dFADs as Abandoned, Lost or Otherwise Ddiscarded Fishing Gear (ALDFG),

As you may know, I have a strong interest in dFADs and have written ad nauseam about them.

In a recent post—“We need to start seeing dFADs as a waste crisis in the WCPO”— I describe the unsettling feeling of watching a “slow-motion train crash” unfold in a fishery that, on paper, is otherwise a global success story. The stocks are stable. IUU is controlled. Labour issues are—slowly—being addressed.

And yet, between 40,000 and 60,000 move silently across the WCPO—many of them untracked, unaccounted for, and largely unmanaged at the end of their life.

That number alone should force us to reframe the conversation.

While it would have helped me a lot to read this FAO/IMO report on abandoned, lost or otherwise discarded fishing gear (ALDFG), it helps, perhaps unintentionally, to sharpen this reframing.

The anatomy of a problem we pretend not to see

Let's get the basics right: dropping or retrieving a dFADs fits inside the definition of fishing and is considered as such; therefore, dFADs are fishing gear, and as such, they can be seen as part of the ALDFG ecosystem

Section 2 of this report does something deceptively simple: it dissects the term ALDFG. It pulls apart the acronym—abandoned, lost, otherwise discarded—and in doing so exposes the uncomfortable ambiguity that has allowed the issue to persist in regulatory limbo.

Fishing gear, we are reminded, is not trivial. It is capital.

Similar to FADs, these are expensive tools that often represent a significant investment. So why are they left behind? The answer is not singular, and that is precisely the problem.

Some FADs are abandoned—left deliberately, often under duress…. But basically, a calculation that recovery is not worth the risk. Some FADs are lost—a casualty of currents, conflict with other gear, or simple bad luck. And some is discarded—quietly, rationally, economically—because disposal at sea is cheaper than doing it properly.

Each category carries a different moral weight, but the impacts do not care about our semantics. A FAD that is “lost” is just as impactful as one that is "discarded". The distinction matters legally; it does not matter ecologically.

And here lies the first uncomfortable insight: ALDFG is not a single problem. It is a spectrum of behaviours, incentives, and failures.

The report is refreshingly honest about this. It acknowledges that some forms—particularly accidental loss—are inherently resistant to regulation. You cannot legislate away storms or untimely damage or technical failures. But others—especially deliberate discarding—are entirely within human control.

Which raises the obvious question: why do we deal with them so slowly?

Because dFADs do not fit neatly into those categories.

• They are deployed with the expectation of partial loss.

• They are tracked—until they are not.

• ·They are used efficiently—until they drift beyond economic reach.

At some point, every dFAD transitions from asset to liability. And at that exact moment, the system quietly lets go.

Was it abandoned? Lost? Discarded? Legally, it matters. Operationally, it does not.

And unlike many other gear types discussed in the report, dFADs are not marginal. They are central to the modern purse seine fishery. Their scale is industrial. Their lifecycle is, by design, incomplete.

Which leads to an uncomfortable conclusion: dFADs are not just fishing gear that ends up as waste. They are, structurally, a waste-generating system.

The efficiency paradox

The FAO/ILO questions: why would fishers abandon valuable gear? With dFADs, the answer is brutally clear: because efficiency demands it.

FADs have transformed tuna fisheries by dramatically increasing catch efficiency. They reduce search time, stabilise operations, and generate substantial economic returns. As I have noted elsewhere, the return on investment of a single buoy can be extraordinary.

As I put it, “this is the bill for the massive increase in efficiency that FADs brought to the PS fishery.” and is one that is:

• Not paid by the vessel.

• Not paid by the flag State.

• Not even fully paid by the market.

It is paid downstream—by ecosystems, by coastal communities, and by small island developing States that find these objects washing ashore, entangling reefs, or simply accumulating as marine debris.

back in the days

A regulatory toolbox that wasn’t built for this

Section 4 of the FAO/IMO report opens the “regulatory toolbox.” It is comprehensive, logical, and—on paper—reassuring, yet is where the tone shifts from diagnosis to possibility. And here, the irony becomes almost painful: the legal tools already exist.

Command-and-control rules? Available.
Liability regimes? Conceptually straightforward.
Impact assessments? Routine.
Voluntary measures? Abundant.

But here is the problem: most of these tools assume discrete events. dFADs are different.

They are not exceptional events; they are systemic flows. Thousands are deployed, drift, fragment, beach, or disappear every year as part of normal operations.

This is why enforcement struggles. MARPOL Annex V, for instance, clearly prohibits the discharge of plastics, including fishing gear. But as the report notes, enforcement at sea is inherently weak, especially across a dispersed fleet.

And in the WCPO context, we already know this story: rules exist, compliance is partial, and the gap between intention and reality remains stubbornly wide.

Because most of these tools share a common flaw: You cannot meaningfully regulate reality with rules designed for accidents.

These tools regulate behaviour without fundamentally changing incentives. They tell fishers what they should not do, but rarely make it economically irrational to do it.

This is where Section 4.4—market-based mechanisms—quietly emerges as the most promising, and perhaps the most underutilised, pathway, which reassures me on my bod idea in the FAD workshop blog I wrote before.

Seeing dFADs for what they are

In that blog post, I make a conceptual leap: dFADs should be treated as a waste problem rather than just a fisheries management issue.

If dFADs are waste, they should be treated as waste. Which brings us to deposit-refund schemes.

Imagine this: every dFAD deployed carries a deposit—attached to the buoy, the structure, or both. That deposit is only recovered when the dFAD is either retrieved, accounted for, or demonstrably transferred into an approved recovery or recycling pathway.

Suddenly, the economics change.

A drifting FAD is no longer just a lost opportunity—it is stranded capital. A beached FAD is not just debris—it is recoverable value.

A community that retrieves a FAD is not cleaning up someone else’s mess—it is participating in a reverse logistics system.

This is the essence of the polluter pays principle—not as an abstract legal doctrine, but as an operational reality.

And crucially, it does something that traditional regulation cannot: it works even when no one is watching.

From invisible losses to traceable assets

We do not even know exactly how many dFADs are in the water. That uncertainty is not incidental—it is foundational to the problem.

Deposit-refund systems, by necessity, require traceability. They force the creation of registries, tracking systems, and accountability chains. In doing so, they generate precisely the data that is currently missing.

They transform a diffuse, invisible flow into a measurable system. And once something is measurable, it becomes governable.

The economic discomfort of obvious solutions

The FAO/IMO report ends with a quiet truth: the choice of tools is not legal, but economic and political.

Applying deposit-refund systems to dFADs would not be technically difficult. The technology already exists—satellite buoys, tracking databases, and fleet reporting systems.

What is required is a shift in perspective:

From seeing dFADs as tools of production to seeing them as products with a lifecycle.

From treating loss as inevitable to treating it as a cost to be internalised.

From regulating behaviour to redesigning incentives. But dFADs are not a natural disaster. They are a designed system, operating exactly as its incentives dictate.

Which means they can be redesigned, and the FAO/IMO report sets out the legal framework.

Because once we accept that dFADs are not just fishing gear but industrial-scale drifting waste, the policy response becomes not only clearer but also unavoidable.

The Pacific has always been a place of movement—currents, migrations, trade winds, history, colonialism, and boom-and-bust cycles.

Now it carries something else: the externalities of fisheries efficiency.

The question is no longer whether we understand the problem. It is whether we are prepared to make waste visible—and make the responsible pay for it, but not as punishment, but as rent for fishing here.

The Roughest Form of Ballet: Masculinity and Risks on Tuna Fishing boats

At the end of 2024, Victoria M. Syddall, the author of the paper I’m sharing here and with whom I had previously collaborated on her work on gender and fisheries, approached me for an interview for a scientific paper she was writing.

Her pitch immediately attracted my interest, as her research took a bold step beyond her prior work on power and gender imbalance in tuna fisheries, which has driven important reforms, especially in small-scale fisheries

I know… safety gear wasn't a thing at the time…. You can be more, but not less than your fellow crew… particularly for me as the only part-white guy on board

The paper she co-wrote with Karen Fisher, “Exposing multiple masculinities across hierarchies and performance and experience of risk-taking on-board tuna longlining vessels in the WCPO”, investigated something we have long known but rarely articulated in industrial tuna fisheries generally, and in fishing boats specifically: men are not a uniform block of power.

I just read the paper and was pleasantly surprised to see that many aspects of our conversations, many of my direct quotes (under “participant, online” and anyone who knows me will recognise them), and even some blog entries are included in it.

The key issue she brings up, and that I fully endorse, is that masculinity at sea is divided, racialised, contractualised, and deeply shaped by hierarchy. Some men command. Some endure. Some just don’t handle it and leave the fishery, or in a few extreme cases, don’t make it back.

Drawing on empirical research in Fiji’s longline fishery and conversations with people like me, the authors explore how multiple masculinities are performed, negotiated, and policed on board vessels.

They reject the familiar image of the “hard-bodied, risk-taking fisherman” as the universal male archetype. Instead, they reveal a layered world where nationality, rank, contract type, vessel flag, race, and class intersect to determine which men are visible, which are expendable, and which are protected.

At sea, hierarchy is spatial. Your rank determines the amount of space you have, which bunk you sleep in, the workload you have, your exposure to risk, and, of course, your pay.

The captain and engineer — often aligned with the vessel’s ownership nationality or flag state — hold authority. Beneath them sit officers, mates, bosuns, and deckhands, with the lower ranks frequently recruited from Southeast Asian or Pacific Island communities under markedly different contracts. Two men may stand side by side hauling the same line, yet one is paid more, housed better, and treated as belonging, while the other is perhaps more disposable

Masculinity, in this context, is more than just an identity.

The paper frames this through intersectionality—not as an academic flourish but as an analytical necessity. Risk at sea is not evenly shared. Some men are expected to display physical strength and endurance; others are stereotyped as compliant and low-skilled; still others are burdened by racialised assumptions that influence discipline and surveillance. Masculinity becomes both performance and constraint. It can elevate a man within a hierarchy—or trap him in it.

The authors’ risk framework is especially persuasive. They utilise disaster risk scholarship to conceptualise vulnerability not as weakness but as exposure influenced by thresholds, stressors, pre-existing conditions, and outcomes.

On a tuna longliner, these stressors are constant: long voyages, isolation, hazardous machinery, sleep deprivation, unpredictable weather, market pressure, and hierarchical discipline. However, vulnerability is heightened when these physical risks intersect with unstable contracts, language barriers, withheld wages, or the inability to seek redress.

This is where the paper challenges the dominant gender narrative. The authors argue that much of what has been described as “labour abuse” or “human rights violations” also amounts to gender-based violence of men against men.

Debt bondage, forced labour, physical assault, psychological intimidation, wage withholding, racial humiliation — these are not gender-neutral issues simply because the victims are male. They occur within masculinised spaces, reinforcing norms of dominance, toughness, and a “just deal with it” attitude.

And “just deal with it” is key.

The dominant narrative of masculinity — stoicism, endurance, resilience — conceals vulnerability. A man injured at sea may lose not only his job but also his standing in his village. A crew member who reports abuse risks ostracism or losing his employment. Some deaths are recorded as “fell overboard.” Others remain ambiguously documented. The paper highlights how migrant and low-ranking crew can be highly visible as potential troublemakers, yet invisible when it comes to welfare and protection.

The policy analysis is sobering, and as I have mentioned in my work many times, despite the widespread discourse on human rights within fisheries governance, gender issues remain largely absent from the strong framework of tuna regulation. UNCLOS, the Fish Stocks Agreement, and the FAO Code of Conduct — none of these explicitly address gendered labour dynamics at sea. Even where labour standards exist regionally, they have been slow to become legally binding and even slower to explicitly incorporate gender or Gender-Based Violence considerations.

While the FFA HMTCs and WCPFC Labour CMM have made steady progress on crew labour standards, the gap between resolutions and enforceable measures reveals a structural delay. Meanwhile, masculinised vessel cultures persist within fragmented oversight regimes.

The authors are not suggesting that attention to the “traditional take on gender” should decrease. Instead, they argue that gender equality policy must become relational. If we overlook how masculinities are constructed, rewarded, and punished in fisheries, we end up reproducing the very hierarchies we aim to dismantle.

One of the most notable contributions of the paper is its typology that links hierarchy, risk, resilience, and amplifiers. Crew hierarchy intersects with labour sourcing patterns and vessel flags. Distant-water fleets with long voyages and few port calls are associated with higher forced labour risk indicators. Contract opacity increases economic vulnerability. Cultural narratives about “strong Pacific men” or “cheap Southeast Asian labour” reinforce both exploitation and silence.

Masculinity at sea is therefore neither inherently powerful nor inherently oppressed. It is contingent. A captain’s authority is not the same as a deckhand’s endurance. A racially aligned senior officer may be protected by ownership ties; a migrant crew member may be subjected to both economic and physical coercion.

Importantly, the paper also places these dynamics within social-ecological systems. Tuna fisheries are not just extraction industries; they are embedded in coastal communities where remittances, status, and social expectations circulate. A man’s ability to provide sustains household resilience. When injury, unpaid wages, or disappearance disrupt that flow, vulnerability spreads outward.

There is an uncomfortable clarity here. Tuna fisheries are often discussed in terms of stock assessments, CPUE, and compliance regimes. Yet beneath those metrics are embodied hierarchies. The choreography on deck during fishing —described by my quote

“You need to have your game on; if you fuck up, someone else pays the price. This is because everything is connected and moving. Fishing is the roughest form of ballet you can imagine; choreography has to be impeccable on board because the consequences of mistakes are bad, life-threatening if anyone is slacking, and the others will let them know real fast”

Fishing depends on disciplined, ranked performances. When one body falters, another absorbs the risk.

And adapting to that structure is not easy for everyone. Here again, my words come up:

I think that of the guys I fished with, including myself, are what you call today “on the spectrum” (Autism Spectrum Disorder - ASD), and in my case, also dyslexic, which was seen as dumb, suggesting that, as a big man, I should pursue a career in fishing. And while fisheries have been described quite rightly as a microcosm of society, vessels are a bit different: they are small, unique societies comprising socially excluded individuals. In this sense, you can argue that tuna fishing boats are socially inclusive, as they employ men who struggled to find work elsewhere.

The authors conclude that meaningful gender-transformative policy must engage with multiple masculinities. That means recognising migrant men as rights-bearing workers, not just labour inputs. It means integrating gender explicitly into crew welfare measures. It means collecting disaggregated data that goes beyond binary categories and token inclusion. It also means confronting the fact that industrial tuna governance has privileged economic efficiency over social equity.

And in that aspect, I really appreciate that Victoria and Karen’s paper neither romanticises nor demonises fishers. It explores our complexities.

And perhaps its most crucial contribution is that, in tuna fishing across the WCPO, men are neither simple heroes nor uniform oppressors.

They are positioned actors within complex systems of power, race, contract, and hierarchy. If fisheries policy continues to treat them as a single, invulnerable group, it will continue to fail to recognise the structural conditions that influence both their exploitation and resilience at sea.

In a sector increasingly scrutinised for human rights abuses, this analysis emphasises that gender is not an afterthought. It is essential to the organisation of labour, risk, and value in the global seafood economy.

And until governance frameworks recognise that… the “choreography” I was quoted with will continue — precise, disciplined, and too often unforgiving.

my take on the IMO Cape Town Agreement Impact on IUU fishing

I walked away from most social media a few years ago (I only maintain Bluesky and LinkedIn), yet I have had a few non-fishing acquaintances telling me I just read that “a new agreement is going to help finish IUU fishing”… so I thought that I could unpack what the IMO Cape Town Agreement really can (and cannot) do, at least from my operational perspective,

So as usual, hype overruns reality… The Cape Town Agreement  (CTA) is not a fisheries instrument — and it was never meant to be.

But dismissing it is not fair, and leads to missing its deeper structural potential.

Let’s start with the premise that signing an agreement (which, after all, is a piece of paper) does mean that the problem it addresses is over… it only means that, as a signatory, you now have responsibilities and standards to meet.

Generally, international bodies adopt the language of an agreement over the years, and once agreed, they set a minimum threshold for accession by IMO member countries before it enters into force, meaning that those that have ratified it need to comply with it.

The CTA (adopted in 2012 under the International Maritime Organisation) updates and modernises the 1977 Torremolinos International Convention for the Safety of Fishing Vessels and the 1993 Torremolinos Protocol.

The CTA was to enter into force 12 months after at least 22 States, collectively representing 3,600 qualifying fishing vessels - typically ocean-going ships operating on the high seas - consent to being bound by the treaty. With the recent accession of Argentina, the total number of Member States has reached 28, and, crucially, the sum of 3,754 vessels of 24 metres or more in length.

The CTA core purpose is to set minimum requirements for Safety standards for fishing vessels ≥24m, in relation to construction, stability, life-saving appliances, radio communications and fire protection, among others as well as setting up mandatory certification and inspection, as well as stronger flag State obligations (yet with the caviat that is applies only to the 28 that are contracting states of the agreement, so far Argentina, Belgium, Belize, Congo, Cook Islands, Croatia, Denmark, Finland, France, Germany, Ghana, Iceland, Japan, Kenya, Namibia, Kingdom of the Netherlands, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Norway, Peru, Portugal, Republic of Korea, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Sao Tome and Principe, Solomon Islands, South Africa, Spain and Vanuatu)

CTA is about the safety standards for fishing vessels above 24m for flag states that are contracting states to the agreement… is not about fishing… but

It raises the cost of being flagged to some open registries

Some open registries (flags of convenience) are associated with states that typically exhibit high levels of IUU events. They are attractive because of their minimal or non-existent requirements for fisheries compliance monitoring. Additionally, they accept substandard vessels in terms of safety (as good, safe vessels are expensive), and often have poorly documented ownership structures behind numerous shell companies, making it difficult to identify responsible parties if problems occur. Regulatory fragmentation also exists, as aspects such as MARPOL compliance and minimal manning standards—such as qualifications and international equivalents required to be a captain or second mate—are convoluted. The key selling point of open registries is their weak flag control, and in many cases, they also function as fiscal paradises, as detailed here.

