In Scotland, the fishing practice of scrapping ocean bottom continues despite protection promises
Bally Philp hauls its baited traps from the waters off the Isle of Skye, Scotland, and checks each one regularly. Unlike much of Scotland’s coastline, these waters are protected from industrial fishing methods that are destroying seabeds elsewhere. But Philip, who has been fishing for more than three decades, has seen conditions deteriorate almost everywhere along the coast.
“The coastal archipelago off the West Coast of Scotland used to be full of fish,” Philp said. “There are no commercial quantities of fish left on the shore.”
Although 37% of Scotland’s waters are designated Marine Protected Areas, only a small fraction have management measures in place to provide this protection, according to environmental groups. Bottom trawling and dredging methods that dredge the seabed are allowed in around 95% of Scotland’s coastal waters, including designated conservation areas, according to marine conservation groups.
Bottom trawls drag heavy nets across the seafloor, crushing marine habitats. This method causes intense carbon pollution: It burns almost three times more fuel than other fishing methods, and the nets disturb seabed sediments, releasing stored carbon into the ocean. Bottom trawlers often throw a significant portion of their catch back into the sea, and the survival rates of discarded marine life are often very low.
The problem is not just in Scotland. Across Europe and globally, bottom trawling in protected areas is widespread and often unregulated; industrial ships operate in waters officially designated for protection. A 2024 report from the Marine Conservation Society and Oceana found that 90% of protected marine areas in seven European countries, including the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark and Spain, were subject to bottom trawling between 2015 and 2023, with ships logging 4.4 million hours of bottom trawling in protected waters.
In 1984, the long-standing three-mile ban on bottom trawling along much of the Scottish coast was lifted. Fishing catches in areas such as the Clyde have plummeted; Hunting of many species is now only a fraction of historical levels.
Philp began his fishing career working on trawlers in the late 1980s. By then, fish had become bycatch; undesirable species caught accidentally and which are generally illegal to land under newly introduced quota systems. His duty was to throw them into the sea with an oar and die.
“You see a stream of dead fish flowing behind the boat,” he said. “It’s a heartbreaking thing to see.”
He decided to fish with baited traps instead; This is a method that causes minimal damage to habitat and allows most bycatch to survive returning to the sea.
But this choice means limiting itself to a dwindling number of areas where this type of fishing is viable. Reefs across much of the UK have been severely damaged or destroyed by scallop dredging. Loch Alsh, where Philp worked, contains some of the most intact reefs remaining.
Philip, who has been a fisherman for three generations, says he will be the last person in his family to make a living in the industry. He taught his two sons, now 20 and 30, to fish, but discouraged them from pursuing it as a career.
“We’ve come to the end of something that was once really good,” Philp said. “If we can’t turn this around, why would anyone want their kids to do this?”
Philip is not alone in his struggle to maintain traditional fishing practices. Scallop diver Alasdair Hughson spends four days a week at sea and travels far from his home in Dingwall because nearby coastal areas are too degraded to support his work.
“If there was no need to increase the size of ships, move around and become more nomadic, we would stay that way, because why wouldn’t you?” he said.
When it started to dive, stocks were low. “Scallop dredging was not being replenished because it had changed the habitat so much.”
A 2023 analysis by the Marine Conservation Society found that banning bottom trawling in offshore protected areas in the UK could deliver net benefits of up to 3.5 billion pounds ($4.7 billion) over 20 years, accounting for increased carbon storage, pollution removal, nutrient cycling and recreation opportunities.
Marine biologist Caitlin Turner said habitat destruction creates cascading effects throughout the ecosystem.
“If you disrupt the habitat, there are fewer places for juvenile fish to live and spawn,” he said. “This affects the abundance of animals in the area. It trickles down; you’ll have fewer of the larger animals that feed on game.”
Turner said the damage could affect Scotland’s tourism industry. Visitors to destinations such as the Isle of Skye often find fish and chips on imported menus. According to the World Wildlife Fund, more than 80% of seafood eaten in the UK in 2019 was caught or farmed outside UK waters.
“There is huge demand from tourists and it is difficult to meet those demands,” said Miles Craven, executive chef of Wickman Hotels on the Isle of Skye. “I’ve noticed over the last eight years that it’s getting harder and harder.”
The Scottish government had stated that consultations on fisheries management measures for coastal protected areas would begin in late 2025, but in December officials announced that the consultation would be postponed for at least six months.
Scientists and community groups are already working in the field of designing restoration approaches, including efforts to restore seagrass and oyster populations. But conservationists say this won’t be enough without reintroducing a coastal boundary that protects at least 30% of Scotland’s coastal seas; This is part of the international target to protect 30% of land and sea by 2030.
A Scottish Government spokesman said 13 per cent of coastal protected areas are currently closed to certain types of bottom trawling and scallop dredging, and further measures are expected in coming years to allow Scotland to exceed 30 per cent protection against the 2030 target. Officials cited upcoming parliamentary elections and late delivery by external contractors as reasons for the consultation delay.
“The more I realize about the nuances of fisheries management and the marine ecosystems we work in, the more despair I get because I know we can do this right,” Philp said.
For Philip and other small-scale fishers, the timeline means waiting many more years for Marine Protected Areas, which were designated a decade ago and remain unenforced.
“I know we can fix this,” he said. “I despair at the fact that we are so slow to fix this.”
