In Taiwan’s Waters, a Hunt for Tiny, Wriggling ‘Gold’
by Amy Chang Chien and Tiffany May, March 31, 2023, NY Times
The hunters waded into the water after dark, their headlamps beaming as they tossed nets into the crashing waves over and over again.
All night, they shook muck from the nets, sorting out their prizes: wriggling, transparent baby eels, each no thicker than a vermicelli noodle. They were worth their weight in gold, or nearly. The fishermen dropped them into jars of water, which some of
them hung around their necks on string.
“Sometimes it’s gold, sometimes it’s dirt,” said Dai Chia-sheng, who for a decade had spent his winters fishing for glass eels, as the baby eels are called. Brought in by the ocean currents every year, the eels had lured families like Mr. Dai’s
to Taiwan’s coasts for generations.
But the lure is fading.
“We used to see the industry as profitable, but now more and more people have doubts,” Mr. Dai said.
Around the world, there are far fewer eels than there used to be. Conservationists say that the most commonly traded eel species are threatened. In Taiwan, as elsewhere, their numbers have dropped because of overfishing, the loss of their riverside
habitats to development and, more recently, climate change, said Han Yu-shan, a professor at the Institute of Fisheries Science at National Taiwan University.
In the 1980s and ’90s, Taiwan’s eel industry was thriving, fueled by Japan’s appetite for unagi. There were years when exports to Japan alone totaled $600 million. But those days are gone.
In 2022, Taiwan exported just $58 million worth of eels in total. China, whose vast deepwater fleet has been accused of endangering fishing stocks worldwide, long ago eclipsed Taiwan as Japan’s main source of imported eels.
Professor Han said that while global warming’s effects on eels had not been closely studied, fishermen in Taiwan think that changes in temperature affect the tides that bring in their catch.
“The warmer the seawater is, the lower the fish would swim,” which makes them harder to catch, said Kuo Chou-in, 68, president of the Taiwan Eel and Shrimp Exporters’ Association.
Fishermen like Mr. Dai sell their eels to wholesalers along the Lanyang River in Yilan County, easily spotted by the signs that read “accepting eels.” Wholesalers pay as much as $40 per gram — gold is about $63 for the same amount — with about
six eels to a gram.
From there, they go to aquaculture farms, where they are raised to maturity. (To protect its dwindling stocks, Taiwan has banned the export of glass eels during the winter fishing season, but many are smuggled out as part of a global, multibillion-dollar
black market.)
Before being flown to Japan and other countries, mature eels’ last stop in Taiwan is a packaging plant, where they’re packed in bags of water with thick slabs of ice. Ms. Kuo, the export association president, owns one of those plants, in the
northern city of Taoyuan.
She is a rare woman in a male-dominated industry. On a winter evening, she strode the floor of her plant in galoshes, talking to clients on the phone and occasionally dipping her arms into vats, to catch the slithering eels and sort them into streams.
Ms. Kuo began her career at 21 with a Japanese import-export company that dealt in, among other things, eels. She caught her first glimpse of them as an interpreter, during a site visit at a packaging plant. She was fascinated by how the workers, using
only their hands, caught the eels and accurately judged their weight.
After 17 years at the company, Ms. Kuo lost her job when Japan’s bubble economy crashed. She went into business for herself in 1992, depleting her savings and mortgaging two properties to buy factory equipment. She said she slept in her car for years.
Eventually, the frugality and hustle led to a grander lifestyle. Ms. Kuo now drives a convertible and has been profiled in Taiwanese media (which dubbed her “the eel queen.”) She once appeared on a Japanese television show to cook samples of her
product for a panel of judges.
“The Taiwanese eels won the competition,” she recalled with a smile. “Our eels are the best.”
Glamour is harder to find in the often-polluted estuaries where glass eels are caught. The fishermen stand for hours, dipping basket-like nets in and out of the water, or they swim out after tying themselves to metal anchors on the beach.
Chen Chih-chuan, a part-time technician, said he almost died once while swimming for eels. “I lost the strength to pull the rope. I let go and let myself float in the sea,” he recalled during a break along the Lanyang River.
“Now I’m older and more experienced,” said Mr. Chen, who wore a green, rubbery full-body suit and yellow boots. “I won’t push myself to that extent.” He leaped back into the waves.
Mr. Chen said he had managed to make $8,000 this season — an amount he was satisfied with, though down from previous years.
The price of eels plummeted during the pandemic, as restaurants closed and global shipping was thrown into disarray.
Chang Shi-ming, 61, caught eels as a young man near the city of Changhua on Taiwan’s western coast. In the early 1990s, a sprawling petrochemical plant went up there. Smoke and steam rise from its many chimneys, blanketing the nearby grass with white
dust. He said the harvest has never been the same.
“We’ve seen so much damage over the past years,” Mr. Chang said. “There are very few eels this year.” That, at least, is what he hears; about 20 years ago, Mr. Chang switched to cultivating clams, which is less labor-intensive.
