The rainy saison
Last week, the world’s fish geek community converged on a frigid, misty Paris to form the 2010 Seafood Summit, an annual event organized by the Seafood Choices Alliance and designed to facilitate discussion about the current state of the seafood industry and the future of our planet’s fish. Over 600 representatives of industry, academia, the environmental movement, government agencies, and intergovernmental bodies came together to exchange ideas, intelligence, and insults while firmly ensconced in a Parisian conference hotel.
A wide swath of topics was covered by a diverse medley of panels and presentations over the three days of the summit. Fisheries were analyzed, certification schemes were compared and contrasted, and environmentalists sparred with industry hardliners. Through it all, gossip ricocheted down the corridors of the conference center, partnerships were forged in the fires of crisis, and luminaries rained wisdom down on a parched audience.
Fortunately for seekers like myself, the conference was blessed by the attendance of the most illustrious group of aquatic icons since the cast reunion of Finding Nemo.
Pauly pulls no punches, people
Dr. Daniel Pauly, preeminent fisheries scientist at the University of British Columbia, opened the event with a keynote speech that magnificently wove candor, charisma, and the statistical equivalent of howitzer fire together to illustrate the grave state of our oceans. He pulled no punches. Notable quotes from the address include: “Ladies and gentlemen, there is no such thing as a sustainable trawler,” “[Carnivorous] aquaculture is robbing Pedro to pay Paul,” and my personal favorite, “You are all too fat! You don’t need to eat so much protein!”
The peaceful yin to Pauly’s blood-and-thunder yang came at the end of the summit in a gentle, supportive, and passionate closing speech by Julie Packard, the executive director of the Monterey Bay Aquarium and a chairman of the ocean-worshipping Packard Foundation. Packard’s words helped to sooth nerves rubbed raw by the energy and fervor that had electrified the Summit. Eco-freaks, ocean plunderers, and everyone in between sat in silence during the address, thankful for the clarity and the solace in Packard’s words.
Clover combats culinary catastrophe
Charles Clover, author of The End of the Line and one of the planet’s most valiant defenders of the bluefin tuna, brought his mission to the Summit as he engaged in any number of discussions with key figures from the industry, academia, and the environmental movement. His unique ability to meld the twin facets of his personality — “dashing eco-warrior” and “stodgy old tory” — into a surprisingly charming duality worked wonders as he promoted his newest venture, the environmentally-oriented restaurant review website fish2fork.
There were a number of themes that influenced the general direction of discussion. Target’s decision to eliminate farmed salmon was a major focus of discussion, as was the progress being made in France towards the inclusion of Northern bluefin tuna under CITES Appendix 1. The was a great deal of interest in the emergence of new and lesser-known fisheries, such as salmon runs in the Russian Far East, and there were some powerful discussions comparing and contrasting various sustainable seafood “approval” schemes and certification systems — this proliferation of rankings, stickers, and seals is clearly one of the most important issues facing the industry today.
While some of the same old baggage was trucked in yet again — I found myself in yet another hard-headed shouting match with a salmon farmer, for example — there was actually a great deal of progress visible at this year’s summit. People were actually discussing real issues. An entire day was devoted to tuna, and while some of the weaker industry-WWF collaborations (such as the Marine Stewardship Council and the International Seafood Sustainability Foundation) did receive an inordinate share of unjustified back-slapping, there was some positive, reality-oriented talk as well. No one stood up to defend ICCAT during the discussion on bluefin stock management, for example. One can only hope that those days are over.
A light in the darkness
As we move forward into 2010, I am optimistic and full of hope. There was a genuine, palpable desire for change rippling through the attending body at the Summit. Our patience for the plausible (and implausible) denial of the changes our planet and our oceans are undergoing seems to be at its end. I sincerely believe that if we work together and challenge old, broken paradigms without fear, we will be able to capitalize on this desire for change, and rebuild the seafood industry into something that works.
Tags: 2010, alliance, aquaculture, bluefin, choices, CITES, clover, conference, fish2fork, greenpeace, ICCAT, issf, monterey, msc, nemo, packard, panel, paris, pauly, seafood, summit, target, UBC, WWF
Days gone by
It’s been quite a year.
As the last few heartbeats of the year 2009 fade away, it is natural to take stock of how far we have come. It’s important to recognize our victories, as well as to isolate and examine our shortcomings. After all, there’s certainly no need to make the same mistakes again in 2010.
I’m also happy to say that it was Sustainable Sushi‘s first birthday at some point in the last few weeks. Over this past year, this website has afforded me with the opportunity not only to explore many fascinating issues, but to discuss them with people commenting from all across the globe. It has been a wonderful experience, and I thank you all so very much for helping to make it happen.
So, 2009: a tumultuous year by any standard. The oceans have had a tough time of it, but in other ways, we’ve achieved more than we could have possibly hoped for.
There have been times over the past twelve months when things have seemed bleak. It is beyond debate that the oceans took some major blows this year, and some of the ominous clouds on the horizon have grown even darker:
At the same time, we’ve seen some incredible successes this year. All across the planet, people stood up for the oceans, bringing their passion for a better planet with them as they cooked, shopped, wrote, worked and marched:
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Unwanted attention
The End of the Line, a documentary on overfishing and the state of the world’s oceans, was released. This led to increased pressure on Nobu restaurant to discontinue the sale of endangered Northern bluefin. This momentum manifest in celebrity petitions, dozens of articles in trade and mainstream press, and a Greenpeace campaign.
