1. Número 1 · Enero 2015

  2. Número 2 · Enero 2015

  3. Número 3 · Enero 2015

  4. Número 4 · Febrero 2015

  5. Número 5 · Febrero 2015

  6. Número 6 · Febrero 2015

  7. Número 7 · Febrero 2015

  8. Número 8 · Marzo 2015

  9. Número 9 · Marzo 2015

  10. Número 10 · Marzo 2015

  11. Número 11 · Marzo 2015

  12. Número 12 · Abril 2015

  13. Número 13 · Abril 2015

  14. Número 14 · Abril 2015

  15. Número 15 · Abril 2015

  16. Número 16 · Mayo 2015

  17. Número 17 · Mayo 2015

  18. Número 18 · Mayo 2015

  19. Número 19 · Mayo 2015

  20. Número 20 · Junio 2015

  21. Número 21 · Junio 2015

  22. Número 22 · Junio 2015

  23. Número 23 · Junio 2015

  24. Número 24 · Julio 2015

  25. Número 25 · Julio 2015

  26. Número 26 · Julio 2015

  27. Número 27 · Julio 2015

  28. Número 28 · Septiembre 2015

  29. Número 29 · Septiembre 2015

  30. Número 30 · Septiembre 2015

  31. Número 31 · Septiembre 2015

  32. Número 32 · Septiembre 2015

  33. Número 33 · Octubre 2015

  34. Número 34 · Octubre 2015

  35. Número 35 · Octubre 2015

  36. Número 36 · Octubre 2015

  37. Número 37 · Noviembre 2015

  38. Número 38 · Noviembre 2015

  39. Número 39 · Noviembre 2015

  40. Número 40 · Noviembre 2015

  41. Número 41 · Diciembre 2015

  42. Número 42 · Diciembre 2015

  43. Número 43 · Diciembre 2015

  44. Número 44 · Diciembre 2015

  45. Número 45 · Diciembre 2015

  46. Número 46 · Enero 2016

  47. Número 47 · Enero 2016

  48. Número 48 · Enero 2016

  49. Número 49 · Enero 2016

  50. Número 50 · Febrero 2016

  51. Número 51 · Febrero 2016

  52. Número 52 · Febrero 2016

  53. Número 53 · Febrero 2016

  54. Número 54 · Marzo 2016

  55. Número 55 · Marzo 2016

  56. Número 56 · Marzo 2016

  57. Número 57 · Marzo 2016

  58. Número 58 · Marzo 2016

  59. Número 59 · Abril 2016

  60. Número 60 · Abril 2016

  61. Número 61 · Abril 2016

  62. Número 62 · Abril 2016

  63. Número 63 · Mayo 2016

  64. Número 64 · Mayo 2016

  65. Número 65 · Mayo 2016

  66. Número 66 · Mayo 2016

  67. Número 67 · Junio 2016

  68. Número 68 · Junio 2016

  69. Número 69 · Junio 2016

  70. Número 70 · Junio 2016

  71. Número 71 · Junio 2016

  72. Número 72 · Julio 2016

  73. Número 73 · Julio 2016

  74. Número 74 · Julio 2016

  75. Número 75 · Julio 2016

  76. Número 76 · Agosto 2016

  77. Número 77 · Agosto 2016

  78. Número 78 · Agosto 2016

  79. Número 79 · Agosto 2016

  80. Número 80 · Agosto 2016

  81. Número 81 · Septiembre 2016

  82. Número 82 · Septiembre 2016

  83. Número 83 · Septiembre 2016

  84. Número 84 · Septiembre 2016

  85. Número 85 · Octubre 2016

  86. Número 86 · Octubre 2016

  87. Número 87 · Octubre 2016

  88. Número 88 · Octubre 2016

  89. Número 89 · Noviembre 2016

  90. Número 90 · Noviembre 2016

  91. Número 91 · Noviembre 2016

  92. Número 92 · Noviembre 2016

  93. Número 93 · Noviembre 2016

  94. Número 94 · Diciembre 2016

  95. Número 95 · Diciembre 2016

  96. Número 96 · Diciembre 2016

  97. Número 97 · Diciembre 2016

  98. Número 98 · Enero 2017

  99. Número 99 · Enero 2017

  100. Número 100 · Enero 2017

  101. Número 101 · Enero 2017

  102. Número 102 · Febrero 2017

  103. Número 103 · Febrero 2017

  104. Número 104 · Febrero 2017

  105. Número 105 · Febrero 2017

  106. Número 106 · Marzo 2017

  107. Número 107 · Marzo 2017

  108. Número 108 · Marzo 2017

  109. Número 109 · Marzo 2017

  110. Número 110 · Marzo 2017

  111. Número 111 · Abril 2017

  112. Número 112 · Abril 2017

  113. Número 113 · Abril 2017

  114. Número 114 · Abril 2017