The CTA imposes more stringent requirements regarding identification and documentation, proper vessel certification, surveys, and inspection routines, which implies recognised flag State oversight. In other words, it obliges vessels to operate within a system of greater transparency than at present, which, in turn, can assist fisheries prosecutions.

Yet again… it would only apply to the countries that are parties to the agreement… and I'm encouraged to see that open registries with low levels of fisheries compliance, such as Belize and Vanuatu, are part of it…. Yet this is a small % of flag states

Does it strengthen port and coastal leverage?

A lot is being said that the CTA complements instruments like the FAO Port State Measures Agreement (PSMA) and the ILO’s Work in Fishing Convention. Yet let’s digest this a bit from the operational side.

Now, as explained before… those agreements are also only compulsory for states that have become parties to it (25 for C188 and 108 for PSMA)

From the PSMA side, the port states that the parties have the right to require vessels arriving to provide information 72 hours in advance, and then conduct intelligence and, as a result, use tools such as deny entry, deny port use, inspect, detain, etc.

However, as a fisheries authority, we cannot take direct action if a vessel lacks a valid safety certification, fails to meet compliance standards, or is structurally non-compliant. The best approach is to collaborate with the official body in the port states responsible for maritime safety, and hope their legal structure and resources can do something about it… Yet again, this displaces the burden to many developing countries’ ports instead of putting the onus of compliance assessment where it legally belongs: the flag state! How come a vessel that is structurally non-compliant, or lacks safety certifications, is allowed to travel to my port by its ultimate responsible, the flag state? Why do I have to make it my problem as a port state?

With C188, the link becomes even more fragile… a vessel can be constructed and designed to meet CTA requirements, and have crew on board whose contracts and living conditions do not satisfy ILO C188, and vice versa. Therefore, unless the flag state is a party to both, the two remain independent.

Yeah, but port states can inspect both and do seething… sure… but again… why do we expect many developing countries’ port states to bear the burden of compliance with flag state obligations? How come an unsafe vessel with crew on board whose labour rights are substandard is allowed to leave the waters of the flag state?

So to summarise, the CTA does not include, among others:

• Criminalise IUU fishing

• Mandate AIS/VMS transparency

• Address beneficial ownership

• Create global vessel identifiers

• Harmonise RFMO enforcement

• Automatically link to any of the present catch documentation schemes

And without a strong flag State political will, it is just paperwork. If key distant-water fleets ratify but under-enforce, little changes, and if major fishing States (like China, Panama, USA, Taiwan, Nauru, FSM, Ecuador, just to name a few in the Pacific) stay outside, the main holes remain.

Where it could be transformative

If — and this is the big IF — it becomes integrated (i.e. a requirement) for:

• RFMO positive vessel lists to operate in the high seas

• Part of the licensing condition to operate in coastal states

• Part of the conditions for IMO ship identification numbers

• Part of the condition for crew labour rights compliance regimes

But for me, at least, the key measure would be to make it a condition for insurance and classification societies… no CTA adherence, no insurance.

But yeah… until such day… It’s great that CTA has entered into force, no doubt… but will I see a difference in my work in the fisheries administrations and wharves in the short and medium term… not really.

One Hundred Years of tuna, adaptability and systems

The two times I wrote about work by John DeBeer (here and here), I mentioned that I grew up in a culture where you always listened to and respected your elders. This was later emphasised by my time in the Navy and then in fishing, as well as by the Pacific cultures that have hosted me in my new home since 1991.

You may not always need to agree with them, but you listen, because they have two things that only time can give context and perspective.

I completely devoured the latest book by John (and a bunch of other well-known tuna experts), A Personalised History of the U.S. West Coast Tuna Industry, as soon as the copy he kindly sent me arrived home.

He and some of the other authors are the elders in the tuna world I’m part of, and he has always been very kind with his time to my questions and views. So if you want to understand the tuna industry from the perspective of where it started and in 1rst person experience, I recommend you get a hard copy or the Kindle one

The tuna industry is shaped by people on deck and in the engine room, by salt, steam, diesel, deck machinery, net materials, refrigeration technology, and political negotiations, and carries the smell of used brine and geopolitics equally.

A Personalised History of the U.S. West Coast Tuna Industry is not merely a chronology of boats and brands. It is a study in access. Access to fish. Access to markets. Access to ports. Access to regulation. And, increasingly, access to survival in a world where fisheries biology, economics, and policy collide with ruthless indifference to each other.

The authors start where all fisheries must: with the raw material. No access, no fish. No fish, no cannery. No cannery, no brand. No brand, no industry. It is an elegantly simple equation — until the world intervenes.

Here are my lessons learned… but please read the original.

From Ice to Brine: Extending the Horizon

In the early 20th century, the tuna fishery off California was modest, almost intimate. Albacore were taken by small pole-and-line vessels operating within reach of shore. Ice was the limiting factor — both literally and economically. Fish could only be kept so long before decomposition turned profit into loss.

Then came brine freezing in the 1930s. Ammonia-cooled wells replaced ice. Trip length lengthened. Fishing grounds expanded southward. What appears to be a technical adjustment was, in fact, a structural transformation: technology dissolved geography.

This is the recurring theme of the book — every technological innovation changes not only efficiency but also power.

The fishery became less coastal and more industrial. And once the range extended, the next question was inevitable: how far can we go?

The Purse Seine Revolution

The Puretic power block and nylon nets in the 1950s transformed tuna fishing from artisanal harvest to industrial extraction. Cotton nets gave way to mechanised retrieval. Capacity exploded.

The IATTC data reproduced in the book show a surge in carrying capacity from the 1960s through the 1980s. Steel hulls replaced wooden ones. Shipyards in San Diego and Tacoma produced purse seiners like factories manufacture machinery.

And machinery was exactly that. Catch rates increased. Efficiency rose sharply. The fleet turned into a harvesting machine — until the shore-based infrastructure could no longer keep pace.

Cannery processing capacity is not infinitely elastic.

The Cannery: The Other Constraint

One of the most insightful parts of the book is not about fishing, but about processing. Canneries operate for 48–50 weeks each year. They are built for consistent throughput. Retorts, seamers, precookers, and thawing capacity — all fixed.

When purse seiners flooded the docks with frozen tuna in the 1980s, inventory management — not fish availability — became the bottleneck. Boats were ordered to tie up for 60 days after unloading.

That is a crucial insight. Overcapacity in fisheries is often discussed in biological terms, but here it is industrial logistics that regulates the fleet. Canned inventory value surpassed capital assets. Too much fish became a liability.

It was the market, not the ocean, that set the limit.

Law Shapes Geography: Jones and Nicholson

If technology broadens the range, then law redraws it.

The Jones Act (1920) limited coastwise shipping to vessels built and registered in the U.S. The Nicholson Act (1950) restricted foreign-built fishing vessels from docking directly at U.S. canneries — except in certain territories.

These laws subtly reshaped the geography of tuna processing.

Puerto Rico prospered under tax incentives (Section 936), but only U.S.-flag vessels were permitted to unload directly. American Samoa received a special exemption that allowed foreign vessels to land fish there and to ship canned products duty-free to the mainland.

Thus, the policy created an industrial shift. Canneries relocated overseas. By 2025, Puerto Rico’s tuna factories had all closed. Only one major cannery remained in American Samoa. Mainland operations transitioned to frozen loins imported from global precooking plants.

What started as a West Coast round-fish industry developed into a global loin-processing system.

Transhipment: The Invisible Artery

Few outside the industry appreciate the logistical ballet described in the chapter on Marine Chartering Company’s reefer fleet.

In the 1950s, tuna caught off Peru had to travel 4,000 miles to California. Grace Lines' cargo vessels were inefficient for frozen fish. MCC introduced small dedicated reefers. Ultimately, a global neutral freight network transported millions of tons of frozen tuna across oceans — from Peru to Puerto Rico, West Africa to Spain, Western Pacific to Pago Pago.

Transhipment is not glamorous, but it is crucial. It allowed fleets to stay on the grounds. It separated catching from processing. It facilitated the global reorganisation of tuna flows.

And when the neutral freight model was replaced by trader-controlled vessels, control of logistics shifted to control of sourcing and pricing.

Again: power shifts with infrastructure.

The 200-Mile Revolution

If the 1950s were a technological revolution, the 1970s/80s were a jurisdictional revolution.

The spread of 200-mile Exclusive Economic Zones fragmented the high seas into national jurisdictions.

Highly migratory tuna do not respect borders. But vessels must.

Suddenly, access required diplomacy. The American Tunaboat Association negotiated with foreign governments. Seizures occurred. Access agreements became essential. (Read here if keen to know more about this.)

And so RFMOs emerged — notably the IATTC in the Eastern Pacific.

But closures — such as the Yellowfin Regulatory Area — prompted fishermen to innovate spatially. The renowned “Outside the Line” grounds west of the Commission area became viable alternatives.

The fleet was adaptable. If fish were not available within regulated areas, they searched outside them.

This is another enduring lesson: regulation rarely ends fishing; it redistributes it.

Moving West

Veterans of WWII had observed skipjack schooling in the Western Pacific. In 1970, U.S. ships advanced into the Western Tropical Pacific near Palau.

The move was initially unsuccessful. Nets designed for dolphin-associated yellowfin in the Eastern Pacific were too shallow for deeper thermocline conditions. Japanese vessels, with deeper nets and advanced electronics, outperformed them.

The Pacific Fisheries Development Foundation (PFDF) was established to investigate hidden fisheries. Survey trips were conducted, and lessons were learned.

By the 1980s, Western Pacific fishing and American Samoa processing had become key components of the U.S. tuna industry.

Again: technology meets fisheries biology meets policy.

Food Safety: Invisible Discipline

Parallel to the evolution of fishing, there was also regulatory evolution on land.

From the California Cannery Inspection Act (1925) to the 12D botulism standard, from HACCP to histamine controls, the processing chapters of the book remind us that tuna is not merely a commodity — it is a food safety risk if mishandled.

Salt penetration, honeycomb formation, mercury levels, sodium reduction, and low-acid canned food regulations—each issue demanded a technical solution.

Fishing and processing are inherently linked. If fish heat during transhipment, histamine levels increase. If brine seeps unevenly into the muscle, the texture deteriorates. If concerns about mercury rise, consumer confidence declines.

The fishery persisted because the industry invested in resolving these issues.

Human Machinery

Perhaps the most compelling elements of the book are the vignettes — stories of boiler explosions in Samoa, of surly retort leadmen, of captains taking risks to fish in Peru, and of engineers tracing the foot of a 300-pound retort operator.

These stories are not merely decorative. They serve as reminders that fisheries are human systems. Decisions are made by people — sometimes impulsively. Machines explode. Nets tear. Governments change policy mid-season.

Behind every ton of tuna lies a web of human improvisation.

Rise and Decline of West Coast Canning

At its peak, dozens of canneries operated along the U.S. West Coast. By 2005, the last whole-fish cannery in San Pedro had closed. Production shifted to loins that were precooked overseas and imported for final packing.

The causes were well known: labour costs, foreign competition, transportation expenses, and trade regimes.

But beneath the economics lies a deeper structural shift: vertical disintegration. The old model — vessel to dock to cannery to brand — fractured. Catching, processing, and branding became geographically separated.

The U.S. tuna industry didn’t vanish. It reshaped itself.

Lessons in Systems

What does this century-long story teach me?

1. Access is political. Fishing grounds are negotiated spaces.

2. Technology outpaces governance. Every efficiency gain produces a regulatory response.

3. Processing capacity disciplines fleets. Biology is not the only constraint.

4. Logistics determines power. Who controls the transhipment controls value?

5. Industries globalise when cost structures demand it.

6. Human resilience underpins adaptation.

The tuna industry survived wars, EEZ revolutions, dolphin controversies, mercury scares, overcapacity crises, and globalisation. It did so not because it was static, but because it was adaptable.

And Now?

By 2025, the U.S. tuna processing footprint will be a shadow of its mid-century scale. But the system persists — reoriented around global loin supply chains, remaining territorial canneries, and distant-water fleets operating under RFMO regimes.

The book does not romanticise the past. It documents it — candidly, technically, occasionally humorously.

And it leaves us with a subtle but powerful realisation: fisheries are not just about fish. They are about alignment — between fisheries biology, engineering, regulation, logistics, labour, and markets.

When they align, the system hums. When they diverge, vessels tie up and factories close.

Tuna, the most migratory of fish, has borne witness to a century of industrial and political change. The story of the U.S. West Coast tuna industry is therefore not confined to local matters — it reflects a broader picture of global fisheries development.

Steel hulls. Nylon nets. Steam retorts. 200-mile lines. Reefer vessels. Tax codes. Scout planes. Observer programmes.

All in pursuit of a straightforward goal stated early in the book: to provide a wholesome, nutritious protein to people.

The journey from ocean to supermarket shelf is anything but simple. And that is precisely why this history matters.

We need to start seeying dFADs as a waste crisis in the WCPO

As I mentioned last week, I have been in Tahiti at the International Workshop on Mitigation of FAD Loss and Abandonment in the Pacific Ocean. It has been a great and impactful experience. Since participating in the climate change in fisheries workshops in 2024, I haven’t been challenged by facts as I was in this workshop.

While I’m pleased to see our fishery remains stable and sustainable in terms of stocks, our challenges with IUU fishing being well controlled and among the lowest globally, and with labour issues being addressed progressively, I once again have the feeling of observing a slow-motion train crash.

This is a programme that affects all of us here and many more who are not here. They say there is no free lunch… and it is true… this is the bill for the massive increase in efficiency that FADs brought to the PS fishery.

Beyond their obvious role in modern tuna fisheries, dFADs have a range of unintended environmental and socio-economic consequences that extend well beyond the moment of deployment.

In the WCPO, we estimate there are between 40,000 and 60,000 of these objects drifting east to west along the equator — and yes, we don’t really know the exact number, which is the first part of the problem — and while most are concentrated within 10 degrees of it, we find them all the way down to 25 to 30 degrees south and north. 

The enormous year-to-year fluctuations in dFAD numbers mean that even relatively low loss rates result in a significant buildup of floating gear that drifts out of fishing zones and eventually washes up on shores or coral reefs.

When a dFAD makes landfall or tumbles onto a reef, it does more than simply litter the landscape: it can transform into a source of chronic habitat degradation. Still, most of the tails are built with synthetic netting and salt bags designed to extend deep into the water column; when they strand in shallow coastal waters or reef flats, that netting continues to destroy coral and entangle marine life long after the fisheries vessel that deployed the device has left the area.

These additional impacts on nearshore habitats are already compounded by multiple stressors from climate change and local resource use.

Coastal communities in the Pacific bear the brunt of these impacts in tangible ways. Stranded dFADs wash up on beaches, in lagoons, and among coral bommies, where they must be physically removed to protect subsistence fishing grounds, tourism assets, and aesthetic values.

We were presented with numerous examples of their destructive potential: images of dFAD long tails along the reef, with the raft and buoy washed up on the beach, broken buoys with batteries leaking, and so on.

Local authorities and voluntary groups in the islands have limited resources to collect and dispose of these objects; on some islands, ongoing citizen science and reporting initiatives are the only means of documenting and addressing the issue.

The examples we discussed highlight that the “externalities” of industrial tuna fishing extend beyond the offshore environment and also affect the ways of life and economies of island nations.

A dFAD deployed months earlier to improve fishing efficiency often becomes marine debris with ecological consequences. And while we have made advances in design (e.g., biodegradable materials) and in regional cooperation in reporting, retrieval, and accountability… We are still far from meaningfully tackling this problem.

The root cause is that dFADS are now ubiquitous, and intense competition among the three main manufacturers of sonar buoys (Marine Instruments, Zunibal, and Satlink) has made them inexpensive and very effective.

A rough calculation suggests that, if you make the dFAD body from biodegradable materials (best-case scenario) and add a latest-generation sonar buoy, set it up, let it drift, and after a couple of weeks, you catch 3 to 4 tonnes of skipjack (which is a VERY small set), you’ll pay for the whole dFAD. Anything above it is earnings… so the incentive of recovering it, if it drifts beyond a certain distance from the vessel, is gone. Since the cost of fuel and the loss of fishing time are much higher than the cost of the dFAD (particularly once it has been fished, it is not cost-effective to recover it and is easy to let it sink or abandon.

To complicate things, as dropping and recovering FADs is defined as fishing, if they drift into an area where you have no licences (or vessel days), then you are acting “illegally” even if you are trying to do the right thing… thankfully, this could be the easiest issue to fix.

However, once you delve into the legal language, dFADs are difficult to define and may be regarded as MARPOL violations, hazards to navigation, or fishing gear. One of the interesting exercises we undertook was to define 'lost', 'abandoned', and 'discarded' because intentionality is a key issue that is difficult to establish.

But for me, beyond the definitions and legal arguments, the reality is that the life cycle of dFADs is not a “new problem”; it is a waste issue. 

My personal view is that we are treating it as a “waste management” issue, centred on disposal and limited recycling, which happens at the end of the problem and shifts the burden onto those who did not cause it… and this is simply not right.

