermen from impoverished nations are confined to Hawaii boats because they have no documentation to enter the U.S. The fishermen are paid as little as 70 cents per hour, work 20-hour shifts at times when fish are biting, and suffer inhumane working conditions, the AP reported. Though no human trafficking was found, the fishing industry and government officials have since taken steps to oversee working conditions.

For the past 13 months on Tuesday and Friday nights, premedical student volunteers organized by Dr. Craig Nakatsuka, a retired Kaiser Permanente physician, have been going to the piers to offer treatment to the men.

“I have not seen evidence of overt abuse, though there have been isolated reports of cuts or other injuries sustained at sea which the captains have been slow to get the fishermen care for,” Nakatsuka said. “The larger issue is intimidation: Although it is rare, there have been instances where captains have commanded the fishermen not to attend our clinic under the misperception that we were spies who would report abuses.

“But by and large, the majority of ship captains have been very good to their crew, recognizing that in order to maintain efficiencies regarding fish catches, it would be in their best interests to keep the fishermen healthy,” he said. “From the fishermen’s standpoint, though, they are fearful that if they report significant injuries or problems, that they will simply be deported back to their home country and thus lose their opportunity to gain a better financial situation through the fishing,” Nakatsuka added.

Saludez said by Hawaii minimum wage standards, what the men are paid is “so small that it’s exploitative.” Back in the Philippines, however, the value of the dollar is multiplied, and they are able to buy houses and improve their families’ lifestyle, said Saludez, who along with his wife, Stella, has visited with four of the fishermen’s families in the Philippines.

The men are at sea for about three weeks at a time on two- or three-year contracts, according to Saludez. The American-owned fishing boats dock in Hawaii for three to five days. Without visas or green cards, the crewmen are not allowed to set foot on American soil, even temporarily (unless for emergency medical care). “They cannot go out or shop for things,” like clothing or toiletries, so every night the volunteers bring whatever clothing or other articles the fishermen request, Saludez said.

Saludez said he even grows certain vegetables Filipino fishermen are fond of but can’t get on board the ships. He’s provided 138 mobile phone lines to fishermen who want to stay in touch with their families. “They don’t have a credit card. I sign out for them but that’s a risk I take.” So far, he said, no one has failed to pay back their monthly service fees.

“Now we are friends, we are family, that’s why we adopt them,” said Saludez. “I’ve never done a ministry with such joy in my heart. I just talk stories with them, I’ll listen, I’ll counsel, I’ll pray with them for safety and a good catch, (and) about their concerns for their families.”

In a recent interview by the Honolulu Star-­Advertiser, fisherman Danny Salandron said he had lost two children to cancer, and his wife was also afflicted by the disease over a year ago. He talked about being able to leave the pier before more restrictive immigration policies went into effect after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

When he started fishing in 1994, he said, he didn’t have a cellphone to talk to his wife, and he would be lucky to get a letter once a month. Salandron said as he has gotten older, the years of hard work have caused him joint pain and knee problems but that his health is fine.

Genie Smith, a longtime volunteer from Waipio Baptist, said she has known Salandron for more than two years, and “we’ve become so close,” adding, “His faith is strong.” She said she cooks Filipino dishes like pork adobo and Salandron’s favorite, pinak bet (mixed vegetables), when he’s confined to the pier.

“They just call us mom, uncle, auntie — it’s just like we are all like family here. We hug them, we ask, ‘How was your catch? We say, ‘Go check on your blood pressure.’”

Solomon Daguasi said he was a farmer before becoming a fisherman and finds the work a lot harder than he expected, but “it’s OK.” The Miss Emma, the vessel he works on, is “small but comfortable. Yeah, I’m happy. I miss my family but it’s OK. It’s a job for them, for their future. … I came here for the education of my children.” His eldest, 19, will be able to go to college, Daguasi added.

Volunteer Jo Ann Chow, who emigrated from Vietnam in the 1970s, acts as an interpreter. Her son Christopher is one of the 15 premedical students from the University of Hawaii on Nakatsuka’s team. Other parents have come down, too, and some are Vietnamese “boat people” who fled persecution and can identify with the sacrifices the fishermen are making to benefit their families, Chow said.

Nakatsuka, a Protestant, said when he first started, the ministry was only allowed to set up right next to the boats. “We were right on the dock. There was no lighting, no walls, no exam tables or benches— there was zero, just concrete,” Nakatsuka said. Only in the last few months have the fishermen been allowed to come to the grassy area near Pier 36. Pointing to all the equipment now in use, he said it has all been donated, along with the medicine, which is supplied by a pharmacy funded by the Shiraki Memorial Foundation.