The Outlaw Ocean by Ian Urbina takes the readers on a bleak and almost dystopian view of life out in the deep ocean. With almost four years of hands-on experience traveling to countries to report on the myriad of topics and stories for the book, it’s a sobering and also horrifying experience to really learn about how bad conditions are in regard to the fishing industry and the poor people that get trapped in the system with literally no way to escape. Personally, I’ve always been a bit more fascinated with the deep ocean, especially mysterious deep-sea creatures, than with what’s going on in the sky and beyond. We literally have a planet that is almost 70% water compared to 30% land, and yet over half of that resource has yet to be discovered or mapped. Is it any wonder why the horrible events and stories that get documented in this book are so shocking? As the author will show, if countries continue to have no feasible way to patrol such a large swath of area, the more brazen and illegal things will continue to just happen.

After having read the book, I think one of the scarier aspects is how his reportings prove that things aren’t always black and white where crimes, committed hundreds of miles away from the port of departure, are concerned. It goes to show that this isn’t by accident. It’s more part of the design to help countries escape their duty of having to dedicate resources and, more importantly, money to investigate a crime that was committed technically outside of their territory. It goes to show that politics, politicians, bureaucrats, fishing committees, and basically whoever else creates laws on land are the very same people and groups that benefit from the very same horrendous crimes that get documented in The Outlaw Ocean. It’s pure evil genius. The sad part is that consumers such as ourselves are also a part of the problem. Reading and watching horrific crimes against humanity or simply even labor crimes committed by companies on land is much more relatable to viewers on YouTube than crimes committed in some random spot out in the deep ocean. Consumers also generally don’t question the seafood that gets put on their dinner plates but are more likely to ask if their steak was from a grass-fed cow or if their chickens were free range. Yes, I’m guilty of this.

Some of my favorite reported stories include the report on the nation of Sealand (A Rusty Kingdom), his trip to Somalia and unexpectedly finding himself reporting on the Somali 7 (The Somali 7), and finally, the cat-and-mouse game between The Sea Shepherd and the Japanese whaling vessel, the Nisshin-Maru (Hunting Hunters). His trip to Somalia was especially wild. The tension could be felt while reading his reporting and the overall situation. But regardless of which story was the most fascinating, they all generally have a similar theme in highlighting what can go wrong when evil and hard men are in charge of a crew of desperate laborers who literally have nothing to their names nor even in possession but the clothes on their bodies. I’m surprised there aren’t more reported stories or even a dedicated chapter on mutinies happening onboard these fishing vessels. While the Outlaw Ocean wouldn’t change my mind about eating seafood (I understand this is not the author’s goal), especially fish, I applaud his efforts and the professional journalism he’s done for this book. It’s obvious that more people should be aware of the crimes that happen out in the deep ocean, and this book is a good start. I’m also glad that the author has provided a lot of resources at the end of the book for readers who’d like to do more to help out the situation.