The battle for the “cocaine of the sea” has spawned a murky conflict amongst environmentalists, Mexican cartels, and Chinese traffickers. It is an ongoing war that wilfully scars and disfigures a prosperous ecosystem, acclaimed for its endemic species and iconic migratory animals such as humpback whales, leatherback sea turtles and whale sharks. But this war, catch by catch, intends to blindly profit, inevitably threatening this natural sanctuary. What is the cocaine of the sea and why is it worth fighting over?
Between the Baja Californian peninsula and the Mexican mainland lies the alluring sea of Cortez, refuge to the prized cocaine of the sea: the totoaba. Growing more than six feet long and weighing up to 300 pounds, this critically endangered fish has attracted the greed of traffickers and fishermen alike, drawn to the quick cash which comes with a successful catch. Unfortunately, it is not just the totoaba directly suffering and being entangled. The controversial methods used to catch totoaba are inadvertently driving the extinction of our planet’s smallest cetacean, the vaquita.
A small marine mammal roughly four and a half feet long, the vaquita is in the family that includes whales, dolphins, and porpoises. Characteristically shy, this endemic species still cling to the shallow coastal waters within the sea of Cortez, but the numbers of individuals left are frightening. From over 700 individuals alive in 1993, estimates today disastrously predict that only 10 vaquitas remain, making them the world’s rarest wild mammal.
In such a visibly hopeless situation, is it possible to save the world’s most endangered marine mammal whilst dissolving the concealed trade for the cocaine of the sea?
Ultrasonic vocalizations emitted by vaquita are used to monitor their population numbers. Less than 10 are now believed to remain. It is hard to call these species shy when there are so few left.
PHOTOGRAPH BY Flip Nicklin/ Minden Pictures
The hunger for totoaba is driven by the demand of the Chinese black market. Once caught, a totoaba is hurriedly stripped of its swim bladder, before the fishermen conceal the evidence, tossing the rest of the fish’s body back into the sea of Cortez. A swim bladder is a gas-filled organ that aids fish in controlling their buoyancy, but it became a desired delicacy in Chinese cuisine praised for its medicinal properties.
Totoaba however has not always been on the Chinese marketplace. Before they were smuggled to China using various routes through Hong Kong and the USA, fish bladders were sourced in China itself. Chinese bahaba, a fish known as the giant yellow croaker, previously filled this demand. They were found ranging in waters from the Yangtze River estuary in Shanghai all the way down the coast to Hong Kong. As spawning sites were destroyed and overfishing ensued, mainly powered by the mechanistic shift to industrial fishing, the swim bladder market has had to turn its attention to a new source. Overall, this shift in focus has created the same fate for totoaba. Now critically endangered, the prices fetched for their swim bladders on the Chinese black market can reach upwards of $46,000 per kg.
The Mexican totoaba replaced the Chinese bahaba species on the Chinese market now fetching astronomical prices for their prized swim bladder.
PHOTOGRAPH BY Richard Herrmann/ Minden Pictures
Although fishing for totoaba was declared illegal in 1975 by the Mexican government, fishermen still pursue the animal, undeterred by the quick cash it provides. However, the way in which these fish are caught has undeniably destructive effects on other species in the sea, no such more than on the vaquita. To catch a totoaba fishermen use a gill net. This piece of equipment consists of a net hanging vertically in the water column, held in place by weights at the bottom and floats at the top. As the totoaba and vaquita are similar in body size, the mesh size of the net carelessly ensnares both species that swim into it, leaving the vaquita as unintended bycatch. These species regrettably are not the only victims of these gill nets, great white sharks, rays and even humpback whales have become entangled in the nets.
Gill nets can stretch over hundreds of meters in length killing various marine life. Illegal fishermen also dump and abandon their nets to avoid the authorities, creating 'ghost nets' which unnecessarily increase the amount of bycatch and plastic pollution in the sea of Cortez.
PHOTOGRAPH BY Shutterstock
Another blurred aspect of this complicated conflict is the manipulative dynamic between fishermen and cartels. Environmental degradation in the region has led to the decline in available fish limiting the livelihoods of those not even targeting the totoaba. In reality, this portrayed greed of the fishermen is not as vicious and uncaring as it may resemble on the surface. As an industry declines and locals become desperate, struggling to maintain an income for themselves and their families, the cartels have presented many with a lifeline. Gill nets are not cheap and can cost $3000-4000 for one. These are provided to fishermen who in return agree to use their profits from totoaba catches to repay the cost of the initial cartel investment. When nets are lost or damaged and money remains unpaid, fishermen have been murdered for not delivering on their promise. A lifeline for some, but the opposite for others.