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It's finally over
The Cove, a shocking documentary about the Taiji dolphin slaughter, was released worldwide. Broome, Australia, discontinued its sister-city relationship with Taiji over the fiasco. Taiji has temporarily halted its dolphin drive, but other communities in Japan continue to hunt dolphins. The Cove has even been nominated for an Academy Award for “Best Documentary.”
- 2009 marked the first year in a world beyond the grindadrap: the annual Faeroese pilot whale drive that had caused much consternation among environmentalists. In response to warnings by their chief medical advisors, the Faeroese practice of slaughtering pilot whales and distributing the meat throughout the community was halted permanently in November of 2008.
The majority of these positive changes are part of a greater pattern: an accelerating increase in our overall awareness of the problems faced by our oceans. Movies, magazine articles, and activist campaigns have brought the health of our fisheries to the headlines and to the tips of our tongues. The amount of conversations we are having at coffee shops, in grocery stores, and around backyard barbecues about seafood sustainability and environmentally responsible fish consumption has never been higher – and rising faster than ever before.
Stand and fight
Yes, it’s true that the bluefin tuna is in dire straits. It is true that eel poaching continues unabated, that bottom trawlers still prowl the seas, and that we are on pace to empty the oceans of all seafood in less than forty years. Still, as menacing as these threats are, they are not the most important issues at hand.
The single most powerful and meaningful thing that happened to our oceans this year is that we truly began to wake up to the truth of what we are doing to our planet. We are more aware. We are more alert. And we are much more energized and focused.
Hundreds of new ocean activists are standing up every day to make a difference. Maybe they write a check, or they buy a different kind of fish, or they have a conversation with a chef or grocer. Maybe they simply have coffee with a good friend and spread the word. It doesn’t matter – it all helps. Every day we come closer to achieving critical mass, a fully realized awareness that will mobilize our true potential to save our oceans.
A brave new world
So let’s make 2010 the year that we redouble our efforts. It is time to capitalize on our momentum and push even harder, accomplish even more for the sake of planet and our future. There is still a tremendous amount of work to do, but make no mistake: we are stronger than the forces that would hold us back. And on those particularly gloomy days, when bad news comes crashing down and the future looks insurmountably bleak, just remember: you are not alone. We’re all in this together – you, me, and the millions of other people that are out there fighting every single day, working to make this world a better place for all of us.
Take heart — we are winning.
Tags: 2009, 2010, birthday, bluefin, borg, bottom trawl, copenhagen, cove, eel, greenpeace, grindadrap, ICCAT, japan, jellyfish, mashiko, monaco, new year, sarkozy, skipjack, sustainable sushi, tahiti, target, time, WCPFC, wegmans, whole foods, WWF
Battlestar Impractica
Last week, the black-hulled Nisshin Maru, public enemy number one of ocean worshipers around the globe, steamed out of an oddly quiet Japanese harbor. While traditionally its departure has been the cause of much revelry in the local port of Inoshima, this year saw no fanfare, no sendoff ceremony, no parades – just a shame-steeped ship, skulking southward, bound for the icy waters of the Southern Ocean.
Yes, it’s that wonderful time of year again, the season when the Japanese whaling fleet descends upon the Antarctic whale sanctuary and slaughters hundreds of peaceful cetaceans in the name of research. The scientific papers drawing from this annual festival of brutality are not publicly released, but the Japanese government is unequivocal in stating that these mysterious and inconclusive studies are a more than valid reason to massacre over a thousand whales each year. It is odd, however, that no other country engaging in cetacean research seems to need to butcher these animals in order to learn about their habits, behavior, social networks, and physiology. Strange.
Ouch
Anyhow, the Nisshin Maru and its sidekick fleet of spotter boats and kill ships return to the Antarctic every year to revisit their dubious mission of butchering whales in the name of science. These ships were designed for one purpose, and one purpose only — the wholesale destruction of cetacean life. The Nisshin Maru in particular is equipped with all facilities necessary to completely disassemble a perfectly functional minke, humpback, or fin whale.
Once the whale has been speared with an explosive harpoon by one of the kill ships, it is transferred to the Nisshin, whereupon it is hauled up onto the deck. A team of specialists eviscerates the whale right then and there, all the while holding up signs with asinine messages like “We are conducting scientific research,” just in case there’s a Greenpeace or Sea Shepherd helicopter around.
Don't worry -- they're scientists
The whalers transform the carcass into hundreds of bricks of whale meat, which are then frozen in a specially designed refrigeration unit. The ship rinses and repeats, and when it has fulfilled its quota, it transports its illicit gains over seven thousand miles of ocean, from the Antarctic coast back to Japan. Minus the infinitesimal percentage claimed by the scientific research program, the whale meat is either sold on the open market or purchased and held in deep storage by various appendages of the Japanese government.
It’s difficult for many Americans, Australians, and Europeans to not see whaling as an inherently evil activity. Numerous western cultures have a sort of reverence for these gentle giants. We admire their playful, intelligent nature, and spend our hard-earned dollars to head out to sea in little skiffs in the hope of seeing one or two whales breach nearby, sending small geysers of mucus and salt water skyward as they break the surface.
Why are you picking on me?
Still, it’s important to realize that this respect for whales is both cultural and recent. The United States was a major whaling nation up until the early 20th century, and some would argue that just because we Americans have some new-found appreciation for these animals doesn’t mean that there’s any kind of intrinsic reason why a whale merits more consideration than, say, a hagfish.
It’s in this spirit of equality that many Japanese, as well as numerous residents of other whaling nations such as Iceland and Norway, see these animals. There’s nothing special about a whale that disqualifies it from being dinner. What is the difference, one might ask, between a whale and some big fish?