So we need to see it from the perspective of “reverse logistics” that differs from traditional waste management in that it adds a “value” to recovering and repurposing products and routes while respecting the internationally recognised UNCLOS principle that the country to which a fishing vessel belongs is responsible for all the actions of the vessel, including the waste produced by that vessel.

I think we should consider a targeted “waste-bond” system that combines a deposit on new dFAD with a recoverable payment for verified retrievals, creating a market signal that turns abandoned gear into an asset rather than waste.

There are already international experiences in developing a waste bond system payable at the time of permitting activities. In the case of fisheries, this includes licensing, registering FADs, and related activities.

This ‘dFAD bond’ should involve fishing vessels for dFAD bodies and sonar buoy producers for their units, as they are directly involved in the issue.

Sure, it would be great to have the canners and traders involved… yet there is very little leverage to get them in… and in principle, cost can be added to the price sold to them as one option, or they can choose to buy dFAD-free (non-associated) fish in the same way that vessels can choose to do that as well.

Of course, this will increase fish prices, as a premium would need to be involved, yet I know premiums are volatile… Currently, most canned tuna buyers prefer MSC-certified tuna over FAD-free tuna. However, some traders encounter specific customers who request FAD-free options. In such cases, a premium is usually paid to the fishing vessel for implementing onboard catch separation. The FAD-free premium typically ranges from USD 50-100 per tonne. 

However, as I will discuss later … MSC may also have a role, their Principle 2 – Ecosystems considerations, which dFADs are very much part of it, they could have the requirement to be part of the dFAD waste bond fund (after all, until a decade ago, dFAD fish wasn’t certifiable) is not something they couldn’t do again if they want to

Yet these days, MSC premiums are negligible because they have lobbied distributors and retailers in rich countries to make it a standard market requirement, and almost all purse seiners in the WCPO are covered under an MSC certification. If an MSC premium is being offered, it would be around USD 20-50.

(My views on the neocolonial nature of private certification are more than well documented… rich countries’ consumers should not trust the sustainability claims of Pacific Islands governments or their bodies, so certification bodies from rich countries need to provide that certification)

But as I said before, the price for dFADs is now borne by the environment and the communities in the Pacific islands… which are the ones that are less involved in PS fishing.

While I’m aware this is a theoretical exercise for now, and we need to test legal, logistical, and financial mechanisms for

1. incentivising responsible design and deployment,

2. enabling community-based collection and reimbursement, and

3. establishing an accountable chain of custody for reused or recycled materials…

I’m old enough to remember when PNA’s VDS was also an “idea”… and look at it now

Based on the vessels' operational and size characteristics, a reasonable estimate of loss expectancy can be used to calculate the required dFAD bond. Many factors must be considered when setting the bond amount, including practical, economic, and political considerations.

The FAD bond would be held in escrow, possibly using a standard commercial mechanism, and renewed annually for each licence period or as needed. Vessels that repeatedly fail to manage their FAD may lose their bond, and that money could be allocated to a different FAD recovery programme.

The initial numbers in SPC’s analysis talked of around 1000 to 2000 USD per recovery, with the variability based on the different types of systems and scenarios

So, we could imagine a system where we have a deposit + recovery payment (waste-bond)

• Deposit: Per-dFAD fee applied at point of registration (collected in equal parts from buoy/fleet owners, vessel operators and manufacturers) and the bond is held in a managed pilot fund.

• Recovery payment: Verified retrievals (stranded or drifting but recovered) are eligible for a payment drawn from the fund. Payment should exceed local collection costs to ensure participation (e.g., cover transport + a margin). The payment scale could be tiered: higher payments for reef/nearshore retrievals (harder and greater ecological benefit), lower payments for open-water recovery.

• Bond mechanics: If an owner demonstrates recovery (proof of retrieval), part or all of their deposit is returned; if the dFAD is not recovered within a defined period, or if the dFAD is abandoned, the deposit funds are allocated to support local recovery/processing and community incentives.

Then a Verification and chain of custody

• ID & registration: All participating dFAD buoys must carry unique, tamper-resistant IDs and be registered in a central registry.

• Proof of retrieval: EM or Photographic evidence (geotagged), GPS buoy transfer logs, observer records, handing in to authorised collection points, or verified collection by trained community teams.

• Processing points: Designated collection hubs receive material, separate buoy electronics (for reuse), and route netting/components to designated recycling or repurposing partners.

So the reverse-logistics flow could be:

1. Deployment → buoy registered → deposit paid.

2. If lost/stranded, the community or the retrieval team collects it and transports it to the collection hub.

3. Hub verifies, logs, and issues a recovery payment to the collector, and, if appropriate, returns a deposit (or a partial refund) to the registered owner.

4. Reusable components repurposed or sent to a recycler; non-reusable waste to be transported back to the flag state to be disposed of per environmental standards.

And fundamentally, we need to agree on Governance, roles and responsibilities, so here are some ideas

• Regional coordination: WCPFC/SPC or a regional body to provide a regulatory framework, technical guidance, harmonise reporting, and provide legal templates.

• National governments: Host pilots, manage local permits, approve collection hubs, administer funds or appoint fund manager.

• Industry partners (fishing companies, buoy manufacturers): Participate in deposit payment, register buoys, and engage in co-funding and design improvements.

• Local communities/NGOs: Collection teams, verification, awareness campaigns, and hub operations.

• Ecolabels: having as part of their standards (for example, in MSC Principle 2 – Ecosystems considerations) the requirement to be part of the dFAD fund. (after all, until a decade ago, dFAD fish wasn’t certifiable) so is not something new they could do.

• Third-party administrator/trustee: Financial management of deposits, payments, and audit functions (could be a regional organisation, financial advisor or trust).

• Donors/development partners: Seed funding for deposits, capacity building, and initial hub setup.

As if all the above were not complicated enough. This all has to fit under a Legal & policy framework that incorporates

• Compatibility with national laws: Ensure deposit collection and fund use align with customs, tax and fisheries regulations.

• Ownership & liability: Clarify ownership of recovered gear and liabilities.

• Incentives versus perverse outcomes: Avoid incentives that encourage deliberate recoveries to claim payments (strong verification is required).

• Data/privacy: Buoy registration and tracking data protocols must maintain the present confidentiality and proprietary tracking arrangements.

Yet, given that the key buoy manufacturers are all Spain-based, they may need to comply with the EU’s Waste from Electrical and Electronic Equipment (WEEE) regulations and other Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR) laws that hold producers financially or physically responsible for the entire lifecycle of their products, particularly those that require separate collection and recycling targets, and mobilising reverse logistics across entire product categories.

Compliance with these principles could also be required, as market conditions are today, in the same way that catch and health certificates are today (see my publication for FFA on this). Particularly, the Directive (EU) 2024/1760 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 13 June 2024 on corporate sustainability due diligence (CSDDD) is worth mentioning here, as this legislation will be implemented gradually over the next few years, imposing mandatory human rights and environmental due diligence requirements on large EU and non-EU corporations operating in the EU.

These companies must take steps to manage actual and potential adverse impacts of their activities on human rights and environmental matters arising from :

1. their own operations,

2. the operations of their subsidiaries, and

3. the operations of their business partners in their chain of activities.

The "chain of activities" does not encompass the disposal of products or the activities of a company's downstream business partners related to the company's services. However, it does cover:

1. The activities of the company's upstream business partners related to the production of goods or the provision of services by the company (including the design, extraction, sourcing, manufacture, transport, storage, and supply of raw materials, products, or product components, and the development of products or services).

2. The activities of a company's downstream business partners related to the distribution, transport, and storage of the product, in which the partners perform those activities for the company or on its behalf.

The primary due diligence obligations under the CSDDD are "obligations of means", not "obligations of result".

Companies are not expected to guarantee that adverse impacts will not occur, nor will they always be prevented. However, they are expected to take "appropriate measures": measures capable of achieving due diligence objectives.

Finally, I’m the 1st one that is VERY aware that this is all easier said than done and will require coordination, time, effort and money, but we have precedents in solid waste (MARPOL) and the Basel Convention on the Transboundary Movement of Hazardous Wastes, so we don’t need to reinvent the wheel. Yet we need to find a solution for these problems, if we wish to maintain any legitimacy as a responsible industry

Additionally, we could also consider this from an insurance perspective and the obligations under UNCLOS…. But I’ll leave these for another day.

From Fishing Grounds to Shorelines: Rethinking dFAD Loss and Recovery in the Pacific

I have been fascinated by the impact that drifting Fish Aggregating Devices (dFADs with sonar buoys) have had on the purse seine fishery since I was fishing in the 90s. It has significantly changed the fishery, and I've written extensively about it in the past.

The usual end of lifecycle of a dFAD (picture by @SPC)

While I have worked on assessing plastic waste generation from fishing vessels in the WCPO, I have not written extensively about one of the most persistent and complex challenges facing tropical tuna fisheries: the “other impact” of FADs, namely the loss and abandonment of drifting FADs

This week, I'm in Papeete, Tahiti, for an ambitious and timely international workshop on the subject, organised by SPC and ISSF.

They are getting people from the fishing industry, regional fisheries bodies, scientists, technology providers, NGOs, governments, and coastal communities to work together. The goal of the workshop is to go beyond diagnosis and develop practical, scalable approaches to reduce dFAD loss and increase recovery rates across the Pacific.

The workshop will go for four days and is meant to connect fishing grounds and shorelines. It recognises that losing dFADs is not just a problem for vessels and regulations at sea; it also has real effects on the environment, society, and economy of coastal ecosystems and island communities.

The first day will set the stage for analysis by looking into why dFADs are lost or left behind. Sessions look at how dFAD design and materials have changed over time, keep an eye on new technologies and fishing methods, and show new evidence of loss corridors and buoy trajectories in both the Eastern and Western Central Pacific.

We will examine both the legal frameworks and certification requirements, as well as industry perspectives. This hopefully brings up both regulators' expectations and the realities of running a business. Significantly, stakeholder perspectives—obtained via regional surveys and collaborative exercises—ground the technical discussions in empirical experience.

On day two, the focus will change from offshore dynamics to coastal effects. Participants will look at how stranded dFADs affect reefs, shorelines, and people's lives in the Pacific, Indian, Atlantic, and Caribbean regions. They will also look at how in situ data collection and monitoring programs are being created and put into action.

Peer-to-peer exchanges will help us share what we've learned about recovery operations, getting people involved in the community, and the problems that come with long-term monitoring on remote islands. At the end of the day, there will be talks about how to improve monitoring of stranding events and their effects on the environment, especially in delicate habitats like coral reefs.

The third day will be all about solutions. There will be a wide range of recovery programs on display and under critical review, from community-based FAD watch programs to industry-funded recovery schemes and pilot trials. These experiences add to bigger talks about how to make dFAD retrieval programs work, including how to make them cost-effective, how to set up incentives, and how to measure success. We look into new ways to do things, like deposit-refund systems, repurposing buoys, recycling pathways, and dedicated recovery funds. We're especially interested in making sure that small island developing states don't have to bear too much of the burden.

The workshop will conclude with a visit to the fishing port of Papeete (where I began my Pacific fishing career in 1991). This will connect the discussion to the real world. This last day drives home a key point of the meeting: that long-term solutions to dFAD loss must be technically sound, economically viable, and based in the communities that are most affected.

In general, I think this Tahiti workshop is more about practical alignment than theoretical commitments. We want to create a path to a more responsible and truly sustainable dFAD fishery in the Pacific by bringing together all the people who are involved in the dFAD lifecycle, from design and deployment to loss, stranding, and recovery.

And needless to say, I am truly grateful to Lauriane Escalle from SPC and Gala Moreno from ISSF for inviting me to participate in this event, which is supported by The World Bank, Problue, Direction des Ressources Marines (DRM), ISSF, IATTC, The Nature Conservancy, The Palmyra FAD Watch Program, American Tunaboat Association, Bolton Food, Tri Marine, Satlink, Zunibal, Marine Instruments, and Tunacons. Special thanks go to DRM and Thibaut Tellier for their local assistance and organisation.

Tuna Industry and Trade Dynamics in the Western and Central Pacific Ocean

Here is another update to this seminal FFA publication… I remember the 1st version commissioned by my good departed friend, Hugh Walton, in 2011 and written by Amanda Hamilton and the now departed Anthony Lewis, plus Mike McCoy, Liam Campling and Elizabeth Havice being the last 3 ones continuing authors of the present opne

The publication offers a detailed analysis of the tuna industry and trade patterns in the WCPO. It explores key players in the international tuna market, emerging environmental, social, and governance (ESG) trends, trade policy developments, and their implications for Pacific Island Countries (PICs).

I just get some of the basics I like, and the ones I don't… Yet, as noted, it is a critical publication that one should read in its entirety to have any credibility when discussing tuna fisheries in the region.

Key Players in the Tuna Industry

The global tuna industry is led by a few major players, known as the "Big Four," which include Bolton Food & Tri Marine, Thai Union & Chicken of the Sea, FCF & Bumble Bee, and Dongwon Industries & StarKist. These companies are highly competitive, vertically integrated, and have diverse portfolios in seafood and other sectors. They depend on efficient access to raw materials and competitive prices to stay profitable.

1. Bolton Food & Tri Marine: Bolton Food is a family-owned company with a strong presence in Europe, Latin America, and the US. It owns several premium tuna brands, including Rio Mare, Saupiquet, and Wild Planet. Tri Marine, acquired by Bolton in 2019, is a global tuna trading company with operations in the Solomon Islands. Together, Bolton Food & Tri Marine have established a vertically integrated supply chain, ensuring sustainable fishing practices and delivering substantial economic benefits for the Solomon Islands.

2. Thai Union & Chicken of the Sea: Thai Union is the world’s largest ambient tuna processor, with factories in several countries, including Thailand, Indonesia, Vietnam, and the US. It owns brands such as Chicken of the Sea, John West, Petit Navire, and Mareblu. Thai Union is recognised for its sustainability efforts, including its SeaChange 2030 strategy, which emphasises environmental and social responsibility. Despite its global presence, Thai Union faces challenges stemming from declining consumer spending in the US and the effects of new tariffs.

3. FCF & Bumble Bee: FCF is a major marine products trading company with strong links to the Taiwanese fleet. It owns Bumble Bee, a leading North American seafood brand, and has made significant investments in processing facilities across the Pacific, including plants in Papua New Guinea (PNG) and Fiji. FCF has faced scrutiny over labour and environmental practices but has introduced programmes to address these concerns, including social responsibility initiatives and sustainability certifications.

4. Dongwon Industries & StarKist: Dongwon Industries is South Korea’s largest deep-sea fishery company, owning vessels and processing plants worldwide. It acquired StarKist in 2008, which is the leading shelf-stable tuna brand in the US. StarKist operates a large processing plant in American Samoa, benefiting from duty-free access to the US market. Dongwon has also invested in processing facilities in Ecuador and Senegal, expanding its global presence.

In addition to the Big Four, Chinese companies are increasingly important in the tuna industry. Companies such as Shanghai Kaichuang Marine International, Zhejiang Ocean Family, and Liancheng Overseas Fishery (Shenzhen) Group have expanded their presence in the WCPO, leveraging government support and joint ventures with Pacific Island nations. These companies are vertically integrated, with investments in fishing fleets, processing plants, and trading operations.

The Philippines also plays a vital role in the tuna industry, with companies like RD Corporation and Frabelle Group operating as vertically integrated businesses. ​RD Corporation has led onshore tuna processing in PNG, while Frabelle Group has set up fishing and processing operations in the WCPO and PNG.​

Emerging companies like Dayang Seafood Ltd., a Taiwanese firm, are also establishing their presence in the industry. Dayang operates purse seine vessels in the WCPO and has invested in a processing facility on Kosrae.

Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) Trends

The publication emphasises the increasing significance of ESG trends in the tuna industry. Environmental sustainability and social accountability have become essential parts of the business, driven by pressure from major markets, buyers, and NGOs. Companies are progressively implementing dedicated ESG programmes, public sourcing commitments, and traceability systems.

These advances appear to be achieved only through private certifications; here, as may be expected, I disagree not with the authors but with the principles that the present systems imply.

They discuss the impact that the Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) has on the fishery... As someone who works with fisheries officers, I see things from the other side — the effect the fishery has on MSC.

A fishery can be certified becasue is sustainable; it is not sustainable because it is certified.

The framing of this discourse suggests that private certifications enhance environmental sustainability and social accountability, but they do not. It is primarily the Pacific Islands and their organisations, such as SPC, PNA, and FFA, that undertake the real work… while private certification. ro the rubberstamping

The whole existence of private certification based in rich Western countries is based on the colonial and racist principle that you cannot trust poor brown people, so organisations based in rich white countries have to come and certify this… otherwise it is not true. Furthermore, it is the producers who must pay for this, not the wealthy people who want the fish because they overfished their own.

For example, the bulk of the work for MSC Principles 1 and 2 (focusing on maintaining sustainable, productive fish stocks and minimising environmental impacts) is done by the Oceanic Fisheries Programme (OFP) of SPC, while Principle 3 focus on effective management system that respects local, national and international laws and standards and incorporates institutional and operational frameworks… wich is what all the pacific fisheries admintrations do, even if the evaluators only used the data provided by the clients.

The real work is mostly performed by the same people who cannot be trusted, and then certified by certification bodies that are paid by the industry; MSC receives a share of all sales that bear its logo.

FIPs are even worse, as they morph the obligations into a situation where companies and flag states are seen as having voluntary commitments, and they are allowed to improve over time… instead of clearly stating: this is an obligation, and if you cannot prove that you are complying with it in its entirety, you cannot fish here. 

