Caught in the crosscurrents: fishers’ tales from the frontlines of sharpnose guitarfish decline

In the golden light of dawn, the fishing boats return to shore at Cox’s Bazar and Kuakata — two bustling coastal towns in southern Bangladesh. As the nets are emptied and sorted, a haunting reality emerges: among the various catches, a critically endangered species surfaces, often lifeless and destined for trade — the sharpnose guitarfish (Glaucostegus granulatus).

As part of my research into the reproductive biology of this elusive species, I spent months in these coastal areas, collecting biological samples and conducting in-depth interviews with fishermen and traders. What I discovered went beyond science — it told a story of desperation, profit, ignorance, and survival.

Despite being listed under Schedule I of Bangladesh’s Wildlife (Conservation and Security) Act 2012, which prohibits its capture, sale, or trade, the sharpnose guitarfish is still being landed, processed, and traded with alarming regularity. The reasons are deeply rooted in economic challenges and market dynamics. Fishermen repeatedly told me: “We don’t go out looking for guitarfish, but they get entangled, especially in  bottom-set unbaited longlines, locally known as Hazari Borshi.” Ironically, these longlines are typically used to target other ray species, yet they regularly ensnare large-sized guitarfish.

A fisherman carries a bottom-set, unbaited longline - an indiscriminate gear type posing severe threats to sharpnose guitarfish. Photo © Durjoy Raha Antu

But why are people still profiting from a protected species?

The answer lies in the unspoken value of its parts. Traders stated that the skin and fins of the sharpnose guitarfish have international demand — especially in Southeast Asian markets. A processor in Cox’s Bazar told me candidly, “The skin fetches a high price. Even the fins bring in good money. We mix its dried meat with bull shark meat to sell it sometime for better price.” In Kuakata Mohipur and Alipur fish landing and processing zone, I asked a trader why they prefer drying guitarfish instead of other legally traded species. His response was blunt: “Because our competitors are doing it. If someone else is profiting from guitarfish, why wouldn’t I?”

This mindset reflects a deeply rooted competition-driven trade. One trader pointed out, “I’ve never seen anyone fined  at a landing site or processing centre for handling guitarfish.” This lack of enforcement, combined with declining catches of other commercial species, has opened the door for illegal trade of species once considered rare or untouchable.

What is more alarming is that this trade occurs despite a visible awareness among fishers and traders that the species is protected. They know it’s risky. They know it’s illegal. But in the absence of viable alternatives, many say they have no choice.

At a landing site in Cox’s Bazar, fishers shared their stories during an interview — describing how the critically endangered sharpnose guitarfish often gets entangled in their gear. Though not their intended catch, it is still landed and traded. Photo © Durjoy Raha Antu

In parallel with these troubling findings, my research also looked into the reproductive patterns of the sharpnose guitarfish — data critical for understanding how to protect and potentially recover their populations. These fish have a low reproductive rate and a late age of maturity, making them especially vulnerable to overfishing. Even a small increase in fishing pressure can push them closer to extinction.

What I have learned through this journey is that conservation isn’t just about species — it’s about people. It’s about coastal communities fighting poverty, markets that reward exploitation, and a lack of enforcement that silently endorses the extinction of marine life.

This isn’t just a local issue. The demand that fuels this trade extends beyond Bangladesh’s borders. If global markets can create demand for the fins and skins of endangered guitarfish, then global responsibility must also play a role in stopping it.

We are standing on a knife’s edge — between conservation and collapse. The sharpnose guitarfish, a creature of ancient waters, deserves more than silent extinction. Let this be a call to protect what still remains — before it’s too late.