  115. Número 115 · Mayo 2017

  116. Número 116 · Mayo 2017

  117. Número 117 · Mayo 2017

  118. Número 118 · Mayo 2017

  119. Número 119 · Mayo 2017

  120. Número 120 · Junio 2017

  121. Número 121 · Junio 2017

  122. Número 122 · Junio 2017

  123. Número 123 · Junio 2017

  124. Número 124 · Julio 2017

  125. Número 125 · Julio 2017

  126. Número 126 · Julio 2017

  127. Número 127 · Julio 2017

  128. Número 128 · Agosto 2017

  129. Número 129 · Agosto 2017

  130. Número 130 · Agosto 2017

  131. Número 131 · Agosto 2017

  132. Número 132 · Agosto 2017

  133. Número 133 · Septiembre 2017

  134. Número 134 · Septiembre 2017

  135. Número 135 · Septiembre 2017

  136. Número 136 · Septiembre 2017

  137. Número 137 · Octubre 2017

  138. Número 138 · Octubre 2017

  139. Número 139 · Octubre 2017

  140. Número 140 · Octubre 2017

  141. Número 141 · Noviembre 2017

  142. Número 142 · Noviembre 2017

  143. Número 143 · Noviembre 2017

  144. Número 144 · Noviembre 2017

  145. Número 145 · Noviembre 2017

  146. Número 146 · Diciembre 2017

  147. Número 147 · Diciembre 2017

  148. Número 148 · Diciembre 2017

  149. Número 149 · Diciembre 2017

  150. Número 150 · Enero 2018

  151. Número 151 · Enero 2018

  152. Número 152 · Enero 2018

  153. Número 153 · Enero 2018

  154. Número 154 · Enero 2018

  155. Número 155 · Febrero 2018

  156. Número 156 · Febrero 2018

  157. Número 157 · Febrero 2018

  158. Número 158 · Febrero 2018

  159. Número 159 · Marzo 2018

  160. Número 160 · Marzo 2018

  161. Número 161 · Marzo 2018

  162. Número 162 · Marzo 2018

  163. Número 163 · Abril 2018

  164. Número 164 · Abril 2018

  165. Número 165 · Abril 2018

  166. Número 166 · Abril 2018

  167. Número 167 · Mayo 2018

  168. Número 168 · Mayo 2018

  169. Número 169 · Mayo 2018

  170. Número 170 · Mayo 2018

  171. Número 171 · Mayo 2018

  172. Número 172 · Junio 2018

  173. Número 173 · Junio 2018

  174. Número 174 · Junio 2018

  175. Número 175 · Junio 2018

  176. Número 176 · Julio 2018

  177. Número 177 · Julio 2018

  178. Número 178 · Julio 2018

  179. Número 179 · Julio 2018

  180. Número 180 · Agosto 2018

  181. Número 181 · Agosto 2018

  182. Número 182 · Agosto 2018

  183. Número 183 · Agosto 2018

  184. Número 184 · Agosto 2018

  185. Número 185 · Septiembre 2018

  186. Número 186 · Septiembre 2018

  187. Número 187 · Septiembre 2018

  188. Número 188 · Septiembre 2018

  189. Número 189 · Octubre 2018

  190. Número 190 · Octubre 2018

  191. Número 191 · Octubre 2018

  192. Número 192 · Octubre 2018

  193. Número 193 · Octubre 2018

  194. Número 194 · Noviembre 2018

  195. Número 195 · Noviembre 2018

  196. Número 196 · Noviembre 2018

  197. Número 197 · Noviembre 2018

  198. Número 198 · Diciembre 2018

  199. Número 199 · Diciembre 2018

  200. Número 200 · Diciembre 2018

  201. Número 201 · Diciembre 2018

  202. Número 202 · Enero 2019

  203. Número 203 · Enero 2019

  204. Número 204 · Enero 2019

  205. Número 205 · Enero 2019

  206. Número 206 · Enero 2019

  207. Número 207 · Febrero 2019

  208. Número 208 · Febrero 2019

  209. Número 209 · Febrero 2019

  210. Número 210 · Febrero 2019

  211. Número 211 · Marzo 2019

  212. Número 212 · Marzo 2019

  213. Número 213 · Marzo 2019

  214. Número 214 · Marzo 2019

  215. Número 215 · Abril 2019

  216. Número 216 · Abril 2019

  217. Número 217 · Abril 2019

  218. Número 218 · Abril 2019

  219. Número 219 · Mayo 2019

  220. Número 220 · Mayo 2019

  221. Número 221 · Mayo 2019