I mean, well, yeah, sure, they’ve got lungs, and a complex evolutionary history, and an intricate social network… oh, and faculties for speech and song, and a larger cranial capacity than humans, and even a fourth cerebral lobe that’s unique to cetaceans, the purpose of which we haven’t even begun to understand… but besides all that, what’s the difference?
So bear with me for a moment and let’s assume that there is no inherent reason why whales merit more respect than any other life-form. Is that reason enough let the Japanese whaling industry off the hook?
Maybe if I have a half-off sale...
Well, no. See, we still have to contend with the fact that whale meat has been falling out of favor in Japan for decades, and that the government uses tax revenue to subsidize not only its production, but the consumption of whale meat as well. Moreover, Tokyo has been implicated in any number of vote-buying scandals at the International Whaling Commission, which has caused even more humiliation for the Japanese leadership. So why do they do it? The scientific excuse is as bogus as they come, and even the strict economic argument makes no sense when the losses are put alongside the gains. What’s the reasoning here?
The fact is that behind the sham of scientific research and beyond the crude excuse of simple profit lies a deeper truth, a miasma of old neuroses and insecurities that bedevil anti-whaling efforts and lash the albatross of this anachronistic industry to the necks of the Japanese leadership. The awful truth of the matter is that whaling has virtually nothing to do with whales. In fact, whaling is more about all the other animals swimming in the ocean – especially tuna.
Mouths to feed
We’ve already established that a fishing nation may or may not discriminate between whales and fish based on its cultural value system. If said nation does not do so, then a whale is, for all intents and purposes, a very big fish. With that in mind, consider the following:
Japan is an extremely densely populated island nation, with nearly 200 million people in an area the size of the state of California. It has little arable land and traditionally takes the lion’s share of its protein from the ocean. Japan is also wealthy nation with a strong middle class, as well as the world’s largest consumer of seafood per capita. A tremendous amount of Japanese GDP is reliant on the seafood industry due to unflagging consumer demand. As such, Japanese companies must be able to access oceanic resources with as little interference as possible.
Without a cultural reason to discriminate between whales and fish, Japanese leadership can easily interpret multinational opposition to whaling as a precursor to similar efforts that would address other, more valuable (and more endangered) species – such as bluefin tuna. The Japanese bluefin tuna complex is a massive global enterprise worth billions of dollars, and it dwarfs the whaling industry by orders of magnitude.
A whale-heavy Diet
Efforts to protect or manage whale stocks are therefore seen as the ominous foreshadowing of a world where Japanese fleets wouldn’t necessarily be free to ransack the oceans as they pleased. This idyllic vision is, of course, anathema to the policymakers in Tokyo.
Add this to the fact that the men in power (and it is men, overwhelmingly) in the Diet are the same who spent their formative years in the unfortunate era just after World War II where food security really was an issue in Japan. People were starving in the streets; Japan’s infrastructure and traditional social networks had been eradicated by the twin tragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was at this point that the American occupational force introduced large-scale whaling to the Japanese as a manner of providing protein to the hungry. Whale meat was used in school lunches, government meal programs, and other subsidized institutions. One could argue that at the time, the consumption of whale meat actually helped to beat back starvation and to invigorate a populace that was in the grip of malnutrition.
But that was then. This is now, and the Japanese are healthy and wealthy. Whales aren’t important anymore. The principles of sovereignty and food security, however, still are.
Thou shalt not cross
So a line is drawn in the sand. The Japanese government will fight the battle here, with whales, so no precedent is set for tuna, or for eel, or for crabs and urchin. Never again shall Japan face the humiliation of starvation, and never shall the outside world again be allowed to interfere with Japan’s sovereign right to exploit the oceans in order to feed its people. And if a few whales have to die in order to protect this status quo, well, so be it. Right?
Wrong.
This is unacceptable. Whales are dying, and I’m not objecting because I think whales are special, or because I think that the Japanese need to be more like Americans, or anything like that. This is not a racial issue, so anyone who’s planning to come at me with some bogus “you’re a racist” argument, just give it up right now. It’s a contrived, tangential distraction, and you know it. (Seriously. I’m a sushi blogger, for God’s sake.)
It's over
No, I object because these whales are being slaughtered simply to fuel a political pissing contest that has nothing to do with them. They don’t die in the name of science, or cultural preservation, or even the dollar and the yen. No, these whales die to appease a small group of powerful old men, riddled with insecurities, whose fear of economic disenfranchisement and aversion to political humiliation is apparently more important than the lives of these magnificent animals. They die so the Japanese government can continue to deny the fact that if we’re all going to live on this planet, and if we’re going to save the ocean, we’re going to have to work together.
End whaling now.
Tags: antarctica, bluefin, diet, fin, flensing, food security, greenpeace, hagfish, harpoon, humpback, inoshima, international whaling commission, iwc, japan, maru, minke, nisshin maru, Norway, sanctuary, Science and Rankings, sea shepherd, sovereignty, united states, whale, whaling, world war, yushin
This article continues from a previous post.
Come together, right now... under me
So another week has passed, and life aboard the Esperanza goes on relatively unchanged. The air is muggy and heavy, tempered only by an ephemeral breeze, weak to the point of being almost imaginary. The furious equatorial sun rises above the bow and slices the bridge open in the morning, spends the day beating its chest high in the sky, and finally tires itself out, slipping astern, red and exhausted beneath the indigo sea.
