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
Same old same old
Sometimes when I sit down to write one of these posts, I get a sort of melancholy déjà vu. So many of the problems that plague our oceans stem from the same root causes; it’s almost like writing the same article over and over again. Avarice, financial myopia, cultural misunderstandings, and apathetic complacency are frustratingly ubiquitous when we try to decipher and disassemble the tangled, parasitic relationship that we’ve developed with our oceans.
It also seems like every time we start digging into ocean conservation issues anywhere on the planet, we find ourselves up against the same culprits: a small clique of nations that have taken to fishing in a serious way. I suppose this is logical given the total consumption (as well as the per capita consumption) of seafood in these particular countries: they are the source of a tremendous share of the world’s seafood demand, and thus have a vested interest in access the supply freely and without interference from other parties. Still, one would think that their respective decision makers would understand that in order to have fish tomorrow, we have to take proper care of the fish today…. right?
Anyhow, onto the matter at hand.
Perks of the job
Last week, the Western and Central Pacific Fisheries Commission (WCPFC), a body which oversees the regulations governing tuna fishing throughout much of the world’s largest ocean, came together in Tahiti for its annual meeting. Representatives from over a dozen countries flew to Papeete in order to discuss the worrying state of Pacific tunas, concentrating especially on skipjack and bigeye.
There was a great hope that much could be achieved at this meeting. Scores of artisanal fishermen teamed up with local and international NGOs in any number of demonstrations to drive home the fact that these animals are in need of protection. The Pacific is the last ocean with bigeye tuna populations anywhere near healthy levels, and it was made clear that unless stringent and effective quotas are implemented — in conjunction with new closures and off-limits areas — we may lose this stock as well.
Catch us if you can
As I discussed in a previous series of posts, a great deal of the Pacific bigeye stock is taken as bycatch by seiners that are seeking skipjack tuna. In the Western and Central Pacific, these seiners tend to operate in what are known as “donut holes” or “high seas pockets”: areas of ocean that are surrounded by the territorial waters of various countries but are just beyond the 200-mile exclusive economic zone of any of them. Seining was banned in two of the four major pockets in the Pacific Ocean during the WCPFC meeting in 2008, and most of the Pacific island nations were hoping to seal the deal and protect the remaining two this year.
Alas. Enter the usual suspects.
There are three key states that have a long-standing track record of blocking this kind of progress in the Pacific: South Korea, Japan, and Taiwan. These countries tend to work as a bloc to forestall regulatory measures that would preclude their fleets from plundering the Pacific at will. Lamentably, this meeting proved to be no exception.
On my own
A group of small island states proposed a 50% reduction in the overall bigeye tuna quota. South Korea, Japan, and Taiwan, joined by China and the Philippines, opposed the measure — even though their own scientists advised them to do otherwise. In the face of this obstinacy, the proposal never had a chance. It died horribly right there in the room and left the Pacific bigeye populations unprotected.
To add insult to injury, I should note that it was actually the Japanese that raised the issue about tuna welfare in the first place. The Japanese delegation went on record early in the meeting stating that no other tuna species can be allowed to decline to the point of meeting the CITES Appendix I criteria, as the northern bluefin does (this was, by the way, the first time that the Japanese government has admitted that northern bluefin qualifies for CITES protection.) Japan also expressed concern over the state of sharks, especially hammerheads, in the Pacific. This is good news, right? The largest per capita seafood consumer in the world standing up for the oceans?
Well, a couple of days later, they reversed their stance, blocked all precautionary proposals and quota reductions, and ensured that bigeye and yellowfin tuna continue on the fast track to endangered species land. Thanks guys.
Yeah... like an impoverished puppy
To be fair, there’s really no room for any kind of flag-waving on my part. The US delegation actually arrived at the meeting planning to oppose these precautionary measures as well. In the end they were persuaded to abstain from the vote, but still, hardly a pride-inducing course of action.