  222. Número 222 · Mayo 2019

  223. Número 223 · Mayo 2019

  224. Número 224 · Junio 2019

  225. Número 225 · Junio 2019

  226. Número 226 · Junio 2019

  227. Número 227 · Junio 2019

  228. Número 228 · Julio 2019

  229. Número 229 · Julio 2019

  230. Número 230 · Julio 2019

  231. Número 231 · Julio 2019

  232. Número 232 · Julio 2019

  233. Número 233 · Agosto 2019

  234. Número 234 · Agosto 2019

  235. Número 235 · Agosto 2019

  236. Número 236 · Agosto 2019

  237. Número 237 · Septiembre 2019

  238. Número 238 · Septiembre 2019

  239. Número 239 · Septiembre 2019

  240. Número 240 · Septiembre 2019

  241. Número 241 · Octubre 2019

  242. Número 242 · Octubre 2019

  243. Número 243 · Octubre 2019

  244. Número 244 · Octubre 2019

  245. Número 245 · Octubre 2019

  246. Número 246 · Noviembre 2019

  247. Número 247 · Noviembre 2019

  248. Número 248 · Noviembre 2019

  249. Número 249 · Noviembre 2019

  250. Número 250 · Diciembre 2019

  251. Número 251 · Diciembre 2019

  252. Número 252 · Diciembre 2019

  253. Número 253 · Diciembre 2019

  254. Número 254 · Enero 2020

  255. Número 255 · Enero 2020

  256. Número 256 · Enero 2020

  257. Número 257 · Febrero 2020

  258. Número 258 · Marzo 2020

  259. Número 259 · Abril 2020

  260. Número 260 · Mayo 2020

  261. Número 261 · Junio 2020

  262. Número 262 · Julio 2020

  263. Número 263 · Agosto 2020

  264. Número 264 · Septiembre 2020

  265. Número 265 · Octubre 2020

  266. Número 266 · Noviembre 2020

  267. Número 267 · Diciembre 2020

  268. Número 268 · Enero 2021

  269. Número 269 · Febrero 2021

  270. Número 270 · Marzo 2021

  271. Número 271 · Abril 2021

  272. Número 272 · Mayo 2021

  273. Número 273 · Junio 2021

  274. Número 274 · Julio 2021

  275. Número 275 · Agosto 2021

  276. Número 276 · Septiembre 2021

  277. Número 277 · Octubre 2021

CTXT necesita 15.000 socias/os para seguir creciendo. Suscríbete a CTXT

English version

China’s global fishing dominance

Subsidies have grown the Chinese fishing fleet into a global force of unprecedented size and geographic reach. This situation has led to international conflicts

Ian Urbina 18/10/2020

<p>Aerial shot of the crew catching fish (January 2019, Antarctica).</p>

Aerial shot of the crew catching fish (January 2019, Antarctica).

Fabio Nascimento

A diferencia de otros medios, en CTXT mantenemos todos nuestros artículos en abierto. Nuestra apuesta es recuperar el espíritu de la prensa independiente: ser un servicio público. Si puedes permitirte pagar 4 euros al mes, apoya a CTXT. ¡Suscríbete!

More than a hundred miles from shore, near the coast of West Africa, I accompanied marine police officers from Gambia as they arrested 15 foreign ships for labor violations and illegal fishing over the course of a week in 2019. All but one of the vessels arrested were from China.

At the beginning of that same year, during a month-long voyage on a toothfish longliner headed into Antarctic waters from Punta Arenas, Chile, the only other ships we passed were a dozen rusty Chinese purse seiners that looked barely seaworthy.

La pandemia ha golpeado duro a CTXT. Si puedes, haz una donación aquí o suscríbete aquí

Aboard a South Korean squid boat in May 2019, I watched nearly two dozen ships flying Chinese flags make their way single file into North Korean waters, in flagrant violation of United Nations sanctions. They were part of the world's largest fleet of illegal ships: 800 Chinese trawlers fishing in the Sea of Japan, revealed in a recent investigation for NBC.

