Favignana - From World’s Largest Cannery To Subsidized Tourist Attraction ff

For thousands of springtimes, as far back as the time of Odysseus, fishermen of Favignana have battled giant bluefin tuna lured into the vast chambers of their nets. This year, the nets were empty.

The ancient “mattanzas” (slaughters) of Atlantic tuna that come to spawn in the Mediterranean are now all but gone. The craving for sashimi in Japan and the world beyond has taken its toll, but that is only part of it.

Marine biologists say not only bluefin tuna but also other fish stocks are plummeting across the world, upsetting delicate natural food chains. Some fear irreversible damage has already been done. Even worse, international law experts add, little is being done to stop it. Despite all the evidence, high-tech fleets probe the last deepwater refuges, hardly troubled by authorities.

Legal quotas are too high, specialists say, and in any case are often pointless because too many crews lie about their catch. With a single bluefin worth as much as $150,000 on the Tokyo market, Italian and Russian organized crime is now involved, U.N. experts say.

Beyond uncontrolled fishing, specialists see damage from pollution, silt runoffs from over-engineered river systems, and the still uncertain impact of global warning. Tuna is a particular problem. Such common varieties as skipjack, found canned in supermarkets, fetch lower prices and are not in immediate danger. But prized bluefins are hunted down for sophisticated worldwide networks of Japanese buyers. About 20 percent of the world's dwindling supply is caught in the Mediterranean, where tuna stocks are most threatened. And bluefin are also endangered in the Atlantic and Pacific. The competition is fierce. At remote ports in Maine, boats that bring in bluefin find Japanese agents on their cell phones, eager to bid for the fish and ship them to Tokyo in coffinlike containers packed with ice.

Serge Garcia, a Frenchman who supervises fish-monitoring programs at the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) in Rome, says he is deeply disturbed by nearly every trend he sees.  As a scientist who answers to each of the FAO's member nations, he steers clear of advocacy. But, he said, the evidence speaks for itself: “Wherever you look, the numbers are going down.”  He calculated that fleets should be reduced by 30 to 40 percent to preserve stocks. Using almost weightless nylon-Kevlar lines up to 2,500 feet long and equipped with lights and tiny cameras, Mr. Garcia said, fisherman can locate giant old tuna hiding in underwater caves. “Only one of these big tuna can be worth as much as the most expensive Mercedes-Benz," Mr. Garcia said. "How do you expect criminal organizations not to want to be in on it?”

He said Mafia-owned fishing operations launder money from other activities and exploit official fishing subsidies. Other operators, he added, push for quick and maximum profit before enforcement can be tightened. “It's warfare out there, complete with military technology,” Mr. Garcia said. Within 20 years, he predicted, only the wealthiest will be willing to pay the necessary prices for the best cuts of tuna.

The World Wildlife Fund (WWF) and other groups campaign for fishing moratoriums in sensitive areas as well as rigorous patrols to enforce quotas. Some experts put hope in tuna ranches, which have grown fast since 1997. These are not breeding centers, as are common for salmon, but rather holding pens for wild tuna that are caught but not landed. At 30 Mediterranean sites, captured tuna are held in net corrals for five to 20 months until they fatten.

Proponents say this allows prices to stabilize and adds more meat to the market. But in practice, the WWF says, tuna penning wreaks its own sort of havoc by disrupting natural cycles and seasonality, and by opening new markets for tuna. These, a WWF report says, have “made the situation of wild stocks even more perilous.” None of this is news to the Favignana fisherman, whose annual running of the tuna has dwindled from the mainstay of the world's biggest cannery to a subsidized curiosity for tourists.

Once celebrated as valiant holdouts of an ancient way of life, these men now survive on odd jobs and hang around the wharf exchanging tales of the good old days. “Maybe it's not over completely,” said sunburned, barrel-chested Giocchino Cataldo. “And maybe it is. Either way, this beautiful life has turned ugly.”

Last year, when the Favignana mattanza brought in bluefin, Japanese buyers snapped them up and shipped them to Tokyo. This year, the fishermen put their nets in the water, but they came up empty.