The presence of a new and woefully inexperienced chairman did not help matters. At one point, when one of the delegations raised concerns about the state of porbeagle sharks in the Pacific, the chairman was quoted as saying, “What? What’s a pork barrel shark?”
Yeah. I’m not kidding.
Catch of the day
In the end, it pretty much all fell apart. Despite strong efforts from France, Australia, numerous Pacific island nations, Greenpeace, and several local environmental groups, the meeting ended not with a bang, but with a whimper. Two enormous high seas pockets remain open to purse seiners that regularly take large quantities of juvenile bigeye. Sharks and tuna are still without succor, their diminishing populations at the mercy of relentless longliners.
Still… there’s gotta be a silver lining here somewhere. Hang on, I’ll find something…
Oh, yeah. Here we go.
This miserable outcome has upset many of these Pacific island states to no end. In fact, it may lead renegotiation of access agreements by these tiny countries: if the WCPFC can’t effectively protect these delicate fisheries, the Pacific island governments may just have to go it alone. They’re even talking about withdrawing from the Commission if it can’t serve it’s purpose, and relying on bilateral negotiation in an attempt to keep these foreign fleets out of their waters.
Preach on
Wait a minute — that’s it? That’s the silver lining? We’re finding our solace in the breakdown of an attempted multinational management body in favor of a clutch of one-off two-party agreements of dubious strength and effectiveness? In an emergency backpedaling in the face of failure? In the inability of key stakeholder countries to see the writing on the wall and to take the simple, logical action necessary to protect their economy, environment, and children?
Wow. Whatever’s happening in Copenhagen right now must be contagious.
Tags: bigeye, china, commission, high seas, japan, korea, pacific, papeete, pockets, porbeagle, quota, seiner, skipjack, spain, tahiti, taiwan, tuna, WCPFC, yellowfin
This article is continued from a previous post.
Desperate times
As promised, after four weeks of waiting, I finally have something substantial to report.
At three o’clock on a dark, sweaty Thursday morning, I was called to the bridge by the watchkeeper. I stumbled through the alleyways and hauled myself up two rolling and pitching stairwells, my shirt clammy and wrinkled and my eyes bloodshot from a long bout with insomnia. After nearly a month at sea and nothing to show for it, I was dearly hoping that I had been summoned for a good reason, not for just another false alarm. Please, I pleaded silently, please let there be a ship out there.
My bleary eyes were directed to the softly backlit radar screen, and suddenly my adrenals shot into overdrive and I was wide awake. There wasn’t just one ship on the screen – there were four.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, we had bumbled our way right into the center of a fishing fleet.
Filling their purse
As soon as it was light enough to see, the Esperanza’s crew sprung into action. A launch was scrambled and the boarding team shot off towards the nearest seiner, which had already set its net and was beginning to haul it in.
Our launch pulled up alongside the fishing vessel, close enough that we could almost touch the floats that kept the seine net in contact with the water’s surface. The massive net was looped around a FAD that had been bobbing in the water for a week or more. The seiner’s crew hooked the seine net drawstring to a massive, towering winch, and slowly the net began to constrict as the drawstring pulled tight: an ocean-going python of immense length and power.
A bloody mess
Eventually the fish trapped within the net began to panic. We began to see tuna jumping and splashing frantically, churning what had been the ocean’s calm surface waters to a white, bubbly froth. The net pulled tighter and tighter, forcing hundreds, even thousands of these animals together into a lethal gridlock. The winch slowly and inexorably cranked the net aloft, as unstoppable and unforgiving as the reaper’s scythe. The massive weight of the catch forced the strands of the net into the scales and flesh of the unfortunate animals on the bottom. The seine began to weep blood.
The fish were hoisted onto the deck and dumped into the cargo hold. We boarded the ship and set about scouring the decks and holds for evidence of bycatch. Our photographer and videographer documented everything as the unwanted catch, including dorado (mahi mahi), triggerfish, marlin, and mackerel, was tossed over the side or simply tossed into a trough that served as a temporary storage for bycatch. The fishermen were actually quite pleasant and helpful as a general rule, although that may have been because the language barrier prevented us from offering an in-depth explanation of our true motivation.
