The vaquita is rapidly vanishing. Its population has fallen by 98.6% since 2011, leading scientists to warn it could be extinct within a matter of months.
The roughly 100 vaquitas that still existed in 2014 were down to just 30 by 2017. In early 2018, the species' total population was estimated to be as low as 12 individuals, and by 2019 that number had dropped to 10, according to acoustic monitoring. In July of 2019, researchers published a study warning that fewer than 10 vaquitas may be left, calling for immediate action to stop the species' "decline toward extinction."
At roughly 4 feet long and 90 pounds, vaquitas are already the planet's smallest marine mammals — vaquita means "little cow" in Spanish — and now they're also the most endangered. This species is yet another victim of poaching and international wildlife trafficking, but with an odd twist: No one is actually trying to kill it.
Unlike sharks, rhinos and many other animals slaughtered by humans, vaquitas have no black-market value. Unknown to science until 1958, the species was probably never abundant, living only in a corner of the Gulf of California. But the shy porpoises began showing up in shrimp nets in recent decades, not unlike the way dolphins were once plagued by tuna fishing. And while conservationists push for shrimpers to adopt vaquita-friendly gear, that threat is now being eclipsed by something even worse.
"We could have dealt with shrimping," says Zak Smith, staff attorney for the Marine Mammal Protection Project at the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC). "There are thousands of people in that area who depend on the shrimp, but there are options for that. There is vaquita-friendly gear they could be using. But when the totoaba issue came into it, that changed everything."
Accidentally on porpoise
A certified legally fished totoaba for sale at a Mexico City seafood fair in 2017. Poachers who illegally fish for totoaba with gillnets often kill endangered vaquitas, too. (Photo: Omar Torres/AFP/Getty Images)
The totoaba is a humble fish that poses no direct danger to vaquitas. The problem is that it does have black-market value in China, where its swim bladder is believed to have medicinal properties. That has led to intensive totoaba fishing in the Gulf of California, aka Sea of Cortez, even after Mexico protected the endangered fish in the 1970s. And since poachers hunt totoaba with huge gillnets — the same kind of indiscriminate netting traditionally used by local shrimpers — they inevitably catch vaquitas, too.
While most shrimpers are just trying to make a living, the high price of totoaba has also lured Mexico's notorious drug cartels into the mix. Totoaba swim bladders can sell for up to $10,000 per kilogram, making them more lucrative than marijuana. And if the Mexican government has struggled to convince ordinary anglers not to use gillnets, its hopes of persuading cartel-backed poachers are faint.
"There's real money to be made there, and these organizations are well-established and use force when they have to," Smith tells MNN. "So you can't just go up and nicely ask them not to use gillnets."
The annual vaquita decline improved slightly in 2010, from 9% a year to less than 5%, but the surge in totoaba poaching has since pushed it back up dramatically. The annual decline is now likely greater than 33%. A 2014 study warned the species had lost half its population in two years, leaving just 97 vaquitas alive, and now there may be fewer than 10.
The situation is so dire that scientists wanted to try a captive-breeding program, which first requires capturing live vaquitas — something that had never been attempted until 2017. It's a risky move with so few animals left in the wild, but according to Lorenzo Rojas-Bracho, chairman of the International Committee for the Recovery of the Vaquita (CIRVA), the effort involved the "best veterinarians and biologists in the world," and used extreme caution to avoid harming vaquitas.
"Capturing them is a very difficult decision. It implies risks, but it won't be rushed," he told Agence France-Presse in 2016. "In any sign of stress, we will let them be free."
That's what happened in October 2017, when scientists located and captured a live vaquita for the first time. It was a 6-month-old calf, and in what they called "an abundance of caution" due to signs of stress, team members with VaquitaCPR (Conservation, Protection, Recovery) decided to release the young vaquita.
"While we were disappointed we could not keep the vaquita in human care, we have demonstrated that we are able to locate and capture a vaquita," Rojas-Bracho said in a statement. "We also succeeded in transporting one and conducting health evaluations that are part of our protocols safeguarding the animals' health."
Unfortunately, the next capture went much worse. A mature female vaquita was caught in November 2017, and the team tried to release her after she also showed signs of stress, but she died in the process. "The release attempt was unsuccessful and life-saving measures were administered," VaquitaCPR said in a statement. "Despite the heroic efforts of the veterinary team, the vaquita did not survive."
"A devastating setback," marine conservation biologist and VaquitaCPR team member Andy Read wrote on Twitter. "There are no words to express how sad I feel."
The team is conducting tests to understand why the vaquita died, but with so few members of her species left, the capture program will be suspended for now. "There have been no additional attempts to rescue a vaquita porpoise since Nov. 4, and there will not be future attempts during the remaining period of the VaquitaCPR field operations," Steve Walker, a communications advisor with the National Marine Mammal Foundation, told San Diego's KFMB-TV.