We still press on eastward, slowly gobbling up the massive distance between us and our final port, keeping watch for the purse seiners that ply these waters. We also have daily watches that consist of various crew members staring at the sea, searching desperately for fish aggregating devices (FADs) — small rafts or buoys used by skipjack seiners that draw many different kinds of fish together, causing the bycatch problems that brought us out to the middle of the Pacific Ocean in the first place.
The problem is, we haven’t been able to find any of these things. At least, not until a few days ago.
Ghost ship
On Wednesday night, a blip appeared on the Esperanza radar screen. It was over twenty miles out, moving quickly, and in completely the wrong direction, so direct confrontation was out of the question. Still, we were able to raise the ship on the radio. A short conversation confirmed that we had indeed found a purse seine vessel. It was steaming northwest, off to find FADs that it had deposited earlier.
Since we were not going to be able to intercept it, we elected to use some subterfuge. Without disclosing who we were, we mined the seiner’s radio operator for information. A cordial discussion yielded some excellent direction about where we could go to “find some fish,” and where a “private vessel” such as ourselves could reasonably expect to find “productive fishing grounds.”
We cross-referenced the information we got from the seiner with our charts. Everything was matching up — climactic anomalies, plankton blooms, underwater topography — and it all highlighted one particular area as a potential magnet for neighborhood skipjack poachers. Luckily, this target zone was directly on our course, about a week away at full steam.
Aww.. you say such nice things
At present, we’re only about three days away. The crew is energetic, and standard watches on the bridge have been augmented with volunteer labor by officers and deckhands that are eager to see some action. We’ve seen increased signs of life as well in recent days, with pods of spinner dolphins cavorting off the bow and innumerable birds circling off the foredeck. Flying fish continue to provide a beautiful distraction, especially when entire shoals of the delicate little creatures rise from the waves in unison, hundreds of glimmering pairs of wings stretched akimbo, tiny shining bodies gliding effortlessly into the air as the ship splits the water just behind them.
More next week. At the risk of being overconfident, I’m quite certain that I’ll have something more substantial to report by the time next Monday rolls around.
This article continues in a subsequent post.
Tags: bycatch, dolphin, ecuador, esperanza, FAD, flying fish, greenpeace, IUU, katsuo, pacific, plankton, radar, seamount, seine, seiner, skipjack, tuna
... and all the boards did shrink
This article continues from a previous post.
Ahoy there. Apologies, but I don’t have much to report.
For the last week, the Esperanza has been steaming through the Doldrums, a notorious latitudinal band of weak currents and unpredictable weather that straddles the Equator, reaching from about 5°N to 5°S. Historically, sailing ships dreaded entering this nefarious swath of ocean for fear that they would be becalmed – that the wind would suddenly die, leaving the crew to languish in the unrepentant equatorial sun, baking in their bunks and making no progress. Ships would roast in the Doldrums for weeks at a time, where the heat and hopelessness would incite disease, madness, and mutiny.
So all hail the modern age, where internal combustion assures that such a fate shall no longer befall an intrepid group of seafarers daring to traverse the Equator. Still, the presence of an engine changes neither the terrain nor the weather. Indeed, we may be moving, but for all intents and purposes, we are not. Each morning brings a sunrise that is a carbon-copy of the one previous, the tiny yellow eye of the tropical sky burning with fever, floating up from waves that are indistinguishable from those which we have watched glide by again and again, day after day.
Water, water everywhere
Although we keep a constant watch both to port and starboard, not one FAD has been located over the past week. Not a ship has been glimpsed on the horizon, nor has a single flicker of life and movement cast its green-lit ghost upon our radar screen. The Esperanza trudges resolutely along, utterly alone, hunting its phantom quarry in the untellable vastness of the Pacific.
Still, we do not lose hope, and morale remains high. All of our information suggests that we are moving into the thick of the seining grounds. Indeed, as each day passes, it becomes more likely that we will encounter our target.
Born free
We also take heart in knowing that our inability to locate a fishing fleet is not for lack of prey. There are shoals of flying fish constantly taking to wing along the bow, and we’ve even seen skipjack tuna – the very fish whose dilemma has brought us here in the first place – launching skyward from the waves in an effort to snag their winged meals from the air. Pilot whales, too, have graced us with their presence on more than one occasion. It’s nice to be noticed.
In truth, everything is proceeding apace, minus the fact that we really haven’t yet had the chance to do much in terms of accomplishing our mission and documenting the actions of these seiners. That will change, however — and soon.
Rest assured that I will report when I have something to report. Until then, please remember to enjoy all those things that land-based life has to offer — for the lot of us.
This article continues in a subsequent post.
Tags: doldrum, equator, esperanza, FAD, Fishing and Farming, flying fish, greenpeace, IUU, pilot whale, purse seine, seine, skipjack, tahiti
Who's number one?
Believe it or not, the most popular tuna in the world is not the noble bluefin. It is not the formidable yellowfin, nor is it the rocket-powered albacore. Believe it or not, the most popular tuna is in the world is a small, maroon-fleshed bullet of a fish that is not even in the same genus as the aforementioned three musketeers. I’m speaking, of course, of the humble katsuwonus pelamis – the skipjack tuna.
That would be me
Even though it’s exceedingly rare to encounter skipjack tuna in a white-tablecloth restaurant, and even though you and I will probably never see at skipjack fillets at our local grocery store seafood counter, this fish is king when it comes to tuna sales. If you were to total up all the tuna yanked out of the oceans in a single year, the majority of that mammoth catch would be composed of skipjack. So if it’s not in the back kitchens of our restaurants, and it’s not lying atop the crushed ice beds our seafood merchants’ display cases, where is it?