I have written to oblivion on this and the even worse menace of private certifications for labour standards…. Independently, we are the only region in the world that tied fishing access to minimum labour standards through the FFA HMTC for licensing and the forthcoming WCPFC Labour Standards CMM.

Earlier this year, I attended a presentation by Marcelo Hidalgo on the numerous private certifications and initiatives to which the PNG Fishing Industry Association adheres (likely at high cost to its members). I'm unsure whether any fishery in Europe could fulfil all those requirements… And why. Is it because of PNG? More importantly, I have not found any study suggesting that they earn more than other countries because they adhere to those standards.

For me, the whole private certification world is a racketeering scheme based on deep-seated colonialism. I see my friends and colleagues in the Pacific working REALLY hard… doing a great job… yet the whole setup is that their efforts are not to be believed unless “certified” by an organisation from a rich colonial country.

On more positive topics

It’s encouraging to see that climate change is on the agenda: companies are developing decarbonisation strategies to mitigate its impacts.  Thai Union, Bolton Group, and Dongwon Industries have set ambitious targets to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and achieve net-zero emissions by 2050.

It would be useful to review their strategies regarding MARPOL, as we investigated their plastic dumping in 2021, and the figures are staggering.

With respect to traceability and transparency, private and third-party traceability systems are increasingly prevalent in tuna value chains. Traceability is part of the remit of both fisheries and seafood authorities in every Pacific Island country. Yet again has to be approved by someone from the other side of the world for it to be true and demonstrable

Trade Policy Developments

The publication also examines the influence of trade policies on the tuna industry, emphasising tariff arrangements, rules of origin, and changing trade policies.

Tariff Structures: The EU and US are the largest markets for canned tuna, with tariff peaks of 24% and 35% respectively, to protect local producers. Preferential trade arrangements, such as the EU’s Economic Partnership Agreements (EPAs) and the US Compact of Free Association Act, provide duty-free access to specific markets, influencing the distribution of tuna production.

Rules of Origin: Rules of origin (RoO) determine whether products qualify for preferential access to trade. The EU’s "global sourcing" RoO, negotiated in the 2007 Interim Economic Partnership Agreement (IEPA), allows Pacific Island countries to source fish from any vessel, provided it is processed locally. This flexibility has benefited PNG, Solomon Islands, and Fiji, enabling them to access the EU market for canned tuna and loins.

Evolving Trade Policies: Labour and environmental standards are increasingly integrated into trade agreements. The EU’s Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive (CSDDD) is a forthcoming trade requirement intended to improve sustainability and labour conditions in global supply chains. However, these measures also create compliance burdens for Pacific Island countries.

Finally, it irks me a bit that market access and market success are conflated; market access is the minimum requirement to enter a particular market with your products. For example, for the EU, you must first be an authorised country from a sanitary perspective; then, every consignment entering the EU requires a health certificate and a catch certificate issued by the competent authorities of the country of origin… no private certifications from MSC to ISO are needed… only those of the state…. For the US, being in SIMP is what is required, and so on (written about this here)

Now, MSC, BRC, FoS, CREW... and you could include 20 more... are all private certifications that a buyer in Europe might request. Since you want to sell them, you pay for these certifications, which can help you achieve market success. However, they are NOT part of the official market access requirements.

Around 80-90% or more of the tuna consumed in Europe and the USA is caught outside their waters and supplied via imports... and from that I will say that 60-70% is from the WCPO. What do you think will happen if all of the producers stop paying for private certifications… Will people stop eating tuna? Will canneries stop canning? Will vessels stop fishing?

Of course not… everything will continue as it is… and all private certifications will disappear…

Overall, the publication emphasises the unique position of PICs in the global tuna value chain.  As resource owners, PICs possess significant leverage but encounter challenges in capturing more value from the industry.

It’s not just about fishing, is also geopolitics.

I have insisted for the last couple of decades that the biggest shift I’ve seen in my 40 years of fishing is that it used to be about catching fish to be eaten by people… while now a whole parallel dynamic is at play: geopolitics.

The main issue I have with Distant Water Fishing Nations (and their subsidies) is that they blur the boundary between commercial activity and geopolitics…. and generally the consequences are paid by others.

The principle that “presence equals rights” is fundamental to how nations establish, maintain, and defend their interests in disputed areas. It embodies the idea that ongoing activity in a specific region grants a state or other actor "rights" in that territory or activity, often overriding legal claims or international standards.

Therefore, fishing is no longer solely about catching fish.

Here is an example from FFA’s excellent “Trade and Industry News,” which is worth subscribing to, and, in addition, it relates to a country very close to my work (and heart), the Marshall Islands.

In late October 2025, the USA suddenly reclassified tuna caught in the Marshall Islands EEZ and exported to the US as Chinese origin. The practical effect is severe: a sudden 45–55% import tariff on tuna, which had long been considered a Marshallese product.

What makes this move especially upsetting is that it directly undermines established fisheries governance, since, for over a decade, the WCPFC has been clear in terms of the reporting of those catches:

In the Conservation and Management Measure for Bigeye, Yellowfin, and Skipjack Tuna (CMM 2023-01, para. 8), it is stated that, ‘...attribution of catch and effort shall be to the flag state, except that catches and effort of vessels notified as chartered under CMM 2021-04 or its replacement shall be attributed to the chartering member….’, 

The new US position simply disregards that consensus—at least for trade purposes—raising uncomfortable questions about how fisheries management, trade policy, and geopolitics are now conflicting.

The government of the Marshall Islands has strongly pushed back. Its Foreign Minister formally lodged an objection to US Customs, reportedly without response, while MIMRA publicly recognised the serious economic risks to jobs, revenue, and domestic industry. The impact is real. 

The issue directly affects Marshall Islands Fishing Venture (MIFV), a long-established Majuro-based operation that anchors a regional longline supply chain exporting high-value bigeye and yellowfin to the US and Japan.

At the time of writing, the issue remains unresolved. However, what is clear is that this involves far more than tariffs. It reveals how fragile small island economies can be when dominant trading partners unilaterally alter the rules—and how swiftly decades of carefully negotiated fisheries governance can be sidelined by trade politics.

For the Marshall Islands, the stakes are existential: market access, livelihoods, and the credibility of the rules-based system they have adhered to for years.

Now…MIFV is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Luen Thai International Group in China. MIFV has been in continuous operation in RMI for 25 years and currently operates a processing facility adjacent to MIMRA that processes longline-caught fish in the RMI EEZ, with a fleet of approximately 30 vessels, mostly flagged in China, with a few flagged in FSM. The vessels are owned by Liancheng Overseas Fishery Group (Shenzen) Co. Ltd. or one of its subsidiaries, all of which are part of the parent company, Luen Thai.

The fleet based in Majuro targets yellowfin and bigeye tuna in RMI’s EEZ for export to the US, Japan, and other markets. In 2024, RMI’s longline tuna catch was 4,049 mt, consisting of 51% bigeye, 42% yellowfin and 7% albacore.6 Exported products include whole tuna and fresh/frozen loins, including loins treated with carbon monoxide. The Majuro operation forms an integral part of the company’s supply chain that links RMI with other unloading and supply bases in Samoa, Pohnpei and occasionally Kosrae in FSM

Crucial here is that Shenzhen-based Liancheng Overseas Fishery (Shenzhen) Group (LCFG) a massive fisheries conglomerate, is the umbrella company under which its three subsidiaries, Liancheng Overseas Fishery (Shenzen) Co. Ltd, Liancheng Overseas Fishery (FSM) Co. Ltd (FMLC) and China Southern Fishery Shenzhen Co. Ltd operate tuna longline vessels in the WCPO.

Luen Thai’s Asia Pacific Airlines (APA), owner of MIFV, plays a vital role in LCFG’s fresh fish operations in the western Pacific through its air cargo services. Operating up to four 757 air freighters, APA facilitates the transportation of LCFG’s fish across Micronesia to markets in Japan, Hawaii, the US mainland, and beyond.

Reflagging those vessels to the Marshall Islands would resolve the issue, as the “customs” origin would then be fully RMI; however, geopolitical considerations enter.

RMi is a strong ally of Taiwan, and its foreign policy aligns with the compact agreement (a kind of US commonwealth) with the USA. Although RMI and China have no official relations, up to 30 Chinese-flagged vessels operate in the RMI EEZ, which is a sore point for TW and a strong card for China (remember, if you have presence, you have rights). 

Furthermore, having those vessels flagged to RMI will entail upgrading many of their safety requirements and classification certificates, thus imposing costs on the operators.

Yet fundamentally, they will lose the generous fuel subsidies they currently receive, which are disguised as tax exemptions at headquarters in China.

Trade rules are quite fickle, as many variables from both the receiving and the originating countries influence trade agreements and development status. Yet, as a gross generalisation, a product is considered to originate in a country (like RMI) if it has been wholly obtained or sufficiently worked or processed with wholly or partly imported materials.

So here the details can be argued, not only through the chartering of vessels by an RMI company – MIFV (independent of the ownership), yet fishing only in the RMI EEZ (wholly obtained), but also to what extent fresh loins by plane to the USA constitute sufficiently worked or processed.

And while the fish have been passing through the USA for decades without issues, providing jobs for locals and Filipino immigrants alike, the current hostility between the US government and China directly affects a Pacific Island nation that does not cause the problems and merely seeks to benefit from the only gifts nature has bestowed — a well-managed ocean and a good port.

So again… It’s not just about fishing, it's also geopolitics.

Fisheries Surveillance Requires Context, Not Merely Data

Further from a blog from a couple o fweeks ago where i tranalated an article on “Desk Experts” by my colleage Captain Sergio Almada, the Coordinator of Argentina’s Interdisciplinary Working Group for the Control of Maritime Areas and their Resources that depends on the country’s “Prefectura – PNA” (Coast Guard), from which he retired as a senior officer of patrol and surveillance vessels.

I was asked by a colleague at Atuna, a well-known and respected subscription-based tuna news site, to produce a 500-word expert viewpoint based on my blog.

I like information to be free, otherwise it becomes a privilege for those who can afford it.. Yet I also understand that they need to make a living, so I find a middle ground by making my writing accessible for free. So here is the article, for whatever it is worth.

Fisheries Surveillance Requires Context, Not Merely Data

In recent years, platforms that collect vessel tracking data have become increasingly important for understanding tuna and other fishing activities at sea. Tools and dashboards based on the automatic identification system (AIS) offer more insights into ship movements than ever before. They can report suspected fishing, encounters, transhipment events, port arrivals, and even inferred effort.

While reliable, these technologies are not perfect and should not be the sole basis for policy or enforcement decisions

There is a clear trend in the tuna world of producing opinion-based news and even academic papers using AlS data, which primarily show where vessels go and when, with other data and opinions to 'sketch in' a fuller picture on numerous topics. These range from the activities of distant water fishing nations in the high seas, the impact of having ratified the Agreement on Port State Measures (PSMA) on port entries. to distance travelled and labor rights, to cite some examples

On top of this trend, there is a rise of what some call 'desk experts', which highlights the complexity of this issue. Well-meaning and motivated analysts, often lacking experience on a fishing vessel, interpret remote monitoring data without fully understanding how fishing operations work. They might see patterns in AIS data and quickly assume illegal activity. When such analyses are uncritically repeated - particularly on social media or in the non-specialist press - they can shape public perception of what actually occurs at sea.

The main issue stems from a misconception: that raw monitoring data can exist on its own. AIS transponders aim to prevent ship collisions and improve safety, not to enforce fisheries laws. AIS signals can have gaps, ambiguities, and biases, even for experienced analysts. For instance, a vessel staying near a fixed point might be weathering a storm rather than loitering. Ignoring weather conditions can lead to safe activities being misperceived as suspicious.

lt is also common to assume that two vessels meeting at sea automatically indicate a transhipment, but this is often incorrect. Such encounters might involve exchanging goods, food, crew, or spare parts. Determining the true context requires careful analysis of encounter duration, vessel equipment and type, weather conditions, and reported activities.

Overlooking these factors can lead to misreporting ·events· that are operationally legitimate.

Many analytical platforms use broad boundaries for exclusive economic zones (EEZs) that do not match official boundary lines. Sometimes datasets incorrectly identify jurisdictional borders, leading to the portrayal of lawful operations as illegal. For example, in the "Blue Hole" area, within the EEZs of Argentina and the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, boundary misalignments cause a coastal state's EEZ to extend into the high seas by several nautical miles - leading to ongoing misunderstandings about vessel activities.

This is not to downplay the importance of remote monitoring - quite the opposite. In the fight against IUU fishing, AIS-derived insights, satellite imagery and machine learning are essential tools. However, these tools need expert interpretation in context, field validation, cross-checking with the vessel monitoring system (VMS), and operational ground-truthing. Without this, we risk turning fishery surveillance into a game of digital illusions, where signals are mistaken for facts.

Ultimately, remote monitoring should be viewed as only one component of a comprehensive, evidence-based approach to fisheries management. We can utilise technology effectively, provided we base our data analysis on operational knowledge and verify findings with ground-truth sources.

The Western and Central Pacific Tuna Fishery: 2024 Overview and Status of Stocks

As usual at this time of the year, SPC’s flagship tuna publication, “The Western and Central Pacific Tuna Fishery: 2024 Overview and Status of Stocks,” is out.

The publication always has well-crafted graphs and tables (Plus now pictures, some of them mine). It has a few changes from the draft version prepared in time for the WCPFC Annual Meeting, and this final version, which got more thoroughly scrutinised, has some changes immediately apparent and others requiring closer reading. But the overall story is consistent, tuna stocks are doing well, and measures taken are improving some of the bycatch problems we have.

The news still talks about the collapse of tuna fisheries in the Pacific, that the (name your geopolitical nemesis, i.e., China, the US, Korea, Japan, EU, etc.) are taking all the fish, that the regional management organisations are secret, that we need eco-labels to know if fisheries are sustainable, and so on.

This document includes analyses of the fishery by species and fleet type, the impact of climate change, and much more. Like most things in life, there is good and bad news. Some things are going well, while others are not. However, if you look closely, you can see beyond the surface.

If you're reading this blog, it's probably because you're interested in tuna fisheries in the region. SPC is the data and science provider to the WCPFC and has some of the world's top stock assessment scientists. Therefore, this publication is essential reading for any informed discussion.

Overview of the Western and Central Pacific Tuna Fishery

The 2024 report provides a comprehensive assessment of the tuna fishery in the western and central Pacific Ocean, highlighting record catches and stock statuses.

Overview of Tuna Fishery Developments

• The 2024 catch reached 3,059,005 metric tonnes, a 15% increase from 2023.

• This catch represents 56% of the global tuna catch, which is estimated at 5,498,369 t for 2024.

• The fishery includes small-scale artisanal operations and large-scale industrial fisheries.

Tuna Catch by Gear Type in 2024

• Purse-seine accounted for 70% of the total catch at 2,146,139 t, marking the highest catch ever.

• Longline fishery contributed 8% with 247,350 t, a 6% increase from 2023.

• Pole-and-line fishery landed 139,405 t, 34% of its peak in 1984.

• Artisanal gear accounted for 17% of the total catch, reaching a record 518,840 t.

Tuna Catch by Species in 2024

• Skipjack tuna catch was 2,045,720 t, the highest ever, representing 67% of total catch.

• Yellowfin tuna catch was 741,473 t, 3% below the highest value recorded in 2021.

• Bigeye tuna catch was 151,611 t, 22% below its peak in 2004.

• Albacore tuna catch was 120,201 t, a 19% increase from 2023 but below its historical high.

Fishing Effort and Fleet Dynamics

• The number of active purse-seine vessels peaked at 313 in 2014-2015, with 59% flagged to Pacific Island countries in 2024.

• Longline fleet size decreased to 2,158 vessels, with a 12% increase in hooks fished to 666 million.

• Pole-and-line fleet continued to decline, with only 63 vessels remaining in 2024.

Status of Tuna Stocks Overview

• The report summarises the status of key tuna stocks, including skipjack, yellowfin, bigeye, and albacore.

• Assessments indicate that overfishing is not occurring for these stocks, although fishing pressure varies across regions.

Skipjack Tuna Stock Assessment

• The 2025 assessment indicates that recent fishing mortality is 0.35 times the level associated with maximum sustainable yield (MSY).

• Spawning biomass is estimated at 51% of the level predicted without fishing, well above the limit reference point (LRP).

• The stock is stable, with zero probability of dropping below the LRP under current fishing conditions.

Yellowfin Tuna Stock Assessment

• The 2023 assessment shows yellowfin catch at 741,473 t, with fishing mortality below MSY.

• Spawning biomass has levelled off since 2010, with no risk of breaching the LRP under average fishing conditions.

• Recent fishing mortality rates for both juvenile and adult fish have increased, but overfishing is not occurring.

Albacore Tuna Stock Assessment

• The South Pacific albacore catch in 2024 was 74,591 t, 21% below the 2017 record.

• The assessment indicates that fishing mortality is below MSY, and the stock is not overfished.

• Ongoing assessments are crucial for understanding stock dynamics and ensuring sustainable management.

Fishing Mortality and Stock Status of Tuna

Fishing mortality rates and stock status of key tuna species in the Western and Central Pacific Ocean (WCPO) indicate varying levels of sustainability and differing management needs.

