Illegal blast fishing—the practice of fishing by detonating explosives in the water—is spreading on Central America’s Pacific coast.

The trend is painfully apparent in Nicaragua. Authorities here are trying to educate fishermen about the long-term effects of the environmentally destructive method, in which fishermen drop homemade bombs into the sea to kill entire schools of fish.

But officials report they haven’t made much headway, with fishermen insisting traditional practices don’t yield satisfactory catches. Economic necessity trumps concern about conservation among fishermen in Nicaragua, the Western Hemisphere’s second poorest country. Says 22-year-old fisherman Aaron Medina: “There’s no other way to bring money home.”

In Corinto, home to Nicaragua’s largest port, the blast-fishing industry has taken strong root amidst rampant poverty, a growing supply of homemade bombs and lax enforcement.

“They’re doing a lot of harm,” says Reinaldo Bermuti, an official with Nicaragua’s state-run Institute of Fishing who has been touring Pacific coast fishing towns to teach local fishermen about the pitfalls of the practice.

Explosives are ubiquitous

Locals say virtually all fishermen use bombs. And the bomb makers, working secretly in their homes, are making ever-bigger explosives. Police recently seized 10-pound bombs—exponentially more destructive and risky than the commonly used sardine-can-sized explosives. Overall, bombs have become so ubiquitous here that they cost as little as US$1 each.

Last year, local police seized more than 1,000 of the explosives. They warn not only that use of them has become a threat to the Pacific coast ecology and the fishing industry’s future, but that the explosives could end up in the hands of hardened criminals.

Most fishermen only use bombs on overnight trips. Once at sea, they lower a light into the water to attract schools of fish—usually sardines. When the fish approach, the fishermen light a water-resistant wick and toss the bomb in the water, typically with a rock attached so it sinks. The explosion of a small, sardine-can-sized bomb kills everything within a 10-foot radius. The fishermen then jump in the water with snorkels and masks to net the dead fish floating around the boat.

The more powerful explosions are causing wider destruction. Fishermen employing 10- and 15-pound bombs use scuba gear to reach fish killed in the larger blast areas.

A decade ago, when blast fishing appeared in the region, a team of four fishermen using explosives could bring in 500 kilos of fish on an overnight trip, sharing about US$2,000. As the practice has spread and fish populations have diminished, blast-fishermen nowadays bring home 100 kilos per trip, Medina says.

On their midnight voyages, fishermen often become sleep-deprived, inhibiting motor skills and increasing risks. Others add alcohol to the equation. Nicaraguan Navy Capt. Francisco Gutiérrez says explosions have caused two reported deaths, while nine fishermen have lost limbs and two have been blinded.

Last year, naval patrols stopped five vessels engaged in blast fishing. They also seized a total of 400 bombs. Capt. Gutiérrez, however, admits that the seized explosives represent just a fraction of the hundreds of thousands of bombs that were likely used during the year.

Hard to police

Under Nicaraguan law, blast fishing is punishable by up to four years in prison—sometimes more, if illegal-weapons charges are tacked on. But bringing successful cases is tough when evidence is so easily destroyed at sea, says Gutiérrez. Fishermen routinely sink bombs when they see naval patrols on the horizon. Fishermen also claim there is widespread corruption among local police.

Theories vary on how blast fishing got started in Nicaragua. Some say former guerrillas who learned how to make bombs during the Central American wars of the 1980s provided the explosives, while others claim the bombs were first made in the colonial city of León, where there are several fireworks manufacturers, then brought to the Pacific coast.

Some local fishermen say the government’s educational campaign has helped make them and their peers aware of the environmental—and long-term economic—toll that blast fishing takes on marine resources.

But the practice offers fast money in a country with few economic alternatives. Such income is expected to become more attractive as the global economic slump depresses the remittances that Nicaraguans working abroad send from the United States and other countries. Remittances account for a third of Nicaragua’s Gross Domestic Product. Says Medina, the fisherman: “We’re killing the fauna. But there’s no work in this country.”

Bermuti, who has been working with officials in El Salvador and Honduras to coordinate a regional approach to blast fishing, hopes his campaign will prevail before it’s too late. “It’s spreading,” he says of blast fishing. “In a couple years, it will be along the entire coast if things continue like this.”