As delicious as skipjack can be — anyone who has had a properly prepared katsuo tataki knows exactly what I mean — the vast majority of the world’s skipjack ends up ignominiously smashed into bits, flash-cooked into oblivion, and sealed in a can. Canned skipjack tends to be a unpalatable, low-value product that relies on cheap production methods. If it is to turn a profit, it must be produced in a manner that is excruciatingly effective (just as a thermonuclear strike is an effective way of, say, unclogging a sink drain.)
Purse seine: circle of death
To this end, skipjack tuna is caught almost exclusively through the use of industrial purse seiners. A purse seine is a type of net which, like its eponymous accessory, is basically a goodie bag with a closing mechanism. Purse seine nets are dropped into the water and maneuvered around a school of fish, and then a drawstring is pulled which closes the net and draws it tight around its catch. The fish are compressed together, and the unfortunate animals along the sides are sliced to ribbons by the taut ropes of the net. As the catch is hauled out of the water in a tight silvery ball, the seine net literally rains blood.
The main issue that we are facing when it comes to purse seining is the use of something called a fish aggregating device (FAD). FADs are floating objects that are thrown into the water in order to provide structure and shade in the open ocean. They can be anything that floats and provides shade — from sophisticated mega-buoys with sonar and radio capabilities to half-rotten doors plucked from garbage heaps behind ramshackle fishing villages.
Fish magnet
Small fish are attracted to FADs, and they in turn attract larger fish, which attract larger fish, and so on. FADs are popular among purse seiners because they concentrate fish into a small area. Having all the fish together in one place decreases the amount of effort necessary for a given ship to capture its quarry.
Unfortunately, FADs don’t only attract tuna. Many other animals are also attracted to the shade and the presence of forage fish. Because of this, purse seiners that use FADs tend to incur much higher levels of bycatch than their non-FAD counterparts. Tuna seiners employing FADs regularly haul up immature yellowfin and bigeye tuna, sharks, marine mammals, and other unfortunate animals caught in their nets. Only the tiniest fraction of these non-target organisms survive the grisly, gore-soaked process of being caught in a purse seine net.
Industrial purse seiners are causing tremendous problems for the health of the ocean. Not only is the fishing capacity of these rapacious behemoths beyond the productivity potential of the targeted skipjack populations, but they slaughter hundreds of thousands of other animals in the process through the use of FADs. If we are to offer some respite to these creatures, we must forbid the use of FADs in the world’s oceans. To put it simply — this carnage must be stopped. Unfortunately, this all takes places in the middle of the open ocean, thousands of miles from prying eyes.
Rainbow warriors
In order convince the relevant policy-making bodies (national governments, international management bodies, etc) that FADs must be banned, we must have thorough documentation of their devastating impact. With that in mind, the captain and crew of Greenpeace’s Esperanza is plying the waters of the Eastern Pacific Ocean in an effort to confront these purse seiners and gather proof of their actions.
And I’ve been lucky enough to be asked to come along.
I will be joining the Esperanza as the on-board campaigner for this tour. I fly to Tahiti tomorrow to meet the ship, and will be at sea until early December. The ship is fully internet capable, and I will endeavor to provide regular updates in addition to my standard sushi-related blogging. So please keep checking back; hopefully I’ll have some good stories for you.
This FAD must end
I haven’t been to sea for any significant length of time for over three years, and I’m a bit nervous… but this is a fantastic opportunity and a worthy cause. After writing so many blog entries and articles about the plight of the world’s tuna, this is a welcome chance to give my pen a rest and get back in the action. The battle against FADs is tremendously important, and I’m truly flattered to be given this opportunity to spend some time on the front lines.
I’ll send pictures.
This article continues in a subsequent post.
Tags: aggregate, aggregating, bluefin, canned tuna, esperanza, FAD, greenpeace, purse seine, seine, skipjack, tahiti, yellowfin
In an absolutely heartbreaking turn of events, the European Union has decided not to support Monaco’s proposal to award the northern bluefin tuna the protections of CITES Appendix I.
I am gutted.
A continental disappointment
Even though a majority of countries within the EU – specifically those of Northern Europe, Scandinavia, and the British Isles – voted to co-sponsor, an uncompromising and hostile block of Mediterranean countries were able to defeat the process. Because of convoluted EU law, these southern countries were able to demonstrate enough dissent within the Union that the mighty juggernaut of European bureaucracy creaked to a halt.
While 21 European nations seemed ready to support the ban, the unceasing whine generated by six short-sighted members – Spain, France, Italy, Malta, Greece, and Cyprus – was able to derail the process. Without EU backing for Monaco’s proposal, it becomes increasingly unlikely that the bluefin tuna will find succor. Rather, it will probably fall back under the domain of ICCAT – the very organization through whose lack of potency this magnificent fish has found itself in such dire straits.
This is not progress.
Want to point the finger at someone in particular? No problem. This nauseating story boasts two particularly villainous figures.
Environmental enemy #1: Joe Borg
It's all about the euros
Joe Borg, Maltese, is the EU Commissioner of Fisheries and Maritime Affairs. Though his political savvy, the bluefin tuna mafia of Malta, Italy, and the rest of the Mediterranean was able to accomplish its shockingly myopic goal of keeping this fishery open. It’s probably not necessary to be reminded that northern bluefin tuna populations have crashed to such a level that, if current fishing trends continue, they will be commercially extinct within two years. Someone please explain to me why countries that depend on fishing for their livelihood would strive to eliminate the very lifeblood of their economy through an unabashed short-term cash grab?