• Fishing mortality and depletion levels differ by region, with the highest impact in tropical areas due to purse-seine fisheries. ​

• WCPFC is advised to reduce fishing mortality on yellowfin tuna, particularly from fisheries targeting juveniles, to enhance yields and protect spawning biomass. ​

• Structural uncertainties in stock assessments necessitate cautious interpretation of data for management decisions. ​

• SC19 recommends maintaining yellowfin tuna fishing mortality at levels that sustain spawning biomass at 2012-2015 levels until a target reference point (TRP) is established. ​

Bigeye Tuna Stock Assessment

The 2024 catch of bigeye tuna in the WCPFC-CA was significantly lower than historical highs, with a diverse catch distribution across fishing methods. ​

• Total bigeye catch in 2024 was 151,611 t, with 36% from longline and 33% from purse-seine fisheries. ​

• The majority of catches occur in equatorial areas, with significant juvenile catches from domestic fisheries in the Philippines and Indonesia.

• Recent assessments indicate that fishing mortality has increased since 1970 but is currently below maximum sustainable yield (MSY) levels. ​

• Spawning biomass is above the limit reference point (LRP), and the stock is not overfished or experiencing overfishing. ​

South Pacific Albacore Tuna Overview

The South Pacific albacore tuna catch in 2024 increased slightly but remains below historical highs, with longline fisheries accounting for the majority of the catch. ​

• Total catch in 2024 was 74,591 t, an 8% increase from 2023 but below the 2017 high of 94,499 t.

• Longline fishing accounts for 95% of the catch in recent years, primarily targeting larger adult albacore. ​

• The 2024 stock assessment indicates that the albacore stock is not overfished, with a median spawning biomass depletion of 0.48. ​

• Fishing mortality has been increasing, particularly for adults, but remains below MSY levels. ​

Summary of Target Tuna Stocks

All four target tuna stocks in the WCPO are currently assessed as healthy and sustainable, with no signs of overfishing. ​

• The stocks include skipjack, yellowfin, bigeye, and South Pacific albacore, all showing a 0% probability of overfishing. ​

• A Majuro plot illustrates the stock status, indicating that all stocks are above their respective MSY reference points.

• Uncertainty in stock status estimates is acknowledged, emphasising the need for ongoing monitoring and assessment. ​

Progress in Harvest Strategy Development

The WCPFC is making strides in developing harvest strategies for key tuna stocks, with varying levels of progress across species. ​

• CMM 2022-03 mandates the establishment of harvest strategies for key fisheries and stocks. ​

• Significant progress has been made for skipjack, with a management procedure adopted and implemented.

• South Pacific albacore and bigeye are still in the development phase for management procedures, with candidate TRPs identified for evaluation. ​

• The mixed fishery approach aims to align management objectives for yellowfin and bigeye tuna. ​

Tuna Tagging Initiatives

Large-scale tuna tagging efforts are crucial for enhancing stock assessment data and understanding fishery dynamics in the WCPO. ​

• Over 497,051 tunas have been tagged and released since 2006, with 69,667 reported recaptures. ​

• Tagging data is integrated into stock assessment models to improve estimates of fishery exploitation rates and population sizes. ​

Ecosystem Considerations in Fisheries

Observer coverage and bycatch data are essential for understanding the ecological impacts of tuna fisheries in the WCPO. ​

• Observer coverage for purse-seine fisheries is mandated at 100%, but actual coverage has fluctuated, peaking at nearly 65% in 2023. ​

• Bycatch rates differ between associated and unassociated purse-seine sets, with associated sets having a higher bycatch rate. ​

• Interactions with protected species, such as marine turtles and seabirds, are low, but increased observer coverage in longline fisheries is needed to improve data quality. ​

Climate and Ecosystem Indices

Climate change and ecosystem indicators are being monitored to assess their impacts on tuna fisheries and broader marine ecosystems. ​

• The El Niño Southern Oscillation (ENSO) significantly influences climate variability and tuna distribution in the Pacific. ​

• Sea surface temperatures (SSTs) in the WCPO have shown long-term warming, with 2024 an anomalously warm year. ​

• Marine heatwaves have increased in frequency and duration, potentially affecting marine ecosystems and tuna populations. ​

Projected Impacts of Climate Change

Climate change is expected to alter the distribution and abundance of key tuna species, with significant implications for fisheries management. ​

• Projections indicate a shift in tuna stocks towards the central and eastern Pacific Ocean due to climate change. ​

• Historical fishing pressure has reduced adult stocks by 30-55%, with climate change effects becoming more pronounced in the long term.

• The SEAPODYM modeling framework is being used to assess the impacts of climate change on tuna populations under different greenhouse gas emission scenarios. ​

Fishing Effort Indices for Tuna Gears

The data presents various indices of fishing effort for tuna in the western and central Pacific region from 1960 to 2024. ​

• Fishing effort is categorised by gear type: purse-seine, longline, and pole-and-line.

• Effort totals exclude specific domestic vessels from Japan, Indonesia, the Philippines, and Vietnam. ​

• Longline effort data prior to 1970 is considered unreliable and removed; pole-and-line data prior to 1972 is also excluded. ​

• The table shows a gradual increase in fishing effort over the years, with notable spikes in the 1970s and 1980s.

Skipjack Tuna Catch by Gear Type

The catch data for skipjack tuna by gear type in the WCPFC-CA from 1960 to 2024 indicate trends and changes in fishing practices. ​

• The total catch in 2024 is projected at 2,045,720 metric tonnes, with longline, pole-and-line, and purse-seine the main contributors.

• The highest catch recorded was in 1991 at 1,025,148 metric tonnes.

• The pole-and-line catch peaked in 1983 at 278,721 metric tonnes.

• The data shows fluctuations in catch over the years, with a general upward trend in recent decades.

Yellowfin Tuna Catch by Gear Type

The yellowfin tuna catch data from 1960 to 2024 highlights the distribution and trends in fishing practices. ​

• The total catch in 2024 is projected at 741,473 metric tonnes, with longline, pole-and-line, and purse-seine as the primary methods.

• The highest recorded catch was in 1991 at 465,436 metric tonnes.

• The longline catch peaked in 1996 at 91,887 metric tonnes.

• The data indicate a decline in catch in recent years compared to historical peaks.

Bigeye Tuna Catch by Gear Type

The bigeye tuna catch data from 1960 to 2024 illustrates the trends and changes in fishing practices for this species. ​

• The total catch in 2024 is projected at 151,611 metric tonnes, with longline as the dominant gear type.

• The highest recorded catch was in 1998 at 161,641 metric tonnes.

• The longline catch peaked in 1996 at 58,054 metric tonnes.

• The data shows variability in catch over the years, with a notable increase in the early 2000s.

Albacore Tuna Catch by Gear Type

Albacore tuna catch data from 1960 to 2024 provides insights into the species' fishing practices and trends. ​

• The total catch in 2024 is projected at 74,591 metric tonnes, with longline as the primary method.

• The highest recorded catch was in 1997 at 76,780 metric tonnes.

• The longline catch peaked in 2017 at 91,868 metric tonnes.

• The data indicate fluctuations in catch, with a general decline in recent years.

Biological Reference Points and Stock Status

The biological reference points and stock status for various tuna species provide insights into their sustainability and management. ​

• Recent spawning biomass for albacore is 341,308 metric tonnes, while for bigeye it is 672,600 metric tonnes.

• The maximum sustainable yield (MSY) for albacore is 101,100 metric tonnes, indicating that biomass is currently below MSY.

• The number of models used for assessments varies: albacore has 100 models, and skipjack has 300.

• The data highlights the need for effective management strategies to ensure sustainable tuna populations.

Tuna Tagging Projects Overview

The total number of tuna tagged during major projects provides insights into the research and monitoring efforts in the Pacific.

• The Pacific Tuna Tagging Programme (PTTP) has released 501,497 tags, while the Regional Tuna Tagging Programme (RTTP) released 69,650 tags.

• The Skipjack Survey and Assessment Programme (SSAP) released 151,667 tags.

• Tagging efforts are crucial for understanding tuna migration patterns and stock assessments.

Climate and Ecosystem Indices

The climate and ecosystem indices provide context for the environmental factors affecting tuna populations.

• The Oceanic Niño Index (ONI) indicates the strength and duration of ENSO events, which impact tuna habitats.

• Sea surface temperature anomalies are monitored to assess changes in ocean conditions affecting tuna stocks.

• The data highlights the relationship between climate change and tuna biomass projections, emphasising the need for adaptive management strategies.

Fisheries, RFMOs and the BBNJ Agreement

A lot has been made in the non-specialised media and in online forums about the adoption of the Agreement under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea on the Conservation and Sustainable Use of Marine Biological Diversity of Areas Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ Agreement).

The agreement does mark a historic milestone in global ocean governance as a landmark treaty to address critical gaps in the conservation and sustainable utilisation of marine biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction (ABNJ), more commonly known as the High Seas or International Waters.

In fact, I was recently asked to work on a paper examining the potential of MCS (Monitoring, Control, and Surveillance) mechanism over Marine Protected Areas in the High Seas, which is one of the tools the agreement provides for.

Yet I see many images associated with the news (fish, fishing boats, whales, etc.), suggesting that the agreement would be a solution to the woes of fisheries and that there are no tools or organisations at present dealing with any of it…. Which, of course, is not the case.

So I thought I would have a go at a blog that tries to summarise what it can do and what it does not do… and I emphasise the “can do” because having an agreement adopted is surely great, but implementation is the challenge… The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) is over 40 years old now… and we are still struggling to get flag states to implement and comply with what they agreed to do.

If you want a deep dive into the topic, check out this excellent publication by FAO Fisheries and the BBNJ Agreement – A guide. They do publish GOOD stuff, so it should be your first stop for most issues you want to understand. (One of the proudest days of my life was when my 1st FAO-commissioned book was published, and there have been a couple more since then, here and here.)

So for me, the 1st thing to get clear is that the BBNJ Agreement does not specify fisheries management measures, yet it introduces new processes and obligations that intersect with the mandates and operations of Regional Fisheries Management Organisations (RFMOs). And these interactions present both challenges and opportunities for RFMOs to contribute to and benefit from the evolving framework of ocean governance.

RFMOs are intergovernmental organisations established to manage fish stocks and promote sustainable fishing practices within specific regions of the high seas. They possess decades of expertise in science-based decision-making, stock assessments, spatial management, and compliance measures. It is crucial to emphasise once again that RFMOs are the entities responsible for managing fisheries in the high seas and are particularly well-equipped to support the objectives of the BBNJ Agreement, not the other way around.

This blog will explore the interactions between RFMOs and the BBNJ Agreement, emphasising how RFMOs can (and will) play a vital role in shaping and benefiting from the evolving framework of ocean governance.

But first:

Understanding the BBNJ Agreement and Its Objectives

The BBNJ Agreement was adopted in 2023 after nearly twenty years of negotiations. It establishes a global framework to conserve and sustainably manage marine biodiversity in ABNJ, which accounts for almost two-thirds of the world’s oceans. The Agreement highlights four main focus areas.

1. Area-Based Management Tools (ABMTs), including marine protected areas (MPAs).

2. Environmental Impact Assessments (EIAs) for activities that may cause significant environmental harm.

3. Capacity Building and Transfer of Marine Technology (CBTMT) to support equitable participation in biodiversity governance.

4. Marine Genetic Resources (MGR) and benefit-sharing mechanisms.

These focus areas aim to promote collaboration across sectors and integrated management, providing RFMOs with opportunities to further align their fisheries governance with biodiversity conservation objectives and vice versa.

The Role of RFMOs in ABNJ Governance

RFMOs are “the” essential entities in governing fisheries in ABNJ.

They are intergovernmental organisations established by international agreements to manage fish stocks and promote sustainable fishing practices in specific high-seas regions and the EEZs of member coastal countries.

They are found in nearly every ocean basin worldwide… other than the Southwest Atlantic. (which, in my opinion, goes a long way in explaining why that area is the fishing mess that it is)

The BBNJ Agreement explicitly recognises the importance of collaboration with relevant legal instruments, frameworks, and bodies, including RFMOs, which are classified as "relevant instruments, frameworks, and bodies" (IFBs). This recognition ensures that RFMO mandates are upheld and not compromised by the new biodiversity governance framework.

However, the Agreement also introduces new processes, such as area-based management tools (ABMTs), environmental impact assessments (EIAs), capacity building and transfer of marine technology (CBTMT), and marine genetic resource (MGR) benefit-sharing, which will require active involvement from RFMOs to promote coherence and mutual supportiveness between fisheries governance and biodiversity conservation.

Institutional and Implementation Framework ​

The BBNJ Agreement establishes several institutional bodies and tools to support its implementation, including the Conference of the Parties (COP), the Scientific and Technical Body (STB), the Implementation and Compliance Committee (ICC), and the Clearing-House Mechanism (CHM).

RFMOs will need to engage with these bodies to ensure that fisheries science, data, and governance experience inform biodiversity decisions and processes, and this is not a small issue… This means that they will need more resources and staff with the right experience and qualifications.

The STB, as a central advisory body, will offer expert guidance on science and technology, including EIAs, ABMTs, and MGRs. RFMOs can provide data, conduct peer reviews, and facilitate knowledge exchange to ensure that fisheries science and traditional knowledge are integrated into broader biodiversity governance.

The ICC will encourage adherence to BBNJ Agreement obligations through dialogue, transparency, and support. RFMOs can share their experiences with compliance tools and challenges to help shape fair, practically feasible compliance mechanisms. And here is a study I contributed to on how to MCS the MPA in the ABNJ, if it is of interest.

The CHM will act as a central platform for information sharing, promoting transparency, coordination, and data accessibility. RFMOs can participate in developing the CHM to ensure fisheries data is shared securely and fairly, with clear guidelines and mutual trust.

Interactions Between RFMOs and the BBNJ Agreement

Supporting Area-Based Management Tools (ABMTs)

ABMTs are spatially explicit regulatory or management measures designed to oversee human activities within defined marine areas to support biodiversity conservation, sustainable resource use, and conflict mitigation.

The BBNJ Agreement sets out a process for identifying, designating, and managing ABMTs, including marine protected areas (MPAs) and other effective area-based conservation measures (OECMs). While ABMTs under the BBNJ Agreement are not specifically intended for fisheries management, they may impact fisheries, particularly in regions where no RFMO or other fisheries organisation exists. (Yet, in my opinion, this absence of RFMOS presents a catch-22 situation… under which forum are you going to agree to HS MPA if there is no RFMO or IRBs)

RFMOs have historically applied spatial management tools, such as:

• Fisheries closures to protect spawning grounds and nursery areas. ​

• Protections for vulnerable marine ecosystems (VMEs) to safeguard habitats from destructive fishing practices.

• Seasonal or gear restrictions to minimise environmental impacts. ​

These measures align with the ecosystem approach to fisheries and promote biodiversity conservation.

As such, RFMOs can share their expertise in spatial planning and enforcement to support the design and implementation of ABMTs under the BBNJ Agreement. They can also provide data on ecologically or biologically significant marine areas (EBSAs) and other spatial management tools that reinforce biodiversity conservation objectives.

By leading the development of ABMT provisions, RFMOs can ensure these tools are evidence-based, practical, and complementary to existing fisheries management frameworks.

Contributing to Environmental Impact Assessments (EIAs)

EIAs are essential for evaluating and managing the environmental impacts of large-scale activities in ABNJ. The BBNJ Agreement requires EIAs for activities that could cause significant adverse effects, in accordance with the precautionary principle and UNCLOS commitments. While EIA responsibilities do not extend to activities overseen by RFMOs, the Agreement recognises comparable procedures under other relevant frameworks.

Many RFMOs already conduct risk-based impact assessments for new or expanding fisheries, which adhere to EIA principles. These assessments evaluate cumulative and transboundary impacts and rely on the best available science.

RFMOs can bring that expertise when developing BBNJ EIA standards and procedures, ensuring consistency with existing fisheries frameworks and emphasising the importance of their monitoring and risk assessment systems.

By participating in EIA processes, RFMOs can influence cross-sectoral coordination and ensure that the effects of non-fisheries activities, such as shipping, dumping, etc., on marine ecosystems supporting fisheries are properly assessed. This collaboration can safeguard fisheries' interests while also supporting wider biodiversity conservation.

Promoting Capacity Building and Technology Transfer

The BBNJ Agreement emphasises the significance of capacity building and technology transfer in promoting fair participation in marine biodiversity governance, particularly for developing countries, small island developing states (SIDS), and least developed countries (LDCs).

RFMOs generally have a dual role in capacity development and technology transfer.

• As providers, they can offer training, tools, and expertise in fisheries management, ecosystem-based monitoring, and risk assessment.

• As beneficiaries, they can access support for institutional development, data systems, and scientific research.

By engaging in capacity-building initiatives, RFMOs can help strengthen states' ability to participate in BBNJ processes while also enhancing their own capacity to adapt to emerging biodiversity governance frameworks.

Advancing Marine Genetic Resource (MGR) Governance

Marine genetic resources, including genetic or biological material of marine origin found in ABNJ, are subject to benefit-sharing obligations under the BBNJ Agreement. While fishing and fishing-related activities are excluded from these provisions, RFMOs can still contribute by:

• Being involved in developing access protocols for genetic material collected during fisheries research.

• Ensuring traceability and transparency in the use of marine genetic resources.

• Promoting policy coherence between fisheries governance and MGR frameworks.

RFMOs can also assist in integrating fisheries-related genetic data into global biodiversity governance, ensuring their practices align with the principles of the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) and the Nagoya Protocol.

Enhancing Cross-Sectoral Cooperation ​

The BBNJ Agreement emphasises collaboration among relevant legal instruments, frameworks, and bodies.

RFMOs work through collaboration; any of the chairs and leads in RFMO meetings can make sure that parties:

• Collaborate with other sectors, such as shipping, mining, and conservation organisations, to align actions and avoid duplication.  