And this month, more than 340 Chinese fishing vessels appeared just outside the biodiverse and ecologically sensitive Galápagos Marine Reserve. Many of the ships were tied to companies associated with illegal fishing, according to C4ADS, a conflict research firm. Three years prior, a similarly-sized Chinese flotilla arrived in these same waters, and one ship was apprehended with about 300 tons of illegally caught fish, including endangered species, such as scalloped hammerhead sharks.

With anywhere from 200,000 to 800,000 boats, some as far afield as Argentina, China is unmatched in the size and reach of its fishing armada. Fueled primarily by government subsidies, its growth and activities have largely gone unchecked, in part because China itself had historically had few rules governing fishing operations. The dominance and global ubiquity of this fleet raise broader questions about how, why, and at what cost China has put so many boats on the water. 

The why has long been clear: geopolitical power and food security for China’s 1.4 billion people. As the U.S. Navy has pulled back from the waters of West Africa and the Middle East, China has bolstered its fishing and naval presence. And in places such as the South China Sea and the Arctic’s Northern Sea Route, China has laid claim to prized shipping lanes as well as sub-sea oil and gas deposits. 

Already 90 percent of commercial fish stocks tracked by the U.N.’s Food and Agriculture Organization have been overfished or fully fished

“The scale and aggressiveness of its fleet puts China in control,” says Greg Poling, director of the Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, adding that few foreign countries have been willing to push back when China’s fishing boats make incursions into their national waters.

As for food security, many of the marine stocks closest to China’s shores have dwindled from overfishing and industrialization, so ships are forced to venture farther to fill their nets. The Chinese government says it has roughly 2,600 distant-water fishing vessels, which, according to a recent report by the Stimson Center, a security research group, makes it three times larger than the fleets of the next top four countries—Taiwan, Japan, South Korea, and Spain—combined.
 
“Without its massive subsidy schemes, China’s distant water fishing fleet would be a fraction of its current size, and most of its South China Sea fleet wouldn’t exist at all,” Poling says.

Over the past two decades, China has spent billions of dollars supporting its fishing industry, says Tabitha Grace Mallory, a professor at the University of Washington, who specializes in China’s fishing policies, in email. In 2018, total global fisheries subsidies were estimated to be $35.4 billion, with China accounting for $7.2 billion of it. The vast majority of that amount went toward what Mallory calls “harmful” subsidies, because they expand rather than contract the size of fishing fleets. This includes those for fuel and for new boats that increase the size of the fleet. Alternatively, a small portion of states subsidies pay for the decommissioning of boats, according to Mallory. 

The government also helps cover the cost of new engines, of more durable steel hulls for trawlers, and for armed security and medical ships to be stationed at fishing grounds, enabling fishing captains to stay at sea for longer. Chinese fishermen further benefit from government-led fishing intelligence that helps them find the richest waters.

Daniel Pauly, principal investigator of the Sea Around Us Project at the University of British Columbia’s Institute for the Oceans and Fisheries, explained in email that subsidies have not only increased geopolitical tensions by allowing ships to venture into contested regions. 

Pauly said, “They also play a major role in depleting fish stocks as they keep vessels operating that would otherwise be decommissioned."

As long as fleets are provided financial assistance to overfish, experts say that sustainable fishing is impossible. Already 90 percent of commercial fish stocks tracked by the U.N.’s Food and Agriculture Organization have been overfished or fully fished—meaning they are past their capacity to sustainably replenish themselves—including the world’s 10 most important commercial species. 

Government-funded overfishing

China is by no means singular when it comes to subsidizing its fishing fleet. More than half of the global fishing industry would be unprofitable at its current scale without government subsidies, according to a 2018 study in Science Advances led by National Geographic Society Explorer-in-Residence Enric Sala.

Japan spends more in subsidies for fishing on the high seas—the parts of the ocean not under control by any government—than any other country, accounting for about 20 percent of global high seas fishing subsidies—$841 million, Sala’s study shows. Spain accounts for 14 percent of global fishing subsidies, followed by China at 10 percent, then South Korea, and the U.S. 

But when it comes to scale, China is by far the biggest. With more than 800 ships on the high seas, Chinese vessels were responsible for more than 35 percent of the reported global catch on the high seas in 2014—more than any other country. (Taiwan, with the next highest number of vessels at 593, accounts for about 12 percent of that catch, and Japan, with 478 ships accounts for less than 5 percent.) 