Environmental enemy #2: Nicolas Sarkozy
Bye bye bluefin
Remember all that nice stuff I said about Sarkozy a couple months ago? I take it all back. France’s first citizen has proven himself the worst type of turncoat; a traitor to his people and his planet. France was the first country to step forward and support Prince Grimaldi’s proposal, but in recent weeks, Sarkozy has reversed his position and allied with the Mediterranean states. If France had not switched camps, the proposal would have most likely been endorsed by the EU. From a certain perspective, the actions of one individual may have doomed the world’s largest bony fish to an ignominious demise.
Want to tell Sarkozy what you think of his actions? Send him this letter. It’s in French — here’s an English translation, courtesy of Greenpeace UK.
Fortunately, all is not lost. We can still save this animal – but yes, it is going to be more difficult that in otherwise would have been.
First of all, there is a chance that Europe will reverse its position. Lobbying efforts are underway in France and other key countries, and if the balance of power can be swung away from the Mediterranean, the European Commission may vote in favor of the proposal after all. Unfortunately, we most likely won’t know how this will fall out until early next year. So, in the interim, Monaco’s proposal needs a new champion.
Crimes against nature
There is a meeting in Brazil in November that will revisit this issue. Before it kicks off, we need to convince the government of a major world power to take a stand on this – and frankly, the best candidate is the United States. If we can get Washington to step up, we can still save the bluefin tuna from extinction.
We’re gaining momentum here in the States. The Coastal Conservation Association, a major recreational fishing association, has taken up the banner and is pushing to have Northern bluefin listed under CITES Appendix I. President Obama’s Ocean Taskforce is traveling about the country holding open hearings on ocean issues, and the administration seems receptive to the idea of pushing this issue and creating marine reserves in the Gulf of Mexico to protect the bluefin spawning grounds. And numerous environmental groups and activists soldier on, waving the flag and shouting to the rooftops.
Dying for a miracle
Please, spread the word and get involved. If we can create a groundswell of support, we can regain momentum.
Tell your friends and co-workers about this critical issue. Support Greenpeace’s actions in France and help us get Paris back on track. Avoid sushi restaurants like Nobu that serve endangered bluefin tuna. Most importantly – don’t give up on this amazing animal just yet. We can still turn things around.
Tags: bluefin, borg, cca, coastal conservation association, cyprus, environmental enemy, eu, european union, extinct, france, greece, greenpeace, italy, letter, malta, monaco, nobu, northern, obama, overfishing, sarkozy, spain, vote, washington
Apologies for the delayed update; the week managed to get away from me.
Getting an earful
The fourth meeting of the Pangasius Aquaculture Dialogue (PAD4) transpired much like its predecessors, at least in my experience. While the stakeholder representation was diverse and thoroughly sampled many different sectors involved in the Southeast Asian catfish farming industry, the double-whammy of a grueling agenda and our reliance on consecutive translation rather than simultaneous managed to impede our work early on. While much of what needed to be discussed was indeed brought to the floor, many of the critical subjects at hand were not explored as thoroughly as they deserved. Aside from this, however, the meeting was actually quite productive.
It’s interesting to be involved in this process; to see the sausage-making that goes on inside the box of certification development. The attractive thing about the PAD is that its structure, like that of the other Aquaculture Dialogues, truly does endeavor to make that box as transparent as possible. In fact, that is the primary reason why I believe that this process may actually succeed.
Yeah, but what does it mean?
Much of the criticism of other aquaculture certification groups, such as the Global Aquaculture Alliance (GAA) and GlobalGAP, is based on the fact that during the formative stages of these institutions, neither transparency nor full stakeholder participation was emphasized. Many environmental groups challenge these standards on this principle. If neither the reasons nor the process behind a given set of benchmarks are open to examination, how can one truly buy into the idea that a certification is indeed a marker of sustainability?
Over the last few PAD meetings, I’ve been privileged enough not just to participate and have my say on how I feel the standards should be set, but also to be able to interact with other stakeholders whom I may never have met otherwise. It’s not every day that someone like me, a Greenpeace Campaigner, gets to sit down with thoughtful, articulate representatives of feed companies, major retail operations, and production facilities, and talk shop over duty-free scotch or a cold mangosteen smoothie.
The active word in this whole process is “dialogue,” after all (forgive the archaic spelling). It’s a chance to not just have one’s say, but to listen to others as well, and hopefully to emerge from the process with not just another line item crossed off one’s agenda, but with a deeper and more multi-dimensional understanding of the issues at large. To be perfectly honest, when I first came to the PAD two years ago, I was demanding standards and benchmarks that were based in part on simple ignorance. I’ve learned a great deal from the other people within the PAD – from the small-scale Vietnamese farmers to the French importers, and from my supposed enemies among big business to my quotidian contemporaries within the environmental movement.
Sure was simpler with the Smog Monster
No, I don’t think everything emerging from the PAD is perfect. There are still some nascent standards (especially regarding the feed chain, chemical use, and water pollution issues) that must be tightened up – and trust me, I’m not letting it go without a fight. But in spite of this, I marvel at how much I haven’t had to fight for, and at how many times we’ve all really wanted the same thing.
Environmental sanctity. Animal welfare. Social justice. A healthy, productive Mekong Delta, and a prosperous population dwelling within it. There is no arch-villain opposing these ideals, scheming in his underground lair as to how to best ravage the environment and enslave the local populace. Instead, there’s a diverse group of individuals with a surprising amount of commonality amongst their goals and ethics… and who all happen to have an inexplicable fascination with all things catfish.