• Participate in joint workshops, shared working groups, and liaison roles to foster effective cross-sectoral collaboration.  

• Promote mutual recognition of equivalent measures to ensure coherence between fisheries governance and biodiversity conservation.

So yeah... I believe that RFMOs, overall, can greatly support the functioning of the BBNJ Agreement, as they possess extensive experience in this area, having negotiated agreements across a wide range of issues over a long period. Personally, I think that while some non-specialist groups may perceive the BBNJ agreement as a way to influence fisheries and RFMOs, the opposite is more likely.

"Desk Experts" and the limits of remote monitoring of fishing vessels

As I wrote a few weeks ago, I don’t really have much of a work portfolio in Spanish, even if it was literally my mother’s language and the one in which I had my basic and university education.

I have worked more in Portuguese (which I learnt from living on the border with Brazil) than in Spanish itself. And as they say, no one is a prophet in their own culture. I have never worked again in Argentina since I left my last position at the National Institute of Fisheries and Development (INIDEP) in the early 90s

Yet in recent years, despite my strong views that the mess at the fishery in mile 201 stems from Argentina’s absolute (and shortsighted, in my opinion) refusal to even consider establishing an RFMO based on this, I have seen this as an implicit recognition of the Malvinas/Falklands Islands Government as a coastal state, thereby relinquishing sovereignty claims. 

As someone who was involved in that war, I can see the basis of that reticence, yet I think it is totally misguided… You can manage the migratory resources without relinquishing sovereignty… There are a few examples in other RFMOs that prove that case.

In any case, I have been collaborating on the basis of two people with simmilar interest nd a comon past basis with Captain Sergio Almada, the Coordinator of Argentina’s Interdisciplinary Working Group for the Control of Maritime Areas and their Resources that depends on the country’s “Prefectura – PNA” (Coast Guard), from which he retired as a senior officer of patrol and surveillance vessels.

I have never met him personally, but as most former fishermen and skippers, you tend to develop a good sense for assessing people’s character, and Sergio seems to be a very good and solid seaman and professional… and I have no problems working with people like him.

We mostly discuss the technical analysis of vessel manoeuvring and the ground truthing of perceived vessel activities.

He also confronts a similar problem that many of us working on remote assessments via Maritime Domain Awareness (MDA) systems… the “desk experts”… which generally are very well-intended individuals that get hold of a Global Fishing Watch (or equivalent) account and start analysing fishing vessels’ tracks (generally without any fishing experience themselves) and propose their findings/theories in social media and something in the non-specialised press that is always up for “a one-line punch” to the work of specialists and institutions, casting doubt on their capacity and integrity…

And as “doom sells but does not help”, then the real specialists have to spend a second time debunking those opinions, instead of doing the work they are supposed to do.

Yet Sergio wrote a great article in Spanish, explaining some of the issues with “Desk Experts” and their work, and he was really kind to quote me and refer to my work a few times, for which I’m very grateful…. And I hope one day get to meet him personally

The original is here, in Argentina’s Revista Puerto and a semiautomatic translation follows below

When AIS deceives: the limits of remote monitoring against illegal fishing

Technology based on Automatic Identification System (AIS) data is a vital tool for monitoring and managing fishing activity at sea. When used correctly, it enhances surveillance, but not everything displayed or interpreted by these platforms or "desk experts" is accurate. Recognising its limitations and inaccuracies is crucial.

Starting with a false premise or inaccurate causes when addressing a problem reduces the chances of finding an effective solution. This principle is especially relevant to criminal activities at sea and is vital for researchers working at a desk behind a computer, analysing information from monitoring platforms.

Understanding how to interpret what these platforms show us, analysing and evaluating the quality and relevance of the information, and seeking to compare it with real-world evidence requires skill and the ability to validate and contextualise. This is often lacking, undervalued, or considered of little importance, especially when what is presented responds more to interests than to the pursuit of truth with the necessary scientific rigour in an investigation.

To paraphrase Francisco Blaha, a specialist in fisheries issues and an expert in validating hypotheses and providing operational filters for these remote desktop analyses, ‘focusing the solution to problems surrounding fishing activity at sea on a single tool, such as AIS, carries the risk of raising expectations about what this technology can offer excessively.’

Blaha states that if the hypotheses and indicators used by these platforms are adjusted and the methodology employed is better verified in the field, the results will be more reliable and the tool will be more effective to use, providing more realistic figures on the problems.

It is worth exploring Francisco Blaha's blog, which has been around for over a decade, where you can find his contributions to the conservation and sustainable management of fisheries, monitoring and control, decent work on board fishing vessels, and a practical, operational view of the activity. This makes his perspective unique, and for me in particular, more appealing and engaging.

Fishing activity monitoring platforms not only display current and historical information about vessel identification and dynamics, but also report on their presumed activities (events), such as fishing, transhipments, encounters, navigation, anchoring, entry or exit from ports, AIS shutdown, and fishing effort, among others.

To achieve this, they employ a methodology, indicators, training data, and algorithms that enable them to define these activities, often with the assistance of artificial intelligence. In other words, their role in control and investigation is very significant, but it is not decisive for fully understanding what truly occurs around the activities, nor for addressing forms of maritime crime such as illegal fishing without room for error.

It is not conclusive because the information they present must not only be verified in the field but also contextualised at the local level, which requires genuine knowledge of the activity and consultation with its main actors. It is in this context that the figure of what some call ‘desk experts’ emerges and, together with them, the platform-expert binomial, which can be very effective but also potentially disastrous.

The outcome of the platform-expert collaboration will largely depend on the latter's ability to interpret and contextualise the information gathered from the platform, their knowledge of the sources and algorithms employed by the platform, their familiarity and experience with the activity under investigation, and the opportunity to engage with key actors who can validate the interpretation based on primary sources.

Common errors identified in these ‘desktop’ analyses

Few researchers verify their assumptions with the hydrometeorological data relevant to the event they are examining. Blaha highlights that anyone who has spent time on a ship knows that ‘weather is king at sea’ and that a ship's capabilities depend on sea conditions.

Not every time a ship maintains almost the same position for a couple of days is it engaging in illegal activity, as it is quite possible that when the AIS data is superimposed on the hydrometeorological data, it will be verified that it is actually weathering 50-knot winds and huge waves, where rather than illegal activity, it is simply trying to survive or ensure the safety of the ship and its crew.

Associating the entry into port of a fishing vessel or a refrigerated fishing support vessel directly with the arrival to unload catches, without considering that it may also be for other services and without consulting the port authorities to confirm or discard this assumption. For example, fleets such as the Chinese fleet operating in Mile 201 tranship their products on the high seas and rarely unload in port.

Considering the encounter of a fishing vessel with another fishing vessel or with a cargo vessel as a transhipment of catches, when there are many other operational reasons for encounters at sea, such as the provision of supplies, bait, fuel, spare parts, fishing gear, crew changes, and anything else we can think of. Analysing the duration of the encounter can be very helpful in identifying the reason.

It is a serious mistake to take for granted the boundaries that monitoring platforms present for the maritime spaces of coastal states without verifying that they correspond to the official ones.

Comparative experience across several Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs) in South America indicates that the boundaries used by some of these platforms differ from the official ones, which often makes activities outside jurisdictional waters appear to be illegal fishing.

This issue has persisted for years regarding the Marine Regions boundaries used by Global Fishing Watch (GFW) for Argentina's EEZ, extending into the “Agujero Azul” / Blue Hole area to 4.4 nautical miles on the high seas. A similar discrepancy remains in the boundary between Uruguay's EEZ and Brazil's, with no corrections made so far.

Unequivocally linking illegal fishing to a vessel entering an area where it is not authorised to operate, without considering whether its movement patterns and dynamics are compatible with fishing activities for that type of vessel, thus failing to acknowledge the international right of free navigation that supports them.

Another issue identified in studies that track port arrivals using AIS is that poorly trained algorithms may mistake movements between anchorage areas, from these to port and vice versa, as new arrivals, significantly overestimating their numbers. This issue has been observed in studies on the arrival of fish cargo ships at the port of Montevideo.

It also leads to errors to analyse apparent fishing manoeuvres based on AIS positions without considering the type of vessel. This is because, depending on the fishing gear used by a vessel, the speed, fishing pattern, depth, and characteristics of the area of operation, and in some cases, even the time of day when the activity occurs, will vary, making it possible to associate it with an activity compatible with fishing for that type of vessel.

Associating the switching off of AIS directly with illegal activity without recognising that not all fishing vessels are required to carry this device or keep it switched on by their flag states, to whom international regulations delegate this responsibility, or that there are commercial competition reasons for doing so.

Added to this is the failure to consider that many coastal States, such as Argentina through its Coast Guard System, and various platforms for controlling fishing activity have the capacity to detect them using satellite imagery, regardless of their AIS transmission.

Finally, some machine learning algorithms on these platforms mistakenly classify activities as fishing that, to an expert, do not correspond to that type of manoeuvre for a given fishing gear. Such errors help to exaggerate fishing effort.

In conclusion, analysing the information from fishing activity monitoring platforms should not be done without taking the context into account.

Some trends identified by analysts, such as changes in service ports for distant-water fishing fleets due to stricter or, conversely, more relaxed controls, may simply reflect annual variations in fishery resources or commercial and logistical reasons when considered in context. For example, the collapse of the Tsakos Dock in Montevideo in December 2022 forced fishing vessels operating in Mile 201 to initially seek alternative ports in southern Brazil for repairs.

With proper use, interpretation, and contextualisation of the information, combining data from these platforms with the work of experts and researchers to monitor and control fishing activities is highly beneficial. However, if this combination fails, it can distort the reality of what is actually happening, potentially hindering efforts to find solutions, especially when such information is utilised by decision-makers.

This article is not intended to criticise monitoring platforms or the work of experts or researchers; on the contrary, the contribution of information and effort is highly valued. It simply aims to highlight the risks of using this technology out of context and without the necessary expertise.

A 45-Year Retrospective on the EU’s Fishing Access Agreements

In my view, in fisheries, there are way more “opinionholders” than “stakeholders”, which, interestingly, at least from what I can see, is the opposite of land-based primary production like agriculture, dairy, and forestry, for example. You read tons of news analysing fisheries issues, and very few on land-based, which, as I discussed before, is substantially more impactful.

In a similar vein, I see way more analysis in the news and academic papers on the EU Fisheries Access Agreements with other countries than on those from all the other Distant Water Fishing Nations (DWFN), even though all of them have access agreements.

Map of the network of fishing access agreements developed by the EU around Africa (A) and in the Pacific Ocean (B). Chances are you could not find the text and details of all these agreements for any other DWFN.

I think this “more attention” to the EU ones comes from the fact that the EU upholds higher standards than the rest of the DWFN, but also from its transparency….For a copy with all the details for each EU agreement, you just need to go to a webpage and download them. Yet for the ones for. CN, TW, and KR, for example, chances are you need to know people in really high places, and even so… you may not see all the details.

And as much as I have criticised many of the technical issues around EU Market Access, I have always been very upfront in recognising that it's all above board, you have open access to all documents… and, fundamentally, they have always funded capacity building activities not only for the countries they have agreements with but also for many others that they don’t… and that sepatates from other resource users + donors combo as the DWFN are.

Chances are that a paper like this one could not be written about the fisheries agreements of any of the other DWFN, simply because the information would not be available… simply as that. So whatever your opinion is about the EU fisheries agreements, you have to recognise that they are there for you to read and analyse… and that alone separates them from the rest of the DWFN.

With that said, I read with interest this paper, not just because of the agreements they have with two of the Pacific Islands I work with (Cooks and Kiribati), but also because of the work I have done inside the frameworks of agreements in African countries in the past (Guinea-Bissau, Mozambique, Senegal and Angola), and adding to that I know personally and have a lot of respect two of the authors.

Below is a summary, but as always, read the original!

Since the late 1970s, the European Union (EU) has negotiated fishing access agreements with developing coastal states, formalising the presence of its distant-water fishing (DWF) fleets in foreign waters. These agreements, which started with Senegal in 1979, have developed significantly over the past 45 years, reflecting shifts in geopolitical dynamics, economic interests, and sustainability concerns. This blog post offers a comprehensive overview of the findings from a recent study that examined the scope, scale, and impact of these agreements.

The Origins of EU Fishing Access Agreements ​

The foundation for modern fishing access agreements was established in 1982 with the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). ​This treaty introduced the concept of Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs), granting coastal states sovereign rights over marine resources within 200 nautical miles of their shores. ​Article 62 of UNCLOS requires coastal states to promote the optimal use of living resources and to permit other states access to surplus resources through agreements.

For the EU, these agreements offered an opportunity to address overfishing in its domestic waters by reallocating surplus fishing capacity to resource-rich waters of developing countries. This expansion was also motivated by the need to satisfy the EU population's increasing demand for seafood. Over time, the EU established a wide network of fishing access agreements, mainly with African and Oceanian countries, many of which were former colonies.

Evolution of EU Fishing Access Agreements ​

The study highlights three distinct phases in the development of EU fishing access agreements:

1980s Expansion, during which the EU began with a single agreement with Senegal in 1979 and expanded to 12 agreements by the end of the decade. These agreements targeted a broad range of species, including coastal and demersal fish.

Peak Period (1990s–2000s) saw the highest number of agreements, averaging 14 at any given time, with geographical expansion into new EEZs in Africa and Oceania. The agreement with Angola was condemned in 2004, indicating the beginning of a decline. Recent

Decline (2010–2025) reflects a reduction to nine active agreements as of January 2025, driven by shifting geopolitical and economic interests and by increasing concerns about sustainability and fairness.

Key Trends in EU Fishing Access Agreements ​

The study highlights several significant trends in the composition, distribution, and economic scale of EU fishing access agreements:

1. Shift in Target Species: Early agreements targeted a diverse range of species, including coastal and demersal fish. Over time, the focus shifted primarily to large pelagic species, such as tuna, which now dominate the EU’s fishing efforts.

2. Reduction in Fleet Size: The number of EU vessels engaged in DWF operations has declined markedly, from a peak of 1,812 in 1999 to a median of 676 since 2020. This decline is primarily attributable to the reduction in bottom trawlers and dredgers, particularly from Spain.

3. Subsidy Allocation: Public subsidies have played a vital role in supporting EU fishing access agreements. Interestingly, small pelagic fisheries, which account for only 4% of vessels and 7.6% of tonnage, received 63.9% of the total €4.8 billion in subsidies allocated over 45 years. In contrast, large pelagic fisheries, which account for most of the fishing effort, received just 10.2% of the subsidies.

4. Geopolitical and Geoeconomic Dynamics: The study highlights how power imbalances shape access relationships. Coastal states often lack the industrial and financial capacity to develop competitive domestic fishing fleets, making them dependent on income from access agreements. However, these agreements can deepen inequalities, limit local access to seafood, and underestimate the value of resources extracted from their waters. (Yet in my opinion, this can be said about ALL fisheries agreements, at least the EU ones have funds earmarked for development and capacity building, something that others don’t.)

Case Studies: Morocco and Senegal ​

The study provides detailed case studies of Morocco and Senegal to illustrate the complexities of access relations:

• Morocco: The EU’s agreement with Morocco has undergone significant changes over time. At its peak in the mid-1990s, the agreement offered considerable fishing opportunities for small pelagics, demersal species, and large pelagics. However, by 2023, the scope of the agreement had been greatly reduced, with limited opportunities for demersal species and large pelagics. The future of this agreement remains uncertain, as the Court of Justice of the EU recently ruled that including disputed waters in Western Sahara is illegal.

• Senegal: The EU’s agreement with Senegal, the oldest in its network, has faced multiple challenges. It was terminated in 2006 under President Abdoulaye Wade, who prioritised local artisanal fishers and sought to protect overexploited fish stocks. Although the agreement was reinstated in 2014 under President Macky Sall, it faced strong opposition from local fishers and environmental groups. In late 2024, the EU and Senegal failed to renew their agreement, leaving its future uncertain.

Challenges and Implications ​

The study identifies several challenges associated with EU fishing access agreements:

1. Sustainability Concerns: Overfishing by industrial fleets, both legal and illegal, has depleted fish stocks in many coastal states. This has serious consequences for local fishers, forcing them into economic hardship and increasing irregular migration.

2. Transparency Issues: Although the EU’s agreements are regarded as the most transparent among DWF nations, there remains a lack of comprehensive data on the scope and characteristics of EU fleets operating in foreign waters.

3. Geopolitical Tensions: Agreements are influenced by complex geopolitical and geoeconomic factors, including colonial histories, trade treaties, and spheres of military influence. These elements often cause tensions between the EU and coastal states.

4. Equity and Fair Benefit-Sharing: The study emphasises the disproportionate distribution of subsidies to a small portion of the EU fleet, raising concerns about fairness within the EU and between the EU and coastal states.

The Future of EU Fishing Access Agreements

The future of EU fishing access agreements remains uncertain. The network of agreements has continued to evolve, and this trend is likely to persist. The EU faces a dilemma: it can either continue supporting its industrial fleets in foreign waters, which may cause local and regional resentment, or pursue more cooperative arrangements that emphasise fair benefit-sharing, local development, and sustainability.

Coastal states, on the other hand, will continue to examine different arrangements to optimise the use of their fishing grounds. ​ This may involve partnerships with non-EU fleets or alternative approaches such as joint ventures. ​ The study highlights the need for future research to compare the relative advantages of various access arrangements and to better understand the implications for sustainability governance.