But subsidies are not just a major reason that the oceans are rapidly running out of fish. In putting too many vessels on the water globally, subsidies can lead to fishing over-capacity, unhealthy competition, territorial disputes, and illegal fishing as captains become desperate to find new, less-crowded fishing grounds. 

Spain accounts for 14 percent of global fishing subsidies, followed by China at 10 percent, then South Korea, and the U.S. 

“To put it bluntly, this is akin to paying burglars to rob your neighbor’s house,” says Peter Thomson, the U.N. Secretary-General’s Special Envoy for the Ocean, about the role that subsidies play in encouraging illegal fishing. 

China ranks as having the world’s worst score when it comes to illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing, according to an index published last year by Poseidon Aquatic Resource Management, a fishery and aquaculture consulting firm.

Small changes
 
Still, China is showing small signs of improvement. Responding to international pressure from ocean conservation groups and foreign governments, the government has begun to tighten control on its fleet in recent years, but conservationists and fisheries experts remain skeptical. 

In 2016, the government released a five-year plan to cap the number of distant-water fishing vessels to fewer than 3,000 by 2021. It’s unclear whether China has made any progress toward this goal, however, because the government releases little data on ship numbers. 
And in June, the Chinese fishing authorities announced they will close squid-catching seasons for Chinese boats in certain South American waters from July to November, citing the need to allow squid populations to replenish. This is the first time China has ever voluntarily closed a fishing season.

“I believe that the Chinese government is serious when they offer to restrict their distant water fleet,” Pauly says. “Whether they can enforce the planned restrictions onto their fleet is another question; indeed, I don’t believe they control their distant-water fleets any more than we control ours in the West.”

With a rapidly growing middle class that’s able to afford more seafood, the Chinese government has boosted its aquaculture industry with more than $250 million in subsidies between 2015 and 2019 in an effort to reduce the country’s dependence on wild-caught fish. 

That move, however, presents a new problem: To fatten up their fish, most fish farms rely on fishmeal, a high-protein powder predominantly made from wild-caught fish from foreign or international waters. Furthermore, aquaculture takes a lot of fishmeal—before a farmed tuna gets to market, for example, it may eat more than 15 times its weight in wild fish in the form of fishmeal. 

Ocean conservationists warn that the voracious nature of fishmeal production is accelerating ocean depletion, contributing to illegal fishing, destabilizing the aquatic food chain, and sapping poorer countries’ waters of protein sources needed for local subsistence. 

“Catching large amounts of wild fish to feed a growing demand for farmed fish makes little sense,” Sala says. “A fraction of those wild fish could instead be used to feed people directly, with less impact on ocean life.”

To meet the demand for fishmeal and fish oil, Chinese fishing authorities said in 2015 they planned to increase the amount of krill harvested from Antarctic waters from 32,000 metric tons to two million metric tons, though they committed to staying out of “ecologically vulnerable” areas. Krill are a primary food source for whales, and conservationists worry about the knock-on effects of such a high harvest.


Subsidies’ role in destabilizing international relations

In addition to the potentially devastating environmental consequences of overfishing and fisheries collapses, so many ships on the sea means more competition for fishing grounds, which can destabilize relationships between countries and lead to violent clashes. 

In 2016, the South Korean Coast Guard opened fire on two Chinese fishing vessels that had threatened to ram patrol boats in the Yellow Sea. A month earlier, Chinese fishermen rammed and sank another South Korean speedboat in the same area. In the same year, Argentina sank a Chinese boat it claimed was fishing illegally in its waters. Indonesia, South Africa and the Philippines have all had recent run-ins with Chinese fishing fleets. In most of these cases, the Chinese boats were fishing for squid, which represents more than half of the fleet's catch on the high seas. 

One of the reasons China’s fleet is so bloated is that some of its fishing ships serve purposes other than merely fishing. Part of a so-called “civilian militia,” Poling says, these fishing vessels are dispatched to conflict zones at sea to surveil the waters and occasionally to intimidate and ram fishing or law enforcement boats from other countries. Separate from its subsidies program that supports its distant-water fishing fleet, China has a program that incentivizes boats to operate in disputed waters in the South China Sea as a way to assert China’s claims. They get many of the same benefits as the distant water fleet, plus cash payments because operating in that region is otherwise unprofitable.
  
More than 200 of these militia fishing boats occupy the waters around the South China Sea’s disputed Spratly Islands—an area rich with fish, and possibly oil and natural gas too—to which China, the Philippines, Vietnam, and Taiwan lay claim. Satellite imagery shows that the Chinese fishing boats in the area spend most of their time anchored close together in clusters and are not actually fishing.