One of the lucky ones
Throughout the day, the boarding team cycled back and forth among the different ships, witnessing, boarding, and documenting. On two separate occasions we saw turtles ensnared by the seiners. They had been attracted to the FADs and were in the wrong place at the wrong time when the ship set. Luckily, the fishermen were able to free the animals both times. Turtles aren’t always so fortunate in these situations.
On one of the ships, I managed to sweet-talk my way deep into the guts of the ship so I could crawl into the fish hold itself. I rummaged through a pile of thousands of dead and dying skipjack, looking for juvenile bigeye and yellowfin tuna that had been netted along with their more numerous cousins. It only took me a matter of seconds to find the first, a bigeye that was no larger than my forearm. After that, I started to see them everywhere. My rough estimate is that between 10 and 15 percent of the seiner’s total catch was juvenile bigeye and yellowfin.
Don't it make your bigeyes blue
I grabbed a dead bigeye and a dead skipjack and showed them to a fisherman. I pointed at the skipjack and asked him in Spanish what it was called. He looked at me blankly and replied, “atun.” I nodded, and then pointed to the bigeye. “This one is different, though,” I said, “it’s a different species. What’s this one called?” He shrugged and gave me a friendly grin. “Atun,” he said.
Maybe that’s part of the problem.
We repeated these visits all day, moving from ship to ship, documenting clean catches as well as hauls that were stuffed with unwanted animals. I saw dozens of dying mahi mahi and triggerfish tossed back into the sea, left to bleed out and sink to their doom. Large, majestic marlin, crushed and suffocated by the seining process, were tucked away in back corners of the hold as a private stash for the seiner’s captain. Worst of all, we saw hundreds of baby bigeye and yellowfin tuna – species already under serious threat — meet their end as they got lost in the shuffle, mixed in with skipjack destined for low-value tins. No doubt the bigeye and yellowfin stocks will never be able to recover if we keep purloining their young, but that is precisely what is happening.
We shall overcome
Still, as troubling as it was to witness these travesties, morale on the ship has never been higher. We have done what we set out to do — obtained photographic proof of the horrifying bycatch associated with these FAD seiners. We still have several more days to search, but even if we end up with nothing more than what we’ve already collected, it is certainly enough to convince me that something rotten is afoot in the Eastern Pacific.
Tags: ban, bigeye, billfish, bycatch, camera, dorado, ecuador, FAD, mahi, marlin, net, purse seine, seine, seiner, skipjack, triggerfish, tuna, turtle, video, yellowfin
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
Under a Tahitian cloud
This article continues from a previous post.
After enduring a few unfortunate customs snags and transit delays, I finally joined the crew of the Esperanza in Papeete, the commercial center of Tahiti and the capital of French Polynesia, on Saturday, November 7th.
Tahiti is not like the other parts of the Pacific that I’ve visited. First of all, it’s wealthy. Its political connections to France (French Polynesia is still dependent territory under French rule) and the resulting subsidies have brought a tremendous amount of money to the island. As such, being a tourist in Tahiti is not cheap. I was dropping between eight and ten dollars for a beer.
Still, Papeete is a nice place: the harbor and streets are festooned with ivory tiare flowers, and an incomprehensibly verdant mountain tears its way skyward a stone’s throw from the center of town, providing a heart-melting south Pacific backdrop.
Capt. Habib and President Timaru - reunited
The President of French Polynesia, the Honorable Oscar Timaru, stopped by to say hello and to voice his support for Greenpeace and for the campaign. President Timaru and Captain Madeline Habib, the skipper of the Esperanza, actually spent some time working together on a nuclear campaign in Moruroa in 1995.
