Fishing for trouble in the high seas

Scandinavian Review, Spring/Summer 1997 by Olafur Stephensen

Iceland has traditionally been an archetypal "coastal state," in the sense that the economy is overwhelmingly dependent upon the rich fishing grounds off the Icelandic coast. For centuries Icelanders have tried to defend their fishing resources from the fleets of other European countries.

Fighting for the 200 Miles

In this century alone, Iceland fought three "cod wars" with Britain over unilateral expansions of Iceland's Exclusive Economic Zone. The Icelandic coast guard's tiny gunboats arrested British trawlers or cut and destroyed their nets, under the noses of the Royal Navy, which had been sent to protect them. Iceland's image became one of a small nation, fighting to protect its livelihood from larger and greedier countries.

In the more peaceful environment of diplomats and lawyers, Iceland was a prominent member of the group of coastal states within the United Nations and fought hard to secure coastal states' exclusive rights to utilize fishing resources within a 200-mile limit. This right was finally recognized in 1982, when the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea was signed.

Having a 200-mile Exclusive Economic Zone all for themselves at last, Icelandic fishermen did not need to look much further-for the time being. The expanding fishing zone had sustained a steady growth in fisheries-and consequently in the Icelandic economy in general-for decades. Icelanders did not build up a fishing "tradition" to secure fishing rights in remote waters in the way that many other fishing nations in the North Atlantic did, e.g., the Faeroes. In this respect, too, Iceland remained a pure "coastal state."

The High Seas Discovered-At a Bad Time

It was therefore no small change when, in the early 1990s, the Icelandic fishing industry started looking further than the 200 miles and decided to take part in the unregulated fishing in the high seas. The reason for this change was threefold (although the causes may be intertwined): First, Iceland's own resources had been mismanaged, with the result that fish quotas had to be cut drastically. Secondly, the fishing fleet, already with a capacity to land almost twice the allowable catch, was in desperate need of new assignments. Thirdly, Iceland's fishing industry had invested millions of dollars in all the world's continents in a short period.

The 1982 Convention on the Law of the Sea left around a quarter of the world's fishing resources outside national boundaries. Management of these resources was left to a largely voluntary system; states were subject to rather generally worded conservation and management responsibilities. By the beginning of the 1990s, it was clear that this system had failed. Many fish stocks were over-fished or in danger of extinction and fishing disputes-some of them bloody-were on the increase in most parts of the world. It was therefore clear that the international community had to take action to secure sustainable use of the ocean's living resources. In 1993, at the same time as Icelandic fishermen were about to "discover" the high seas, the UN called a conference on straddling fishing stocks (the ones that migrate between coastal and international waters, e.g., cod and herring) and highly migratory stocks, such as tuna. The aim of the conference was to reduce catches and set a framework which regional management institutions could use to solve conflicts and control fishing in a responsible way.

Iceland was thus a latecomer in an unregulated business, which was soon to become regulated. Iceland's rush to participate in high seas fishing had a Klondike-like air about it; trawler owners tried to fish as much as they could, in order to increase Iceland's-and their own-share in any prospective deals on the utilization of the fish stocks in question. And high seas fishing proved to be good and quick money, too.

At the UN's conference, Iceland still defended traditional coastal state interests, but Icelandic diplomats also argued that when it came to sharing out fishing rights on the high seas, states which were highly dependent upon fisheries were to get special treatment.

A Family Quarrel With Norway

The first destination in international waters was in fact just outside Iceland's own economic zone. On the Reykjanes Ridge, the northernmost part of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, there are rich redfish grounds. Foreign vessels, especially from Russia, but also from Poland, Norway and some European Union countries, had exploited them for years. Few doubted Iceland's right to utilize the redfish stock, since it is one of the "straddling" stocks, and migrates in and out of Iceland's own territorial waters.

The second destination, the Barents Sea, was much more controversial. In the summer of 1993 several dozens of Icelandic vessels headed north to fish from the Barents cod stock, which Norway and Russia had built up through several years' careful management and control. The Barents cod is straddling stock, too, and Icelandic fishermen were able to catch it as it migrated out of Norwegian territorial waters and into a relatively small patch of international waters, known as the Loophole. Norway and Russia protested loudly, but the Icelandic authorities claimed they did not have the legal means to prevent vessels flying the Icelandic flag from fishing in international waters.