Conclusion

EU fishing access agreements with coastal states of the Global South exemplify broader struggles over sovereignty, equity, and sustainability. While these agreements have secured the EU’s DWF fleets relatively stable access conditions, they have also revealed multiple tensions between economic interests, resource sustainability, and other factors.

Biodiversity Consequences of Replacing Animal Protein From Capture Fisheries With Animal Protein From Agriculture

This is not a new concept… some of the authors in this paper have been beating that drum for some years now ( I have written about it here and here )

I have long thought that fisheries seem to be subject to public scrutiny at different levels than agriculture… a typical example in NZ, around 1.1-2% of the EEZ, is actually bottom-trawled each year, primarily on established fishing grounds, while around 50-51% of NZ's total land area is used for agriculture and horticulture. Yet we mostly hear about the trawl impact.

The paper "Biodiversity Consequences of Replacing Animal Protein From Capture Fisheries With Animal Protein From Agriculture" examines the environmental and biodiversity impacts of substituting animal protein from marine capture fisheries with sources from agriculture. The authors argue that such a shift could exacerbate global biodiversity loss because agriculture has a more significant effect on ecosystems than the less invasive methods.

Below is a summary, but as always, read the original!

Introduction: The Sustainability Debate in Food Production

The paper begins by examining the growing global debate on sustainable food systems, particularly regarding animal protein consumption. Documentaries like Seaspiracy and Oceans have raised concerns about the sustainability of seafood, leading to calls to reduce reliance on marine capture fisheries. Although cutting down on meat and fish is often seen as environmentally beneficial, the authors challenge the notion that agriculture is inherently less impactful than fisheries, particularly when biodiversity is used as the benchmark.

Agriculture and Fisheries: Effects on Biodiversity

The authors emphasise the vital role of food production in causing biodiversity loss. Agriculture uses about half of the Earth’s habitable land, with 77% of this dedicated primarily to animal farming, mainly cattle rearing. This land conversion significantly drives biodiversity decline, especially in tropical forests, which are among the most biologically diverse habitats worldwide. The paper observes that agriculture often replaces complex ecosystems with simplified, human-managed systems, leading to irreversible impacts on biodiversity.

In contrast, fisheries primarily impact higher trophic levels in aquatic ecosystems, leaving the lower levels of the food chain relatively unaffected. Although fishing can lead to localised ecosystem changes and species depletion, well-managed fisheries aim to operate within the natural structures and functions of ecosystems, thereby reducing long-term damage.

Land Use Implications of Replacing Marine Protein with Agricultural Protein. The paper provides detailed calculations to estimate the land area needed to replace the protein currently obtained from marine capture fisheries with agricultural alternatives. If marine protein were replaced by the current proportional mix of livestock (beef, lamb, chicken, and pork), an additional 4.99 million square kilometres of land would be required—an area larger than the intact rainforest in Brazil. Replacing fish protein with grains or soy would require considerably less land, but the biodiversity impacts of such a shift remain significant.

The authors also examine the implications of replacing fishmeal in aquaculture with soy-based alternatives. They estimate that this transition could require up to 47,453 square kilometres of new agricultural land, further exacerbating biodiversity loss. While alternative feeds for aquaculture are being developed, the dominant option remains crops like soy, which carry their own environmental trade-offs.

Extinction Risks and Threats to Biodiversity

Using data from the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List, the authors compare the extinction risks posed by agriculture and fisheries. Agriculture is identified as a significantly greater threat to biodiversity, with approximately 22,728 species listed as Critically Endangered, Endangered, or Vulnerable due to agricultural activities, compared to 2,143 species threatened by fishing. This disparity is attributed to the transformative nature of agriculture, which replaces native ecosystems with monocultures or non-native species, whereas fisheries generally do not involve habitat removal.

The paper also emphasises that agriculture poses considerable risks to aquatic species, including those in freshwater and estuarine systems. For example, agricultural activities such as dam construction and water extraction can disrupt aquatic ecosystems, amplifying the impacts of fishing. Even in marine environments, agriculture indirectly threatens species through coastal habitat degradation caused by agricultural runoff and pollution.

Trophic Level Impacts: Agriculture versus Fisheries

The authors explore differences in impacts across trophic levels between agriculture and fisheries. Agriculture primarily targets the bottom of the food chain (plants and primary producers), leading to the replacement of native species with crops and livestock preferred by humans. This transformation often triggers cascading effects on higher trophic levels, reducing biodiversity and altering ecosystem functions.

In contrast, fisheries primarily target higher trophic levels, such as predatory fish, leaving lower trophic levels relatively unaffected. Although specific fishing methods, such as bottom trawling, can affect benthic ecosystems, these effects are usually localised and less extensive than the widespread habitat loss caused by agriculture.

Trade-offs and Policy Implications

The paper emphasises the importance for policymakers to consider the broader effects of dietary changes and food production methods on biodiversity. While reducing livestock consumption and advocating for plant-based diets could decrease land use and biodiversity impacts, the authors warn against oversimplified solutions that call for the complete elimination of marine fisheries or the use of fish in aquaculture. Such approaches could lead to unintended consequences, including increased pressure on terrestrial ecosystems.

The authors argue that well-managed fisheries can be a sustainable source of animal protein while minimising impacts on biodiversity. Effective fisheries management practices, such as regulating harvests and rebuilding stocks, have already proven successful in improving fish stock status and reducing ecosystem disruption. Transitioning to protein from well-managed fisheries could help lessen biodiversity loss associated with rising agricultural production.

The Importance of Comprehensive Tools and Comparisons

The paper advocates for developing tools to compare the biodiversity impacts of different food production methods objectively. While Life Cycle Analysis (LCA) remains a valuable method for assessing environmental impacts, it often does not sufficiently account for biodiversity effects, especially in the context of seafood production. Incorporating ecosystem models and input-output analyses into LCA could provide more detailed insights into the trade-offs between land- and water-based food production systems.

The Role of Fisheries Management in Reducing Biodiversity Loss.

The authors emphasise the undervalued importance of effective fisheries management in reducing biodiversity impacts. By adopting sustainable practices, fisheries can minimise ecosystem changes and prevent the loss of iconic species. Better management could also lead to significant increases in fish catches, reducing dependence on land-based protein production and its associated biodiversity impacts.

Future Challenges and Ethical Considerations

The paper concludes by examining the complexities of future food production choices. The rise of fish-free "seafood" products and lab-grown animal proteins presents new challenges in assessing environmental and nutritional impacts. The authors highlight the importance of transparency in sourcing and manufacturing these alternatives, as well as the necessity for independent verification of sustainability claims.

Ultimately, the paper indicates that the increasing global population and wealth, particularly in developed nations, are driving unsustainable food production methods. Policymakers must carefully assess the impacts of dietary changes and agricultural methods to prevent further biodiversity decline and other environmental issues.

Key Takeaways

• Agriculture poses a greater threat to biodiversity loss than fisheries, due to its disruptive effects on ecosystems. 

• Land Use: Replacing marine protein with agricultural protein would necessitate significant land conversion, further threatening biodiversity.

• Extinction risks: Agriculture poses a greater threat to species extinction than fisheries, particularly for terrestrial and freshwater species. 

• Trophic Level Impacts: Agriculture affects lower trophic levels, leading to ecosystem changes, while fisheries primarily impact higher trophic levels. 

• Policy Implications: Policymakers should consider the broader biodiversity impacts of dietary changes and food production strategies, emphasising the importance of well-managed fisheries.

• Future Challenges: The rise of fish-free and lab-grown animal proteins requires a thorough assessment of their environmental impact and greenhouse gas emissions.

An Expanded Evaluation of Global Fisheries Management Organizations on the High Seas

As you all may know, I spend a lot of my work time and personal time working on transhipment issues in the WCPO…  I was involved in transshipments as a fisherman, as a compliance officer, as an observer training standards developer, as an algorithm developer with Starboard.nz, as a researcher (IUU quantification and Impracticability assessment), and as a policy operator both with the FAO Transhipment Guidelines and with the now-defunct WCPFC Transhipment Interseasonal Working Group, and so on… I think I know my stuff on this fishing reality.

Yet it is always interesting to read about it from a different perspective, so I was interested to read a recent paper, "An Expanded Evaluation of Global Fisheries Management Organisations on the High Seas," authored by Gabrielle Carmine et al., which provides a comprehensive review of how Regional Fisheries Management Organisations (RFMOs) perform in managing high seas fisheries. And also talks about a topic I also worked on recently, MPAs in ABNJ

While not its primary objective, the paper focuses on transhipment at sea, which has been linked to higher risks of IUU fishing and other illegal activities. Interestingly, the WCPFC scores well on overall sustainable management of the fishery, yet we still have the loosest HS Transhipment scheme among tRFMOs.

So yeah… below is a summary, but as always, read the original!

The high seas, which constitute nearly half of the Earth's surface, are crucial for global biodiversity and fisheries. Yet, industrial fishing activities have led to significant biodiversity loss, overfishing, and bycatch, posing challenges to the sustainability of marine ecosystems. RFMOs carry a dual mandate under the United Nations Fish Stocks Agreement (UNFSA) of 1995: to ensure the long-term conservation of fish stocks and their ecosystems, and to manage the sustainable use of high seas fisheries.

The study evaluates 16 active RFMOs using 100 performance questions across ten categories, including access and equity, bycatch reduction, illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing prevention, integration of scientific knowledge, spatial management, and stakeholder participation. The authors assign scores (0, 0.5, or 1) based on publicly available information such as meeting documents, conservation and management measures (CMMs), and convention texts.

The average score across all RFMOs was 45.5 out of 100, with the highest being 61.5 for the Western and Central Pacific Fisheries Commission (WCPFC) and the lowest at 29.5 for the North Atlantic Salmon Conservation Organisation (NASCO). Notably, no RFMO achieved a perfect score in any category, highlighting significant performance gaps.

The study found that only one RFMO, the South-East Atlantic Fisheries Organisation (SEAFO), has implemented a complete ban on transhipment at sea. Five other RFMOs—GFCM, IATTC, ICCAT, IOTC, and WCPFC—maintain partial prohibitions, which were rated at 0.5 points in the evaluation. The remaining RFMOs have no restrictions on transhipment at sea, leaving this practice largely unregulated in many high-seas areas. The authors argue that a complete moratorium on transhipment at sea could bring substantial ecological and social benefits, including reducing IUU fishing, safeguarding high seas biodiversity, and addressing human rights issues.

The paper also stresses the importance of RFMOs adopting more rigorous measures to tackle the challenges of transhipment. These include enhancing monitoring and enforcement mechanisms, increasing transparency in transhipment activities, and applying policies that follow the precautionary principle. The authors recommend that RFMOs work together with the United Nations Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ) treaty, which will come into force in 2026, to establish marine protected areas (MPAs) and improve governance frameworks.

The study's findings suggest that RFMOs are not meeting their mandates to manage high-seas fisheries sustainably and to conserve marine biodiversity. Despite having policies and best practices in place, there is little correlation between RFMO management performance and positive outcomes, such as reduced overexploitation of target stocks or lower fishing intensity. Reactionary policymaking, external environmental factors, and ineffective enforcement of RFMO measures may cause this disconnect.

The authors recommend several measures to enhance RFMO effectiveness, including the establishment of permanent no-take MPAs covering at least 1% of RFMO convention areas, immediate reductions in allowable catches to combat overfishing, and a complete ban on transhipment at sea. They contend that no-take MPAs are more successful than multi-use protected areas in achieving conservation objectives, as they support considerably higher fish biodiversity and can provide spillover benefits to nearby exclusive economic zones (EEZs). Furthermore, banning transhipment at sea would mitigate the risks of IUU fishing and improve transparency and accountability in high seas fisheries.

The paper also highlights the importance of good governance in RFMOs to prevent regulatory capture and ensure fair decision-making. The authors note that some RFMOs have allowed industry representatives to participate in decision-making processes, raising concerns about conflicts of interest and the risk of regulatory capture. They advise RFMOs to adopt robust governance measures, such as those used by the International Pacific Halibut Commission (IPHC), including comprehensive rules to manage conflicts of interest.

In conclusion, the paper highlights the urgent need for RFMOs to improve their performance in managing high-seas fisheries and conserving marine biodiversity. The authors advocate for stronger collaboration between RFMOs and the BBNJ treaty to address existing governance gaps and implement effective conservation measures. By prioritising long-term conservation and adopting a precautionary approach, RFMOs can better fulfil their mandates and support the sustainable use of high seas resources.

How many of you and where do you read this from!

At this time of the year, for every app we have, we have been given a complete set of statistics on how the year was. So I thought I'd do the same, in case any of you care.

And when I say you... I very rarely know who you are... As a self-employed consultant, I hardly get the chance to attend conferences and events like that, so when I do get invited, it's always great when someone comes up and says, "Hi, I read your blog and like this or that, or it's good to read what you think about this and that`’

Yet I remind myself constantly that writing a blog does not make one meaningful!

In any case, for 2025, there have been 24,000 visits, with 21,000 unique visitors who read 31,000 pages. Most of you (11500) come directly to the page, use Windows (12923), and browse with Chrome.

 Currently, 25% of you are based in the USA, 10% in China, 6.28% in Australia, and 4.73% in the UK... which, interestingly, are all countries I haven’t worked in.

Now… I also realised recently that I started this blog in January 2014 just because it was offered for free with the template I chose from Squarespace – the hosting platform for this website – and not because I had any inkling of being a blogger.

And as such, I can tell you that in the last decade, this blog has been viewed 387,000 times by 245,000 unique visitors across 298,000 visits. (It peaked in 2022 during the COVID pandemic at 38000 visits, but also then I quit most social media, so a lot of traffic subsided too)

Needless to say, these figures are truly astonishing for me, since I see myself as a fisheries operational consultant who writes a blog in my free time and not a “science communicator'‘, and I don’t have any form of sponsorship or pay for promoting this blog

Thank you all for your time and interest. I wish you all a beautiful time off with your loved ones.

A New Seafood Import Policy for Nations to Combat Illegal Fishing

As you may know from my work, if by some obscure reason you have been reading my blogs for the last 12 years, Catch Documentation Schemes has been one of my main professional frustrations.

I started working on them back in 2009, while employed by FAO, following their mention in the PSMA, and continued through the frustrations of the EU CCS (2010) and the long, disappointing story of the never-to-be-advanced WCPFC CDS (2013). I was also the author of the initial draft and a later part of the secretariat for the FAO CDS technical consultation (2015) and the 2017 voluntary guidelines. Additionally, I co-wrote a seminal book on the subject with my friend Gillies, linking traceability to fisheries compliance, and peer-reviewed two other books he authored. Further frustrations arose with FFA CDS. Recently, I documented all the CTEs and KDEs for end-to-end traceability in both fisheries and aquaculture for FAO, which, to date, has not been used by any RFMO.

the way everything starts

The frustrations come primarily out of the unilateralism of those imposed by end markets (being quite critical of them for many technical reasons) and the lack of political will to set up fisheries forward ones out of RFMOs (especially the WCPFC)

This does not mean I don’t keep track of what is happening and being written, particularly when the authors are people I know, like the first 3 in this paper: Leslie Roberson, Gilles Hosch, and Chris Wilcox.

Their paper, A New Seafood Import Policy for Nations to Combat Illegal Fishing, while not explicitly written for the timid noises Australia has been making about setting up a unilateral one… I feel it was meant for Australia, and hence you can argue it's “new”

I like this paper because it summarises the shortcomings of unilateral CDS over the past 15 years. I can now send questions about the EU CCS, US SIMP, the Japanese one, and other unilateral initiatives to this document instead of coming over my blogs and books!

It is a good and informative paper. Below is a summary, but as always, I recommend you read the original!

The complexity and opacity of global supply chains make it difficult to trace the origins of seafood products. Compared to other agricultural commodities, seafood import controls are severely inadequate, leaving consumer countries vulnerable to the entry of illegal products into their markets.

Currently, only three major market regions—the European Union (EU), the United States, and Japan—have enacted legislation targeting IUU seafood imports. These systems, while important, are riddled with loopholes and do not fully guarantee the legality and traceability of seafood products. For example, the EU’s catch documentation scheme, introduced in 2010, is paper-based, which makes it vulnerable to fraud. Although updates are scheduled for 2026, the digitisation will only take place at the final point of trade, leaving earlier stages of the supply chain exposed. Similarly, the United States’ Seafood Import Monitoring Program depends on importers to gather and maintain supply chain documentation, but it lacks a centralised tracking system. Japan’s catch documentation scheme, implemented in 2022, covers only four species groups, limiting its scope.

The paper stresses the importance of wider adoption of import controls by more countries to strengthen global efforts against IUU fishing. Countries like Australia, which imports two-thirds of its seafood, have the chance to create leading systems that promote multilateral cooperation. Australia has been a regional leader in fighting IUU fishing through initiatives such as the Regional Plan of Action on IUU fishing. However, it currently lacks specific import controls to stop IUU seafood from entering its borders. The Australian government is working on a seafood import regulation policy aimed at IUU products, building on existing examples from RFMOs and other market states.  

The authors identify two main types of trade measures used to track the origins and verify the legality of internationally traded seafood: catch documentation schemes and import monitoring programmes. Catch documentation schemes, as defined by the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), begin at the fishing vessel with the issuance of a catch certificate that links to subsequent trade documents throughout the supply chain. These schemes are either multilateral, carried out by RFMOs, or unilateral, implemented by market states. Import monitoring programmes, on the other hand, require trade documentation at the point of import but lack a traceability mechanism covering the entire supply chain.  