Let's not get carried away here...!
I’ve found myself energized by what the PAD theoretically stands for — the idea that, in order to save this planet and heal our oceans, we must work together. We environmentalists must check our pride at the door and work hand-in-glove with those same forces that we had once dismissed, belittled, and demonized. This kind of unity can straddle cultural and political divisions, and can forge new pacts between erstwhile foes. It is a truly powerful force, and just maybe, it can help to forge a better world for all of us.
Tags: aquaculture, catfish, certification, dialog, dialogue, gaa, globalgap, greenpeace, industry, mekong, pad, pad4, pangasius, standard, vietnam
On Friday the 19th, I was invited to participate in a short Q&A session directly following the release of The End of the Line, a new documentary about the state of our oceans, at a movie theater in the East Village.
Even though Greenpeace has been engaging in rigorous cross-promotional efforts with the producers of this film, including campaigning against Nobu restaurant and taking to the water to expose the repugnant activities of bluefin tuna pirates, this was the first time I actually saw the movie in its entirety… and I’m now more convinced than ever that it merits our unconditional support.
The End of the Line is a masterful work that details one man’s crusade to save our world’s oceans. The author and subject of the documentary, Charles Clover, found his love of the ocean as many of us do: at the end of a line.
While fishing in Wales, Clover snagged a very lonely salmon – a salmon that turned out to be the last one ever caught in that river. Overfishing, rampant development, pollution, and habitat loss have combined forces to annihilate a population that once made annual pilgrimages to the Welsh highlands.
After witnessing the melancholy fade-out of this salmon run, Clover began to ask that simple question that so many of us are struggling so mightily to ignore: Why are our fish disappearing? His quest to find an answer became an odyssey that took him from Senegal to Tokyo and a thousand points in between.
You should see my older brother
The movie is replete with dazzling imagery; shots of Almadraba, a traditional bluefin tuna hunt undertaken by Spanish fishermen in the Strait of Gibraltar capture the true vitality and power of this regal animal. During the sequence, I overheard a woman in front of me convey her astonishment over the bluefin’s massive size to her companion in hushed expletives.
The irony is that the bluefin pictured in The End of the Line aren’t large at all… maybe 150 pounds. Just a short decade or two ago, there still were bluefin swimming about that had reached sizes closer to their true potential – upwards of 600 pounds. That’s three or four times larger than the “massive” fish in the movie.
Our baselines have shifted. Aside from the wrinkled old seadogs that haunt the docks of towns like Gloucester, MA, no one remembers a truly gargantuan bluefin. No one remembers that there used to be alligators in Chesapeake Bay. No one remembers the true nature of a healthy ocean.
"When I was your age..."
A number of aging fishermen appear throughout the film, underscoring this issue by weaving an old salts’s lament into the story. With their greybeard perspective and sun-stroked skin, these old men of the sea decry the waste and rapacity of the modern fishing industry, citing our rampant overfishing as a glaring example of today’s generation cutting its own throat in search of a quick dollar.
Near the conclusion of the film, an unnamed woman sums up the problem when she smiles into the camera and candidly delivers the line, “I like to eat fish. To me, fish are food.”
Fish food
Those who have read some of my previous articles and blog entries on this subject know that I do not necessarily dispute this statement. I don’t have a problem with the concept of a human being feeding on a fish. The problem arises with the strange assumption that once an animal is relegated to the status of “food,” it no longer merits any kind of respectful treatment. It does not deserve to be treated as a living thing; rather, it exists for the lone purpose of one day graduating to the status of fish finger, salmon burger, or 2-piece nigiri plate.
Speaking to this issue (albeit somewhat indirectly) is Dr. Daniel Pauly, a UBC professor who is prominently featured throughout the movie. Pauly is one of the most well-known fisheries scientists in the world. He speaks at conferences and symposia in cities across the globe. The particularities of his theories are often disputed within academia, but no one would deny the man’s brilliance and devotion to the planet.
At one point during the film, Pauly offers a frighteningly simple answer to Clover’s overarching question about the fate of the world’s fish. When Clover asks, “Where are the fish going?, Pauly responds, “We are eating them!”
- ALL YOUR FISH ARE BELONG TO US
Fish may be food to some, but that does not mean that they are not still fish first and foremost, living organisms with which humans have a delicate and complex relationship. This relationship is being abused to a terrifying extreme. Factory trawlers, dynamite fishers, bluefin tuna pirates, absurdly greedy corporations (et tu, Mitsubishi?) and corrupt politicians have stretched the ability of our oceans to nurture healthy fish populations to the breaking point.
I beseech all those who read this message to make a point of seeing The End of the Line as soon as possible. It depicts the reality of the state of our oceans better than this blog ever could.
Tags: almadraba, baseline, bluefin, charles, clover, end, end of the line, film, gibraltar, gloucester, greenpeace, line, mitsubishi, movie, nobu, ocean, overfishing, pauly, pirate, salmon, wales
Anyone who has listened to the radio, watched television, read a newspaper, surfed the internet, or chased after celebrity gossip in the past couple of weeks has likely heard about something about a particular sushi chain getting called out for a history of nefarious behavior.
The chain in question in Nobu, the fantastically successful joint venture of renowned chef Nobu Matsuhisa, the Raging Bull himself Robert De Niro, and three other partners. Nobu is a sushi giant, with twenty-four locations that dot the most chic neighboorhoods of many of the world’s most glamourous cities, and a menu replete with dozens of price tags that would make the average recession-choked American both green with envy and red with rage.