His eldest son works at the petrochemical plant. “It’s just a job,” Mr. Chang said.
Chiang Kai-te, 43, a part-time construction worker, had spent many years working odd jobs when a friend’s success convinced him to try eel fishing. He moved from his hometown to a village by the Lanyang River. He saw his 4-year-old son and his parents
only on weekends, when they visited.
The work had proved hard to master and the nightly catch difficult to predict, ranging from 10 to 100 baby eels. On a recent outing, he caught fewer than 20.
“It’s hard to cash in,” said Mr. Chiang, slumped on the ground from exhaustion. “My whole family relies on me.” He said he was on the verge of quitting.
“I don’t think it’s sustainable to keep doing this,” he said.
Nearby, half a dozen retirees were having a better time, grilling chicken wings around a small pit. They were members of the Amis tribe, one of Taiwan’s Indigenous ethnic groups.
Eel fishing was not an Amis tradition, but the friends had been spending their winters in Yilan County for a decade, setting up camp in tents fitted with wooden doors. After fishing, they would crack open beers and talk cheerfully into the night.
“We’re here not just for eels, but also for spending time with friends,” said Wuving Vayan, 58, who was using a grimy flotation device as a makeshift stool. “It’s one of the happiest moments during a year.”
“We can’t control the changes of the climate,” she added. “All we can do is pray for good weather and harvest.”
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COMMENTS [11]
MBDinDC, Washington, D.C., March 31
How about not catching and eating eels as their numbers decline precipitously? Maybe that would help.
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han, No Cal, March 31
Taiwan’s negative impact on eel stocks is negligible.
The real culprit when it comes to stealing from the oceans is China. China steals the ocean’s resources, often in waters belonging to other countries, leaves a wasteland behind that makes it impossible for stocks to recover.
China is the bad player, not Taiwan. This article was almost a feel-good human interest story. Very interesting.
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Bella, the city different, March 31
Another sad story about how humans continue to destroy the only home that we have.
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AlexNB, Los Angeles, March 31
Hope everyone is looking forward to a future of eating freshly caught jellyfish and blobfish, or whatever else is left over after we selfishly eradicate fish stocks...
1 REPLY
nerdrage, SF, April 1
@AlexNB: Or squid. At least that's tasty.
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Jeff, OR, March 31
Too many people eating too much seafood. Will it change? Only once they’ve eaten every last fish. Please explore eating less meat and seafood.
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Sir Bernard, Manhattan, NY, March 31
It’s not so much about how climate change has affected the environment but moreover [Conservationism] in order to keep by maintaining a balance between environmental sustainability, climate protection, and conservation of the ecosystem. If (1) clean
ups through adding mollusks (clams, mussels and/or oysters) to clean pollution from the waterways will result in an increased number of eels to thrive, and (2) creating more eels in captivity or farming for the shortfall. There should be greater emphasis
placed on protecting the environment from environmental impacts. Raising productivity standards should be bettered through conservation and collaboration with everyone involved.
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noplanetb, Duesseldorf, Germany, March 31
Eels have been around for 70 million years, but since the 1980s most species have rapidly declined, some more than 90%, including the Japanese, the American, and the European eel, which are all considered endangered (IUCN Red List of Threatened Species).
Eels are one of the most poached and trafficked fish worldwide, since glass eels (like those hunted by the people who are the subject of this article) are sold to be raised to maturity on Japanese farms - glass/baby eels can't be artificially spawned,
and eels of all types are notoriously resistant to breeding in captivity, hence the extremely high price for baby eels.
And between 40-60% of those eels come from illegal sources (WWF), often poached, from China, Taiwan, and Europe.
I don't see why there has to be an article glorifying the eel trade, when eels are so endangered?
Why not report on efforts to save eel species around the world instead? --------------
T, Ontario, Canada, March 31
Another story that demonstrates the collapse of non-human species caused by our over-consumption, our taking over other species' habitats, and human-induced climate change resulting in uninhabitable habitats for them.
Yet, few alarms and pretty much zero action on the real problem: the 8 billion humans on this planet - about 6 billion too many to allow for a balance among species.
Worse, few people seem to even notice or care. This will not end well, and we may very well have already have reached the tipping point. And no, technology will NOT be able to fix this. Mother Nature is in charge, not us. We have failed her.
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Erik Frederiksen, Asheville, NC, March 31
The ocean for many is out of sight and mind. But Atlantic fish stocks are now between 1/1,000 and 1/10,000 of what they were just 150 years ago.
The continental shelves used to be forests of sponges and corals, critical habitat for fish development.
Trawling has reduced to mud, to parking lot, a greater area of the ocean floor than the entire area of forests cut down in the history of humanity.
We are a water planet and as goes the ocean go we.
1 REPLY
Dimitra Lavrakas, Gloucester, MA, April 1
@Erik Frederiksen: Absolutely true. Thanks for this.
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/31/world/asia/taiwan-eels.html
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