After President Timaru left, the Esperanza steamed out of Papeete harbor. The next few days were spent heading north around the western edge of the Tuamotu Archipelago and then northeast towards the Marquesas Islands.
We’ve now been at sea for one week, and life on board is casual and relaxed. The crew is experienced and capable, and the captain runs this ship with a steady hand and a positive attitude.
A FAD from yesteryear
On Friday, November 13, we encountered our first FAD. It was floating in the open sea southwest of the Marquesas, and appeared to be derelict – there was no radio transmitter attached to it, nor were there any markings to suggest ownership or origin. The FAD itself was basically a makeshift bamboo raft fixed to a nylon rope, which vanished into the depths (it was presumably attached a weight of some kind). A thick crust of gooseneck barnacles encased the entire FAD; it had clearly been in the water for some time.
The camera team was deployed to investigate and catalog the FAD and the ecosystem that had developed around it. We counted at least eight different species of fish schooling around it, and that was only what were were able to positively identify. Seiners are only after one of those species — skipjack tuna. The other seven would all end up dead, tossed over the side as bycatch.
Wrong place, right time
The FAD had done its job — it had become a sort of floating reef, attracting numerous forage fish as well as several different types of predatory animals. A few oceanic white-tip sharks haunted the area, skirting the edges in search of an easy meal. If this FAD were found and fished by a purse seiner, those sharks and everything else around the raft would be caught in the net and killed.
As we continue traveling north towards the Equator, we’ll move into a latitudinal band known as the Doldrums, an area between 5° N and 5°S known for having weak currents and lackluster wind. This is a preferred target area for skipjack seiners, as they are able to drop FADs with little worry of the devices being carried away by a restless ocean.
More updates as we move onward.
This article continues in a subsequent post.
Tags: bamboo, equator, esperanza, FAD, france, marquesas, oscar, papeete, president, raft, seine, seiner, shark, skipjack, tahiti, timaru, tradewinds, tuamotu
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
Posted by Casson on Feb 4, 2009 in
News and Announcements I apologize for not being more on the ball with this update; this conference has been a bit overwhelming.
Anyhow, there’s been a lot of talk here about the growing (?) sustainable seafood movement in Japan, the world’s #1 seafood consumer per capita. The Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) is claiming that there’s a burgeoning awareness within the Japanese consumer public: In 2004, there were no MSC-certified products available in Japan. Today, there are 150.
While I’m certainly glad to see that more and more fisheries are being certified by the MSC, I don’t necessarily agree with their conclusion. The MSC-certified products available in Japan are largely imports from fisheries that also sell their product to other countries, especially in Europe and North America, where the public is much more aware of the MSC. Commitments like those made by WalMart (all wild seafood to be MSC-certified by 2014), or the entire country of Holland (only MSC-certified wild fish to be sold) help to drive demand in these areas.
One could argue that Japan is importing the same products they had been five years ago, but the products simply happen to be MSC-certified now and weren’t previously. So is this really indicative of a growing awareness in Japan?
As of March 2008, a study undertaken by the Japan office of the MSC indicated that only 8% of the surveyed public were aware of the MSC label. That number decreases to 5% when the survey is narrowed to pregnant women and mothers (a demographic which is often responsible for shopping for food and domestic goods, including fish).
The story becomes even more telling when you start to look at the actual products coming from Japan that are being certified by the MSC: Products like snow crab and skipjack tuna. These are items that have garnered popularity beyond Japan with the expansion of the sushi industry into a global phenomenon. Compare this to those fish that were “left behind,” as it were — fish like sayori and kohada that are only rarely encountered in other countries but have immense popularity and cultural value in Japan.
One could imagine that if awareness of and value for MSC certification was growing among the Japanese public to a level where it was driving demand, we would be seeing certification efforts on these domestically-driven fisheries as well. And yet…?
Tags: gizzard shad, halfbeak, japan, kani, katsuo, kohada, msc, sayori, skipjack, snow crab