Countdown to extinction
Nobu is under siege from all sides for its continual disregard for the health of our planet. The high-end chain sells a tremendous amount of bluefin tuna, much of which is critically endangered Northern bluefin (Thunnus thynnus) from the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea. Despite repeated warnings about the looming commercial extinction of this majestic fish from a vast international amalgamation of scientists, actors, conservation organizations, foodies, bloggers, aquaria, filmmakers, and even a European Prince, Nobu resolutely presses forward, offering no comment and refusing to alter its menu in the slightest. The restaurant’s response is akin to a tantrum-throwing child clapping his hands over his ears while stomping his feet, or perhaps to a yoked horse charging towards a cliff regardless of its own life or the lives of those in the stagecoach attached to it. Nobu’s arrogant denial of the reality of our mutual challenge — the continual decline of the health of our oceans — is a serious problem.
Not in my ocean: Elle MacPhearson is one of the many celebrities boycotting Nobu
But this is not about just one restaurant. Nobu is a symbol; it represents the old guard of restaurateurs whose lofty perches often distance them from the plebeian masses. Moreover, Nobu is a rallying point — as an endangered species-slinging, celebrity-owned, stratospherically-priced haunt for the upper crust, it’s a perfect target for those who are itching for a greater level of corporate responsibility within the restaurant industry.
For those of you who are not yet aware, I have recently accepted the position of Senior Markets Campaigner for one of my favorite conservation organizations, Greenpeace. This does not indicate the convergence of Greenpeace and www.sustainablesushi.net, which remains an independent forum – but the arrangement allows me to work with a large group of passionate individuals towards the greater goal of a healthy planet. One of the ways that we can reach this goal is through the reformation of the sushi industry, and there’s no better way to accomplish this than to get some high-level trendsetters on board. Enter Nobu.
Nobu has already been “outed” on their unsustainable practices (this interaction is featured in the forthcoming documentary The End of the Line, based on the excellent book by Charles Clover). Nobu promised to label bluefin as an endangered species on all of their menus, but subsequently changed tactics and cut off communications. The one menu that reflects any change whatsoever is at the London branch, which uses a microscopic footnote to indicate that bluefin is “environmentally challenged.” This thunderous understatement aside, Nobu has done absolutely nothing to protect that very fish which has so heavily contributed to the jingling pockets of the restaurant’s owners. Our oceans cannot endure this situation any longer. Enter Greenpeace.
I am not a fan of direct confrontation. I view it as an avenue of last resort, only to be used when all other tactics have been exhausted. In this case, Nobu has been stonewalling environmental entreaty for over a year while the chain contiunues to plunder the ocean for its own insatiable greed. To expose and spotlight this edacious behavior, John Hocevar, Greenpeace’s Oceans Campaign Director, developed a mock Nobu menu — a Swiftian satire of Nobu’s reckless quest for profit at all costs. What is the difference, the menu suggests, between Northern bluefin and mountain gorilla, Iberian lynx, or California Condor? All of these animals are critically endangered. Why is it acceptable to serve the former, when the presence of any of the latter three on a restaurant menu would no doubt solicit a restaurant critic’s verbal equivalent of a molotov cocktail through the front window?
- Spreading the word, one menu at a time
Over the past week, Greenpeace activists in both New York and Los Angeles have staged “dine-ins” at Nobu’s TriBeCa and West Hollywood locations, festooning the restaurant with mock menus, taking up table space, and demanding to speak to the manager about Nobu’s egregious disregard for our planet’s welfare.
The actions were conducted in a precise manner that was aimed at sending a message to upper management without undue disruption of other restaurant patrons. Nobu servers were generously tipped by Greenpeace activists; after all, the restaurant ownership’s head-in-the-sand mentality does not justify behavior that would send the waitresses and waiters, who have no decision-making power but who do have families and livelihoods, home without the tips on which they depend. We are, after all, in a recession.
The point of all this is to take the issue to Nobu on the restaurant’s home turf. In addition to being lambasted in the press, demonized in a documentary, and boycotted by celebrities, Nobu now must contend with activists that march directly into the restaurant to speak their minds.
Tags: action, albert, alton, bluefin, boycott, brown, casson, charles, clover, de niro, elle, greenpeace, grimaldi, Los Angeles, macphearson, matsuhisa, menu, mock, New York, nobu, overfished, prince, robert, thunnus, thynnus, trenor, TriBeCa, West Hollywood
The stubborn legend himself: Matsuhisa-san
Nobu is a trend-setting establishment that not only spans the globe, but wields incredible influence at the top of the sushi industry food chain. The innovative akumen and staggering talent of Nobu Matsuhisa are undeniable; he is undoubtedly capable of creating delectable dishes from both sustainable and unsustainable sources alike. Why, then, is he so resistant to use these gifts in an environmentally friendly manner?
Still, viewing this issue as “environmentalists v Nobu” is missing the point. Both groups want the same outcome: a healthy and productive ocean that can provide all the ecosystem services to foster sustainable business and healthy living. If Nobu were to drop bluefin and adopt a sustainable business model, it would be in the interest of the environmental community to promote the restaurant and encourage consumers to patronize it, rather than the unfortunate current situation.
Nobu needs to change their practices and begin to demonstrate corporate responsibility. Although environmentally rapacious and irresponsible businesses no longer have a place in this changing world, it is in everyone’s interest that sustainable and wisely managed establishments thrive and succeed.