The paper highlights key flaws in current systems, including limited control over complex supply chains and arbitrary enforcement mechanisms. Multilateral trade measures are preferred over unilateral systems, as they can prevent IUU fishing across entire species or stocks. However, the three existing RFMO catch documentation schemes only cover a few species, reducing their effectiveness. Diplomatic efforts to encourage more countries to adopt these measures are essential. Furthermore, enforcement triggers in current systems are often inconsistent and lack transparency, which diminishes their effectiveness.

To overcome these limitations, the authors suggest eight essential design standards for improved seafood import control systems.

1. Fully Electronic Catch Documentation System: A digital system for issuing and storing catch and trade certificates is crucial for effective traceability and preventing fraud.  

2. Linked Certificates Along the Supply Chain: Certificates should be sequentially connected to ensure traceability from the fishing vessel to the final market.  

3. Centralised Certificate Registry: A centralised electronic registry accessible to authorised parties can reduce fraud and encourage multilateral participation.  

4. Automated mass balance monitoring: Automated systems should identify discrepancies in the supply chain, preventing unauthorised products from re-entering certified supply chains.  

5. Official Validation Process: Public authorities should supervise the validation and certification procedures to ensure authenticity and compliance with regulations.  

6. Integration With Trade System Infrastructure: The system should seamlessly integrate with existing trade and customs processes to streamline operations.  

7. Minimum Key Data Elements and Unique IDs: A standardised set of essential data elements and unique identifiers can facilitate interoperability and effective tracking.

8. Broad Scope of Species Coverage: Trade measures should encompass a wide variety of species to prevent mislabelling and ensure thorough traceability.

The authors highlight the importance of designing systems that are flexible, automated, and self-enforcing. Countries like Australia can take the lead by adopting systems that complement and build upon existing frameworks in the EU, US, and Japan. A centralised and collaborative certification system would reduce compliance burdens and simplify the current patchwork of regulatory arrangements. Digital traceability systems, such as blockchain technology, can improve trust and transparency in seafood supply chains, making it easier for small-scale actors to participate.  

In conclusion, the paper urges market states to take a leadership role in fighting IUU fishing by implementing effective import control measures. By adopting well-designed systems and supporting multilateral cooperation, consumer countries can play a crucial role in enhancing the sustainability of global fisheries and reducing the ecological and social harms related to IUU fishing.  

EU updates regulations on brine-frozen tuna for direct human consumption

Most of my current work is on the MCS. PSM and labour side – it wasn’t always like that… For over a decade, the central focus of my job was EU market access from both the sanitary and IUU perspectives. I was heavily involved in helping many countries access or maintain sanitary authorisation and remove yellow cards.

On the sanitary side, my area of specialisation was vessels and landing sites. In that domain, I carried out extensive work for the EU through its Better Training for Safer Food (BTSF) programme. Subsequently, I focused on drafting EU market access guides that explain the complex double authorisation system countries must navigate to export to the EU. The latest version I wrote for FFA is here.

While it is a long story, one of the tenets that the EU had was that when tuna was frozen in brine (as in purse seine), it could be ONLY used for canned tuna, and such could be maintained along the cold chain at -9°C while in brine, which had to be kept at -18°C if held in “dry” (as opposed to “wet” while in brine) stores.

This is because 30 years ago, if you had brine (seawater and salt in a highly concentrated solution often maintained at around 21% to 23.3% salt by weight), the density increased the cooler you made it… to a point that beyond -15°C it became challenging to circulate with the standard pumps and pressures we had at the time; furthermore, the fuel consumption increased significantly the cooler the brine became.

If you are interested in the process and physics of freezing, you can download and read this chapter of a book I co-wrote years ago about cold chains in fishing.

In summary, fish are mainly water, typically 60–90 per cent depending on the species, and freezing converts most of this water into ice. Freezing involves removing heat, and fish from which heat is extracted decrease in temperature, as illustrated below. During the initial cooling phase, the temperature rapidly drops just below 0°C, the water's freezing point. As more heat needs to be removed in the second phase to turn most of the water into ice, the temperature changes only minimally; this is known as the period of "thermal arrest". When approximately 55% of the water has frozen, the temperature begins to fall sharply again, and during this third phase, most of the remaining water freezes. This final stage requires removing only a small amount of heat. 

Temperature-time graph for fish during freezing

Fish quality mainly depends on the speed of freezing, especially the time it takes to reach -5°c. At this point, ice formation begins through nucleation, where supercooled water molecules organise into a stable, ordered ice crystal structure. This initial "nucleus" then expands rapidly, releasing latent heat and causing the surrounding liquid to freeze; the faster this process happens, the smaller the ice crystals within the cells, resulting in less cellular damage and better quality when the fish is thawed.

Purse seine brine freezing is intended to quickly freeze large quantities of fish, which works well but compromises quality and salt penetration in the surface tissues beneath the skin. For many decades, this was not an issue because all PS fish was destined for canning, where tuna is peeled and overcooked twice (once before canning and then again in the can).

In the old days, no one sensible would take a skipjack or a yellowfin that had been three weeks in messy brine and cut it up for steaks... That is what you do with longline fish, which are killed individually and quickly frozen in blast freezers.

However, all of this changed in the last decade… in two ways;

FAD fishing: Before the nearly exclusive FAD fishery we have today, most tuna was caught in free schools… and these were very consistent in species composition… Usually, almost all skipjack and sometimes yellowfin. You might have encountered yellowtail Seriola lalandi (also known as yellowtail kingfish, hiramasa, or great amberjack), but not much beyond that. With the advent of FAD fishing, catches became very mixed, including yellowfin and bigeye (though mostly juveniles), which, of course, fetch a much higher price than skipjack in the direct-to-consumer market. This creates an incentive for fishermen to sell these as such, even if they were frozen in brine and intended only for canning. If not for canning, they could only be stored at temperatures below -18°C.

Certainly, this caused many issues for the CA of the flag states regarding control, as well as for consumers experiencing histamine problems. When tracing back through the chain, the catching vessel is a PS, so that fish should not have entered the direct human consumption value chain.

Better and newer vessels; a lot of newer vessels started setting some of dry lockers at the stern as blast freezers, so the fish is brailed on board, and the crew take the bigger yellowfin and freezes them there and creates a 2nd stream of freezing on board, which then is aimed at the ready-for-human-consumption value chain of frozen tuna. Yet on newer vessels, more efficient refrigeration systems allow freezing in brine at -19 to -20°C by tweaking and fine-tuning brine density between 19.8° and 22° in the Baumé scale. It is also essential to work with the lowest possible suction temperatures in the cooling system available

So, with all these changes, the EU has faced the need to update its regulations to reflect reality. One of my friends in DG SANTE approached me about this in 2021, so it has been in progress for some time. 

Audits and official controls have shown that some tuna suppliers have falsely sold canned-grade tuna frozen in brine at -9°C as suitable for direct ‘fresh’ human consumption within the EU market. This practice endangers consumers by exposing them to scombroid food poisoning caused by potentially high histamine levels. The issue has been confirmed by an increasing number of notifications issued via the EU’s Rapid Alert System for Food and Feed (RASFF) concerning histamine levels exceeding permissible limits in vacuum-packed, thawed tuna loins treated with additives to imitate freshness, leading to confirmed cases of food poisoning.

Finally, on 29 October 2025, the European Commission (EC) officially adopted Delegated Regulation (EU) 2025/1449, amending Annexe III of Regulation (EC) 853/2004 to establish new standards for frozen tuna in brine. Under the new rules, only vessels proven capable of maintaining a continuous freezing process that reduces core tuna temperatures to –18°C may use brine freezing for tuna destined for direct human consumption.

The regulation requires that temperature reduction be continuous. For direct brine freezing, whole round tuna must reach –18°C within 96 hours of first entering the brine and must drop below 0°C within 24 hours. If first cooled in clean seawater, the water must be cooled to 3°C within 6 hours and to 0°C within 16 hours. Once in brine, the tuna must reach –18°C at its centre within 72 hours. 

Interestingly, adding to the EM world, to ensure process integrity, freezer vessels must be equipped with real-time electronic brine-temperature monitoring systems that transmit data onshore, allowing food business operators and authorities to access them.

Furthermore, operators must develop a validation plan that demonstrates their vessel’s freezing capacity, including kinetic studies linking brine temperature with core tuna temperature, and certification confirming that temperature sensors meet international measurement standards.

Authorised third-country Competent Authorities (CA) are responsible for reviewing this plan during their vessel’s approval or listing process. The amended regulation is set to come into force from 27 January 2026.

This would introduce significant complexity to the systems of the four countries (PNG, Fiji, Solomon Islands, and Kiribati) in the WCPO (hopefully five soon, now that RMI is being evaluated).

The issue is that most of the PS are only flagged to the country, but their home ports are in TW, CN, and KR, where they used to be flagged. While EU rules are meant to be applied equally across all EU-authorised countries, most of these vessels appear to breach these regulatory requirements only when they fly a Pacific Island country’s flag. They complain that the regulations are too demanding and that KR or TW CA never asked for anything like an HACCP plan. 

I have boarded hundreds of DWFN-flagged PS ships over the past 20 years. Most of them should not have been approved, as they do not meet even the basic requirements... and since they haven't been in the home port for over two years, they haven't been inspected at all... so the EU DG SANTE expects a lot from countries like RMI to prove they have CAs that are equivalent to those in Germany or France. Yet, the CAs of KR, TW, and CN seem to have no control over their vessels outside their waters.

While I endorse the changes that DG SANTE has implemented, and if I were in a position where my opinion mattered, I would advise that DG SANTE, either directly, through MoUs with national CAs, or with support from the EU delegations (where they already have DG MARE staff), station officers in the main Pacific ports. These officers should conduct independent boarding operations to ensure a level playing field for the Pacific Islands and the DWFN.

In my professional opinion (I used to train EU seafood inspectors), such DWFN vessels/fish should not be approved for EU exports, and their CAs should have their authorisations suspended. 

Fshers and seafarers in international law – Really so different?”

One of the issues I find most challenging to explain to people working in other seafaring industries (cargo, research, exploration, transport, etc.) is that fishers are not considered seafarers… There are fishing boats that are larger than many other working vessels, like tugs and local ferries. Yet, the crew on these vessels have more regulatory protections under international agreements than fishers.

And while I know from experience, the extent to which this difference is entrenched became very clear to me while writing the fisheries chapter for the forthcoming Oxford Handbook of Human Rights at Sea.

The global fishing industry employs around 39 million people worldwide, yet despite its significance, fishers face systemic marginalisation under international law compared to seafarers, who benefit from stronger protections and greater global recognition.

So, I have been searching for someone who has conducted a comprehensive academic analysis of the justifications for this disparity, which undoubtedly stems from historical, structural, cultural and institutional differences. 

And found it!  All this is discussed in Daphne Guelker’s comprehensive paper: “Fishers and seafarers in international law – Really so different?” published in Marine Policy in 2023.

So here is a summary, but as usual, I recommend reading the original

The Legal Divide: MLC vs. C188

Two key international conventions govern the rights and protections of workers at sea: the Maritime Labour Convention, 2006 (MLC), and the Work in Fishing Convention, 2007 (C188). While the MLC is widely ratified and regarded as a success, C188 has struggled to garner support, with only 20 ratifications so far. The MLC explicitly excludes fishers from its definition of "seafarers," leaving them subject to the weaker protections under C188. This exclusion has resulted in significant consequences for fishers, including limited access to shore-based facilities, greater risk of abandonment, and fewer enforcement mechanisms compared to seafarers.  

COVID-19 and the Crew Change Crisis  

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed significant disparities in the treatment of seafarers and fishers. The "crew change crisis" left around 400,000 seafarers stranded on vessels, unable to return home or receive wages. This crisis attracted extensive media coverage and prompted initiatives like the Neptune Declaration, which aimed to support seafarers' well-being and secure their access to vaccines, health protocols, and repatriation. However, fishers, who encountered similar difficulties during the pandemic, were largely excluded from these efforts. Many fishing crews were stranded in foreign ports without access to communication, health services, or the protections granted to seafarers.  

Four Key Reasons for the Disparity  

Guelker outlines four main reasons for distinguishing between fishers and seafarers under international law.

Diverse Fisher Populations: The fishing industry covers a broad spectrum of activities, from small-scale artisanal fishing to large-scale commercial operations. The absence of a universally agreed-upon definition of small-scale fisheries (SSF) complicates efforts to establish global standards. While C188 aims to address these issues, its flexibility allows countries to exclude specific categories of fishers, leading to inconsistent protections.  

Employment Structures: Unlike seafarers, who usually work under formal employment agreements, many fishers operate under "share of catch" arrangements. This system often classifies fishers as self-employed, excluding them from labour law protections. Even employed fishers face exploitative conditions, such as long working hours, poor living conditions, and limited access to collective representation.  

Historic and Modern Maritime Zones: Traditionally, fishing was seen as a domestic issue, with vessels operating within their own territorial waters or on the high seas. However, the modern law of the sea has extended maritime zones, bringing fishing activities under foreign jurisdictions. Despite this change, fishing has not been recognised as a globalised industry that requires coordinated international responses, unlike seafaring. 

Institutional Representation: The International Maritime Organisation (IMO) has played a vital role in establishing robust protections for seafarers, including the MLC. In contrast, the fishing industry is governed by a fragmented system involving the IMO, the International Labour Organisation (ILO), and the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO). This piecemeal approach has led to overlapping and inconsistent initiatives, further marginalising fishers.  

Consequences of Marginalisation ​

The weaker protections for fishers have resulted in serious consequences. Fishing remains one of the most dangerous occupations worldwide, with mortality rates considerably higher than those in other industries. The FAO estimates that between 24,000 and 32,000 fishers die each year, primarily involved in small-scale fisheries. Accidents, injuries, and deaths are common due to hazardous working conditions, lack of safety gear, and extreme fatigue. Fishers frequently work long hours, suffer from poor nutrition, and get insufficient rest, which heightens the dangers of their occupation. 

Cases of "sea slavery" and forced labour in the fishing industry have attracted media attention. Still, these extreme cases obscure the broader issues of labour exploitation and unsafe working conditions faced by most fishers. Initiatives aimed at tackling illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing have concentrated on fighting forced labour and human trafficking, but do not address the full range of fishers' rights. 

Proposed Solutions

To tackle the disparity between fishers and seafarers, Guelker proposes several solutions.

Promote C188 Ratification: A collective effort is required to encourage states to ratify and implement C188. This would help harmonise protections for fishers across countries and ensure broader coverage.

Extend MLC Protections to Fishers: Including large-scale commercial fishers under the MLC could provide consistent protections for a significant portion of the fisher population. However, this would necessitate extensive renegotiations and political commitment.

Strengthen Collaboration Among International Organisations: The FAO, ILO, and IMO should work together to develop a clear strategy for promoting fishers' rights. This includes actively advocating for the ratification of relevant conventions and monitoring the implementation of non-binding instruments.

Engage Regional Fisheries Bodies (RFBs): RFBs should be encouraged to align their initiatives with international standards and promote the ratification of relevant conventions among their members. This would help reduce the fragmented nature of protections for fishers. This is happening, as we have seen in the case of the WCPFC.

Address Structural Barriers: The unique employment structures in the fishing industry, such as share fishing, should not be used as an excuse to deny fishers basic protections. C188 has demonstrated that these arrangements can be addressed through Fisher's work agreements.

 Conclusion

The differentiation between fishers and seafarers under international law is unjustified and has led to significant disparities in protection. Fishers face hazardous working conditions, exploitation, and marginalisation, despite their critical role in global food security. While extending MLC protections to fishers may be challenging, promoting C188 ratification and fostering collaboration among international organisations and RFBs are more immediate and feasible solutions. A unified and harmonised framework is essential to ensure safety and decent work for all fishers, regardless of their classification or the scale of their operations.

Una entrevista in Spanish

While Spanish is literally my mother’s language (my mum spoke Spanish to me, my dad -Austrian- spoke German, and my village language was Guarani), I barely work in Spanish… In fact, I work more in Portuguese than in Spanish… even if my schooling and 1st university degree were in Spanish.

I suppose that, as I left Argentina two weeks after submitting my thesis, with most of my experience being in fishing and as a science technician aboard research vessels, I never had the chance to “grow” professionally in Spanish. Consequently, I’m not recognised in that world... but also, and as the Bible states (Luke 4:24), “no one is a prophet in his own land.”

While I was working for FAO in Rome, I liaised with the Spanish industry and the Spanish Association for Standardisation and Certification (AENOR), and I enjoyed it. But that was a long time ago.

I was pleasantly surprised and somewhat intrigued when the editor of Industrias Pesqueras (IP), a leading Spanish maritime and fishing industry magazine published since 1927 and regarded as the primary reference for fishing and marine activities in Spain and Portugal, asked me for an interview.

The result (in Spanish) is below… it covers my views on fishing, its sustainability, the business (and hypocrisy)  of ecolabels, geopolitics, and how we degraded the labour side by commoditising crew as a cost rather than an investment. And similarly, we expect excellence from scientists and regulators, yet we pay for mediocrity at best.

I also discuss the double standards that seem to apply to fisheries compared to land-based activities, and how we would rightly make a fuss if there were a discussion panel on gender issues with four men in their 60s. However, I have rarely seen panels on fisheries and labour rights where any of the panellists have ever worked as fishers.

So yes, apologies to my only English readers; this blog is for those (like me) who grew up speaking Spanish, the second most spoken colonial language (English is the most spoken colonial language overall – including native and non-native speakers – mainly because of its role as a global lingua franca).

I am very thankful to Nieves García Figueira, IP deputy director of the magazine and interviewer for such a candid and frank interview and to the IP magazine for the opportunity.