Kha Van has just a week in port.

In a few days, he has to have the ship, Capt. Millions III, its equipment and crew ready for its next three-week trip out into the Pacific to catch 'ahi.

But at least he gets to go home during that week, to his family, his wife and children, who live in the Kalihi area.

Four Filipino members of the six-man crew must spend their week ashore on deck. Fixing things. Watching DVDs or videotaped movies. Visiting other ships on nearby slips in the harbor.

Because of immigration rules, they aren't allowed to set foot on Nimitz Highway, walk the couple of blocks to a movie theater or pick up a plate lunch from Zippy's.

Danny Lumbera is fine with his line of demarcation, he says through an interpreter as the boat gently rocks in its berth. The

Filipino crewman just arrived from Lipa, Batangas, a town about 60 miles south of Manila.

He can call home from the nearby phone booth. Thank goodness for phone cards.

His boss speaks mostly Vietnamese, he speaks mostly Tagalog. They converse in broken English.

Inside the Capt. Millions III, Lumbera shows the air-conditioned cabin, with two crew quarters: Capt. Van shares his with another fellow, and the four crewmen have bunks in the other room. The large common room has a table and pillows; the nearby freezer is stocked with frozen pizza, ice cream and meat.

Oh, and fish.

The days at sea are difficult for both Van and Lumbera: They wake at 5 a.m. and start work by 6. They work until noon; then comes lunch and a siesta. By 4:30 p.m., they're back at work and will toil into the night, sometimes as late as 2 a.m.

But if it's a good haul, Lumbera gets extra money to send home to the Philippines, where his wife and two young sons, ages 3 and 5, still live. If he couldn't find a way to feed them, he might end up turning to a construction job, or worse, crime, he said.

He's signed up for a year. If he likes it, he might extend.

"It's all about the money," Lumbera said with a laugh.