The swim bladder of totoaba is often dried and used in traditional Chinese medicine, with consumers believing it has the ability to heal medical conditions such as arthritis.
PHOTOGRAPH BY Joana Chiu
Despite the obvious plummet in vaquita numbers and ongoing damage to ecosystems as a result of unintentional but constant bycatch, conservation actions within the Gulf of California have not been strict enough. They have not worked. Initially, a vaquita refuge zone was established in 2005. This banned all commercial fishing within this given area. However, as totoaba fishing accelerated the Mexican government finally stepped in by creating a gill-net exclusion zone in 2017, banning all gillnets and night fishing in the upper Gulf of California. The continual desperation of the situation led the government to look in a new direction, choosing to fund the multimillion-dollar VaquitaCPR project.
In 2017, a team of international conservationists, veterinarians and scientists were all assembled with the aim of transferring half the population of vaquita into protected sea pens to ensure the survival of the species. As the first two females were captured and transferred to the pens, one was showing noticeable signs of serious distress. Worried about the health of the precious animals, the team hastily decided to release them, with the first eagerly returning to its home. But the second vaquita would not respond due to the initial stress caused by the capture, ultimately dying in the hands of those trying to save them. VaquitaCPR was abandoned.
By the point that these two policies were tried and implemented, vaquita numbers in 2017 were already dismally as low as 30. We need to respond at the first sign of decline rather than allowing situations to reach these subsequent desperate measures.
With extensive government policies failing to protect the region, non-profit organisations such as Sea Shepherd have provided incredibly selfless support. The Sea Shepherd crew spend their days and nights pulling up net after net, but also tracking down illegal fishermen with cutting edge drone technology. From spoiling the opportunity of a catch by removing nets, Sea Shepherd’s ships and their crew have been met with aggressive scare tactics from the fishermen, including frequent gunfire. They have teamed up directly with the Mexican navy who are called in to handle arrests after Sea Shepherd confirms the fishermen's vessel's involvement in illegal poaching activity.
Although the devoted work of the Mexican navy and Sea Shepherd is valuable and extraordinary, these measures are only suppressive. If the demand is still present, there will undoubtedly always be other fishermen ready to risk their lives to make a living. We need to also focus to reduce the demand.
Since 2015, the crew of the non-profit organisation Sea Shepherd, have removed over 1000 pieces of illegal fishing equipment from the vaquita refuge area.
PHOTOGRAPH BY Guillermo Arias
Regrettably, as these wildlife crisis stories become ever more familiar, we begin to question is whether there is a point in putting these conservation practices in place when the demand is so rampant. Wherever there is a pretty price attached people will always be compelled to find a way to exploit and profit from nature.
There needs to be a global response and education in understanding how our actions are all remarkably interconnected. Buying a single animal product from across the world may not seem initially detrimental on the surface, but we are naively disjointed from the local people and wildlife that suffer in the process. We do not see the first-hand action of where wildlife products come from and are shielded from what it takes to source something from the wild, whether that be a pet frog, an elephant tusk or a totoaba swim bladder.
As the main demand comes from China, they have a responsibility to broaden the educational side surrounding the fish bladder industry to hopefully reduce demand. This is a vital step in turning the tide on the demand for these animal products. However, we also must combat the desperation of people employed in trafficking practices by offering alternative incomes for people in the region. When gill net fishing was banned in the upper Gulf of Mexico, protests broke out amongst fishermen who rely desperately on this practice for money. With no support or alternative income in place, desperation will just lead to more people being open to fish totoaba to make ends meet.
By losing the vaquita it would be the second cetacean to become extinct because of human pressures. Baiji, the Chinese river dolphin was the first, which called the Yangtze River home for 20 million years before being declared extinct in 2006 after 50 years of intense human pressure. Species by species we are creating a brutal unneeded trend. The list of our wildlife crimes is ever-growing.
Do 10 little porpoises matter in the grand scheme of the ecosystem’s function, or have they now become a symbol of hope that by protecting these species we have a chance at saving our planet as it looms further into the uncharted Anthropocene?
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