China Paid $2 Million to Liberate Fishing Vessel Seized by Somali Security in Puntland
Eyl Nugaal – In a covert episode that rivals any high-sea adventure novel, the Chinese trawler LIAO DONG YU 578 was finally freed by Somali gunmen on January 13, 2025. The Sultry saga unfolded off the breezy coast of Eyl in Somalia’s Puntland state. Imagine a crew of 18, stranded on choppy waters, caught in a sinister plot birthed months earlier. Somali gunmen turned pirates staged a dramatic hijacking on the unforgiving shores, as first reported by the eagle-eyed sleuths at Somalia’s Kaab TV.
The Chinese embassy in Somalia dropped the news of the trawler’s release like a lifeline to a drowning sailor, though, for reasons best known to them, they kept mum about the intricacies of this release operation. Secretive much?
Kaab TV, unwilling to settle for the surface story, rolled up its sleeves for an exhaustive investigation, bringing to light the undercurrents that steered this hijack and the eventual freeing of vessel and crew.
Rewind to late November 2024. Picture this: gun-toting hijackers blindsiding the trawler near Xaafuun, a northeastern outpost of Somalia. Puntland officials spilled the beans to Kaab TV, revealing a plot twist right out of an action thriller — three of the trance’s security guards had tossed their allegiance overboard, joining the marauders.
Amidst the chaos, the captured vessel’s documentation was as expired as last week’s milk. Registered under Puntland’s domain, her papers fizzled out like old news in September 2024.
Brandishing AK-47 rifles, these mutinous guards turned marauders demanded a cool $10 million from the flabbergasted Chinese company. Holy high stakes!
In the thick of this nautical drama, enter Hassan, the fisherman-turned-hijacker with a salty axe to grind against these foreign fish snatchers. To Kaab TV, he voiced a palpable frustration. “These uninvited Chinese vessels rob us of our God-given bounty,” Hassan lamented, accusing the intruding foreigners of gutting local fish stocks to fill foreign stomachs.
His grievances aren’t without weight. The notorious LIAO DONG YU 578, less than a hop and a skip (or 30 miles) from the coast, cast a long shadow over the dwindling fish stocks vital to the coastal community of Eyl.
Rewind a bit further. In Raas Caseyr, disillusioned fishermen had rallied, begging the Puntland government to address this invasive menace of illegal foreign fishers, particularly the relentless fleets from Asia. Their cries, echoing like thunder, landed on indifferent ears.
Licensed by the Puntland Ministry of Fisheries and Marine Resources, the infamous trawler could hunt “all fish.” Its capture shed light on the dark interplay between legality and exploitation.
And it wasn’t just a local story. Enmeshed in international nets, the trawler was also tethered to the China Overseas Fishing Association in Dandong.
The way out of this maritime mire was as circuitous as the waves of negotiation for the vessel’s release, a dance moderated by clan elders and the Puntland government. Even Chinese Ambassador Wang Yu stepped into the fray.
On January 9, 2025, armed with diplomacy, mediations, and a suitcase stuffed with untraceable cash, Ambassador Wang ascended Bosaso’s shores, Puntland’s bustling harbor haven, for discussions with President Said Abdullahi Deni.
Spotlights turned to social media, as the Chinese Embassy heralded the diplomatic tête-à-tête on its burgeoning X (formerly Twitter) account.
Behind closed, salted doors, the deal was inked with a cool $2 million ransom, slid through the palms of clan elders to mollify the hijackers. The crew, weary but unharmed, were released without so much as a bruise, leaving governments promising to let this maritime mutiny trail off like a fading echo.
Yasin, a clan elder knee-deep in negotiations, confirmed the hijackers’ pacific submission, a condition etched with the promise of impunity post payment—one hell of a bargaining chip.
Yet, piracy’s profit had its price. The Chinese embassy, on January 13, drew a line in the sand, condemning this act of brazen piracy, glossing over the hush money swapped under the table.
The LIAO DONG YU 578, fortified by freedom funds, couldn’t speed away fast enough. But beneath the serene waters, a whirlpool of illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing continues to churn, gnawing away at Somali livelihoods.
Somalia’s coastline, sprawling across Africa with an invitation for fortune seekers, remains a tempting target for fleets unfurling their nets, unchecked. Questionable fishing agreements tighten their grip from Mogadishu to Puntland—ethics be damned.
Could there be a revival of piracy, the kind that once terrorized international waters? Or will cries for justice prevail over scofflaws ducking regulation? Only time and tides will tell.
The saga sails forth; penned and echoed by Report by Axadle.
Edited by: Ali Musa
alimusa@axadletimes.com
Axadle international–Monitoring