Mexico has spent more than $50 million in recent years to save the vaquita, creating a 480-square-mile refuge in the Gulf of California and compensating local fishermen for lost income. In 2015, the government announced it would ban gillnets across 5,000 square miles of vaquita habitat for two years, buying more time for the development of vaquita-friendlier fishing nets. It also unveiled a $70 million plan to help anglers adapt, tasked the Mexican Navy with enforcement of vaquita protections, and stepped up surveillance with faster boats, aircraft and drones.
As the outlook continued to grow bleaker, the country's National Commission of Aquaculture and Fisheries announced in July 2016 that it will "permanently" ban gillnets across remaining vaquita habitat. On top of banning gillnets known as chinchorro line, the plan also targets night fishing and imposes other rules.
And in March 2018, Mexico's environment minister said the country might even legalize the trade of totoaba in a last-ditch effort to save the vaquita. The country is ramping up captive cultivation of totoaba to supply China, Reuters reported.
Moves like these are vital for vaquitas, many scientists and conservationists say, but they may still not be enough. "We are watching this precious native species disappear before our eyes," Rojas-Bracho said in a statement after CIRVA's 2016 survey results were released. "Our latest survey confirms the catastrophic decline before the emergency gillnet ban. This gillnet ban and strong enforcement must continue if we are to have any hope of saving the vaquita."
Poachers still haven't given up on using gillnets in vaquita habitat, despite growing scrutiny from Mexican authorities as well as the international community. They often venture out at night, and reportedly stay ahead of patrol boats with help from lookouts based on shore. A survey in late 2014 revealed aerial imagery of gillnet fishing boats inside the vaquita refuge, and this April 2016 drone video shows a boatful of totoaba poachers realizing they've been caught in the act:
"The fisheries agencies do have limited resources," Smith says, noting the refuge is "small compared to the whole Gulf of California, but it's still a lot to patrol by boat."
Still, the urgency of vaquitas' plight has led conservation groups to increase the pressure on Mexico. Days after a dead newborn vaquita washed up in northern Mexico, a coalition of conservation groups unveiled a campaign encouraging consumers to boycott shrimp from Mexico, a tactic meant to add economic incentive for Mexico to take vaquita protection seriously.
"Mexican fisheries agencies have known how to save the vaquita for years, but they've failed to take the necessary actions, protecting industry profits rather than this critically endangered species," says Kate O'Connell of the Animal Welfare Institute in a statement. "By supporting the Mexican shrimp boycott, consumers and seafood companies can send a clear signal to these agencies that enough is enough, and a permanent gillnet ban must be immediately established and fully enforced."
Some conservationists are also using sonar to locate gillnets in vaquita habitat. CIRVA, along with World Animal Protection and Monterey Bay Diving, used advanced sonar technology to identify discarded gillnets likely to entangle vaquitas, removing more than 80,000 square feet of net during expeditions in May and October of 2017.
"Finding and removing the nets is crucial for making the vaquita's habitat safer," Elizabeth Hogan of World Animal Protection said in a press release, "and we hope the Mexican government continues to enforce this animal's protection in the wild."
Even with a permanent gillnet ban, the vaquita probably can't be saved by Mexico alone. An effective solution will also need to involve the U.S. and especially China, Smith adds, since shrimp netted in the Sea of Cortez are often exported, and totoaba bladders are often smuggled into California before they're shipped across the Pacific.
New U.S. regulations could help, requiring all imported seafood to comply with federal marine-mammal laws. The rules were adopted in 2016 as part of a settlement with the NRDC and several other conservation groups, implementing a decades-old provision of the U.S. Marine Mammal Protection Act that could improve fortunes for many of the 650,000 whales, dolphins, porpoises and other marine mammals that are fatally entangled in fishing gear around the world every year.
"The new regulations will force other countries to step up and meet U.S. conservation standards — saving hundreds of thousands of whales and dolphins from dying on hooks and in fishing nets around the world," says Sarah Uhlemann of the Center for Biological Diversity (CBD). "The U.S. government has finally recognized that all seafood consumed in the United States must be 'dolphin-safe.'"
The rules will be applied globally by 2022, although the CBD has pushed for an emergency application to slow the vaquita's decline. In 2017, it filed a legal notice pressing the U.S. to ban all seafood imports from the vaquita's habitat.
The elephant in the room is still China, however, since that's where most global demand for totoaba comes from. China isn't exactly known as a leader in wildlife conservation — not only does it help fuel global demand for elephant ivory, rhino horn, shark fins and other unsustainable wildlife products, but it's also home to the most recently extinct marine mammal, the Yangtze river dolphin. Vaquitas are now considered the rarest marine mammal on Earth only because the Yangtze river dolphin, aka "baiji," was declared functionally extinct in 2007.
"A lot of people were alarmed by what happened to the Yangtze river dolphin, but now it's happening again in our own backyard," Smith says. "And it's entirely preventable. There's not a big trade-off. You can still keep shrimping; you just need to use different gear. We shouldn't see any marine mammal species go extinct in North America on our watch in this day and age."
Editor's note: This story has been updated since it was first published in January 2015.