‘It smells like a rancid fish and chip shop’: at sea with the Antarctic’s krill supertrawlers | Endangered species

IIt’s freezing cold on the deck of the Allankay and the boatswain, Luca Massari, checks that none of us are wearing contact lenses before descending into the Antarctic waters. There is a risk, he warns, that the lenses will freeze to the eyes. Massari himself is prepared for his environment. He wears thick glasses that make him look like an Olympic ski jumper.

Massari is a burly, heavily tattooed veteran of the environmental organization Sea Shepherd, which campaigns against ocean exploitation. His deck team prepares to launch the ship’s small boat, which Massari will captain. Eight of us are grouped together in bright red dry suits, helmets and life jackets; the average time needed to survive hypothermia in this wind-whipped water is just five minutes.

I’m in the waters off Coronation Island, in the South Orkney Islands, a 25-mile glacial finger of jagged mountain slopes a day’s sail from the Antarctic Peninsula. It’s as isolated as a place can be. Yet Sea Shepherd says it is the site of one of the most inaccessible and environmentally ruinous industrial workplaces in the world.

Sea Shepherd refers to fishing for krill, a small shrimp-like marine crustacean (Superb euphausia) which feed on plankton and are the main food source for larger marine animals. They also have enormous commercial value, made into ruby ​​red fish oil capsules sold in health food stores as well as the fish meal used to give farmed salmon its pink hue. The trade is valued at more than $450m (£335m) a year.

This trade is legal and regulated by an intergovernmental body. It sets an annual quota – 620,000 tonnes currently – and ships in these waters compete to get the largest and most lucrative share before the cap is reached.

Antarctica’s ecosystem depends on krill, a fundamental food source for the region’s birds, penguins, seals and whales. And there is evidence to suggest that krill fishing is already having a significant impact on the Antarctic food chain. A peer-reviewed scientific study by a coalition of U.S. and German universities suggests that the number of krill in the ocean is insufficient to support the existing whale population and commercial fisheries.

Other studies show that humpback whales reproduce less, as do penguin species. Fewer krill brings other environmental downsides. Krill is a “carbon storage powerhouse,” according to a WWF study; fewer of them means more carbon dioxide emitted into the atmosphere.

The Allankay, which sailed 34 days from New Zealand through Argentina to Coronation Island, is there to document the krill fishery.

Once Massari’s small boat, with us on board, has received permission from Allankay’s captain to dock in Antarctic waters, we begin our slow descent. The winch is firm, its operator experienced, and yet the boat still shudders when we hit the waves. Immediately we are dwarfed by the 12 giant krill fleet ships surrounding us, flying the flags of China, Chile, Norway, South Korea and a Ukrainian vessel registered in Namibia.

Last year, around 620,000 tonnes of krill were trawled in Antarctica – a record catch that was halted only because the trigger limit was reached. Figures from previous years show that Norway accounts for the largest share of catches, followed by China. Much of the krill is caught in the waters around Coronation Island.

The scene before us is a surreal fusion of nature and humanity. Ships load 20-metre pulsating sausage-like green nets filled with krill into their holds, while albatrosses and hundreds of petrels with distinctive black and white wings dive in their wake. Whale flukes or tails peer out above the water and baby penguins jump alongside like butterfly swimmers.

The Allankay crew, made up of 16 men and 15 women, comes from 12 countries. Most of them are volunteers. One of them is Luci Connelly, an Australian deckhand who sails on Massari’s small boat. “The smell from these krill trawlers is like rancid fish and chips,” she says.

We draw closer, drenched in spray, Connelly’s description becoming more and more apt. I regret not bringing pince-nez – pong is spicy.

The Sea Shepherd campaign has two stages. This is the first: a struggle for attention. Later, scientists will continue their research into the impact of industrial fishing on Antarctic whales.

Drawing attention to any cause in the age of social media means creating compelling content. Massari therefore makes his outings, piloting the small boat with practical ease so that photographers and videographers can film.

The small boat passes bluish-tinted icebergs to approach three Chinese-flagged ships within kissing distance of each other. The main boat is the Fu Yuan Yu 9199, a new Chinese factory ship that trawls for krill, processes it into various products and packages them for shipment to the adjacent ship. The Fu Yuan Yu 9199 is 139 meters long, and as we swayed in its wake, a crane carried packed crates of krill meal. The third ship is a refueling ship that resupplies the main Chinese ship.

The orange-clad workers on the Chinese ships ignore us, but the crews on other ships are conducting their own version of an information campaign. Norway’s two supertrawlers, Antarctic Sea and Antarctic Endurance, display banners with various messages, including “Congratulations on the High Seas Treaty,” “Science First” and the address of a website run by Aker Biomarine, a company that supplies krill as an ingredient in health products.

The company’s website says it operates “under the strict governance of the Antarctic Marine Wildlife Conservation Commission.” [CCAMLR]. Catch limits are capped at less than 1% of the total krill biomass… and each operation is monitored by independent observers.

The goal of Sea Shepherd’s latest campaign is to stop all krill fishing in Antarctica, an epic challenge given that CCAMLR is consensus-based. Its members include countries trawling around Coronation Island and they fail to reach consensus on conservation measures.

In a statement, CCAMLR said: “While most members expressed the urgent need to distribute catches to avoid excessive concentration at the last session of the commission in October 2025, to date there has been no scientific evidence to suggest a specific threat to krill as a keystone species or to Antarctic marine ecosystems in general. » At this meeting, Norway proposed almost doubling the catch trigger limit.

For Sea Shepherd, the expansion of the industry outpaces the time needed to gather information to assess the consequences of the trade. “Without solid evidence to assess ecological impacts, efforts to increase catch limits risk causing irreversible damage to one of the last true wildernesses on our planet,” says Allankay Director General Baptiste Brebel. That’s why their joint efforts are mobilizing media and science in these frigid waters to avoid what they believe will be a tipping point for the region’s krill and the animals that live on them.

Massari takes the boat back to the relative shelter of the Allankay. Connelly attaches the winch and signals the operator above us to get up. The Allankay feels like firm ground after hours of sailing the small boat.

Massari is excited about what the camera crew captured. “Every small boat trip contributes to our larger mission,” he says, removing his glasses.