“The only reason that smaller [Chinese] fishermen go out to the Spratlys is because they’re paid to do so,” Poling says. The presence of these fishing vessels has sped the decline of fish around the islands, led to clashes with fishing boats from other countries, and given China cover to build military installations on some of the reefs, further reinforcing its claims to the territory.

Bolstered by subsidies, the Chinese fleet is not only the world’s largest it is also larger than previously recognized. Similarly, the recent discovery of the nearly 800 Chinese trawlers fishing illegally in North Korean waters offers new insight into the disappearance of more than 70 percent of the squid stock in the Sea of Japan (also known as the East Sea). 

In sending a previously invisible armada of industrial boats to fish in these banned waters, China has been violently displacing smaller North Korean vessels and spearheading a decline in once-abundant squid stocks. Asked about the findings, documented by novel satellite technology from Global Fishing Watch and confirmed by my 2019 excursion on a South Korean squid boat, the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs said in a statement to NBC that it “conscientiously enforced” the U.N. Security Council’s North Korea resolutions and has “consistently punished” illegal fishing, but it neither confirmed nor denied the presence of Chinese ships there.

‘They are very serious’

Partly because they travel in groups and sometimes with armed security, Chinese fishing ships are often aggressive toward competitors or perceived threats. I saw this up close after paying my way onto a South Korean squid ship and heading offshore in the Sea of Japan where I hoped to document the presence of illegal Chinese squidders. 

Our captain was a short and wiry man, roughly 70 years old, with deep-set eyes and skin weathered like an elephant. On the morning of our scheduled departure, the hired crew told the captain that they would not be working the trip. They said they were too nervous about being associated with any reporting related to North Korea and about getting near Chinese fishing ships. 

The captain said we could still go to sea with just his first mate, but the ship would be tough to manage, dirtier than normal, and we would need to help him when asked. 

Stinking of rotten chum and skating-rink slippery from prior catch, the deck of the 60-foot long wooden vessel was a mess. Crew quarters were trashed, and the ship engine conked out on us several hundred miles from shore, leading to a tense two hours until it was fixed.

Shortly after nightfall on our very first day offshore, the blip of a boat appeared on our radar. We raced to catch up with what turned out to be not just one ship but nearly two dozen, all heading single-file from South Korean waters into North Korean waters. All were flying Chinese flags, and none with their transponders turned on, as required in South Korean waters.

We followed the boats, filmed them, documented their identification numbers, and after about 45 minutes, we put a drone in the air to get a better look at the ships. In response, one of the Chinese boat captains blared his horn, flashed his lights, and then abruptly cut toward us in a ramming maneuver—a warning. We stayed our course, but the Chinese ship continued toward us. When it reached within 30 feet of us, we suddenly veered to avoid collision. 

This was as much as our captain wanted to risk. Deciding it was too dangerous to continue, he turned our ship around and began the eight-hour trip back to port, during which he seemed unusually quiet and slightly rattled. “They are very serious,” he kept murmuring, referring to the Chinese fishermen, who, undaunted, continued heading into North Korean waters. 

Clearly, subsidies had not just grown the Chinese fishing fleet into a global force of unprecedented size and geographic reach. They had also instilled a sense of ambition, drive and boldness that few other countries or their fishing captains were willing or able to challenge.  

La pandemia ha golpeado duro a CTXT. Si puedes, haz una donación aquí o suscríbete aquí

More than a hundred miles from shore, near the coast of West Africa, I accompanied marine police officers from Gambia as they arrested 15 foreign ships for labor violations and illegal fishing over the course of a week in 2019. All but one of the vessels arrested were from China.

At the beginning of that...

Este artículo es exclusivo para las personas suscritas a CTXT. Puedes suscribirte aquí

Autor >

Ian Urbina

Ian Urbina es exreportero de investigación del New York Times y director de The Outlaw Ocean Project, una organización de periodismo sin fines de lucro con sede en Washington, D.C., que se enfoca en informar sobre crímenes ambientales y de derechos humanos en el mar.

Suscríbete a CTXT

Orgullosas
de llegar tarde
a las últimas noticias

Gracias a tu suscripción podemos ejercer un periodismo público y en libertad.
¿Quieres suscribirte a CTXT por solo 6 euros al mes? Pulsa aquí

Artículos relacionados >

Deja un comentario


Los comentarios solo están habilitados para las personas suscritas a CTXT. Puedes suscribirte aquí