For sturgeon poachers, little to fear By C.J. Chivers The New York Times SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 2005 NARDARAN, Azerbaijan The gray skiffs come and go in the dim November light, each crew accelerating its vessel's bow through the surf as they head offshore to pull nets. Just up the beach, behind a wall draped with drying mesh, a crew handles its catch: 12 freshly landed osetra and sevruga sturgeon. A fisherman works the knife, unzipping the dead fish with swift sweeps of a blade. These fishermen are poachers, chasing one of the world's most threatened and coveted fish, although judging by the indifferent police officers stationed not far away, even highly organized poaching here carries few risks. Instead, it has been a good day. Not only is there enough meat to turn a profit in the restaurant trade in Baku, the Azeri capital, but two of the fish were heavy with Azerbaijan's original black gold, caviar, worth $300 to $500 a kilogram on the local black market, or roughly $10 to $15 an ounce, and more than 10 times that when it reaches Europe and the United States. No resource, not even the oil that has shaped this region's politics and economies, is more richly associated with the Caspian basin than the sturgeon, a group of primeval fish bound to human history along the shores of the world's largest landlocked body of water. Once fare for pashas and czars, its briny eggs are among the most valuable wildlife commodities on earth. Now, scientists say, the Caspian's sturgeon risk entering a final spiral. The fish have faced compounding problems for decades. Dams have walled off their spawning grounds. Pollution has silted and choked waterways. Since the Soviet Union's collapse, unchecked fishing and struggling hatcheries have led to catches of less than 10 percent of historic highs. As many as 80 percent of the remaining fish are male, scientists say, the lopsided result of years of harvesting females for eggs. But the sturgeon's latest enemy may be its most lethal: corruption. Although the fish's plight is well documented, and international and domestic regulations protect the surviving stock on paper, the region's manifest lawlessness and graft undermine rules to the point of uselessness. The activities in Nardaran and Baku show why. Several species live offshore, including sevruga, osetra and the huge beluga, a species capable of growing to a length of five meters, or 16 feet, and a weight of more than a ton. Except for a few years after the Soviet Union broke apart, and for limited quotas in Iranian waters, fishing at sea for these species has been banned in the Caspian since the early 1960s. And yet a fleet fishes for them in plain view. All afternoon the boats buzz back and forth, their crews wading through the surf to secure returning skiffs to trailers before driving off with the catch. One of the local fisherman, Ali, who asked that his last name be withheld so the police would not readily know who he is, says there are 11 sturgeon boats in Nardaran alone, and 3 more in a neighboring village. Where he used to work, near the Iranian border, he said, as many as 200 boats were involved. These bustling illegal enterprises operate freely, the fishermen say, because they share profits with fishing inspectors and the police. Ali said that to stay in business with his boat, a nine-meter wooden skiff with twin outboard engines, he pays $500 a month to the authorities, and he gives fishing inspectors a few fish when they ask. "We are on kind of a family basis," he said. Rauf Gadjiyev, who directs sturgeon conservation efforts at Azerbaijan's Ministry of Ecology and Natural Resources, said that while limited corruption undermines the regulations, he thinks it is less pervasive and developed than fishermen describe. "Of course there are dishonest people who would do it," he said. "But you understand it is strictly illegal." Others say illegal behavior defines the Caspian sturgeon trade. "In Russia they actually go out and patrol, but to collect their money," said Ellen Pikitch, co-author of a recent study in the journal Fish and Fisheries that documented sturgeon declines worldwide. "In Kazakhstan it is so pitiful that the officials, the game wardens, do not even bother to go out." The sturgeon in the Caspian are covered by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Flora and Fauna, which mandates that nations create conservation policies for threatened species. In September the United States banned the import of beluga caviar and meat. On Nov. 9, the Azeri government issued new regulations on the domestic sturgeon market. The law requires monthly reports about the trade, as well as better labels proving that sturgeon products have been legally caught. But, historically, regulations have had little effect on Caspian poaching. In Azerbaijan the lawlessness begins at sea and continues inland. Two fish shops display sturgeon hanging along the shoulder of the main road into Nardaran. A police car with two officers was parked across the street from one of the shops. In Baku's main bazaar, osetra sturgeon are stacked like logs in public view, and illegal caviar is sold beside pomegranates and dried fruits. Every restaurant of 12 surveyed served fresh sturgeon grilled, baked or in soups. What makes illegal sales especially threatening, scientists say, is that sturgeons' natural life cycles make them particularly vulnerable to overfishing. They reach sexual maturity late, often not until they are 10 years old, and they spawn rarely, in some cases once every six years. This gives them little chance to replenish themselves. It also means that females spend years carrying eggs. And in a nation where poverty afflicts roughly 40 percent of the population, egg-laden fish pull boats to sea. The possibility of riches is too alluring. Ali said that since last year he has caught only three beluga sturgeon, the most valuable species. But one weighed almost a ton. After he and his crewmates cut the fish open, he said, they pulled out 100 kilograms of eggs. At today's prices, that could draw $50,000 for a day's work. It would ultimately sell for as much as $650,000 in the West. With such prices, the short-term market logic militates against conservation. As sturgeon become more scarce, they become more coveted, pushing prices higher and creating greater incentive to fish. The dynamic is perfectly counterproductive: The best money is in the eggs, the part of the fish needed to replenish stocks. http://iht.com/articles/2005/11/27/news/sturgeon.php