Following up on recent reports of oil in the water off the north coast of Karawang Regency, West Java, Indonesia, SkyTruth has picked up a slick in Sentinel-1 radar imagery. In the image from July 18th, an unidentified platform (circled in red) located roughly 12 km north of the Karawang shore is shown emitting a 34.7 km-long slick into the Java Sea. A story written by the local Jakarta Post on July 18th describes state-owned energy firm Pertamina’s decision to evacuate personnel and halt operations at an offshore production rig in their Offshore Northwest Java (ONWJ) block. The evacuation was ordered after a dangerous “well kick”, or unplanned release of gas caused by low pressure in a wellbore, initiated a large slick on the 16th of July. A separate report released by the Jakarta Post five days later indicated that the Indonesian Transportation Ministry teamed up with Pertamina in response to the oil-related event, along with several other smaller entities in the area. The response vessels were able to set up a boom around the perimeter of the offshore platform. Unfortunately, this didn’t stop oil from reaching villages and beaches on West Java’s coast. Given the fact that several vessels surround the unidentified object in the Sentinel-1 image, we believe that this could be the affected drilling platform. Pertamina’s upstream director Dharmawan Samsu estimated that it will take approximately eight weeks for the oil and gas leakage to be plugged.
Possible Bilge Dumping by Indonesian Cement Carrier in the Strait of Malacca
By Lucy Meyer
On February 15, 2019, a vessel that appeared to be releasing oily waste was captured by satellite almost 10 kilometers offshore Peureulak, a small town in Aceh Province, on the northern tip of the Indonesian island of Sumatra. Radar imagery from the European Space Agency’s Sentinel-1 satellite shows an 18-kilometer slick trailing a northbound ship, visible as a bright spot at the end of the dark slick.
The ship is traveling through the Strait of Malacca, a narrow strip of water between Sumatra and the Malay Peninsula. The Strait is one of the world’s busiest shipping lanes as it is both the shortest and most convenient path between the Indian and Pacific Oceans. Due to the Strait’s high density of marine traffic of all types, oil spills — accidental and intentional — are likely to occur. Figure 1 illustrates suspected bilge dumping, a typically intentional discharge of oily waste from ships to reduce ballast water or free up space in the cargo holds. Typically, bilge-dumps form distinctive linear slicks visible on satellite imagery.
While radar satellite images are very useful tools for detecting slicks, they are typically not detailed enough to allow identification of the responsible vessel. However, many vessels broadcast their identity and other information using the radio-frequency Automatic Identification System (AIS). AIS use is required for all large cargo vessels and tankers. By studying the AIS broadcasts in this area using exactEarth’s ShipView service, which collects the signals using satellites and ground-based receivers, SkyTruth analyst Bjorn Bergman determined the Indonesian cement carrier PERKASA (Figure 2) was at this location when the Sentinel-1 radar image was acquired. Formerly known as KOEI MARU NO 7, the vessel was built in 1981 by Ube Industries, Ltd., a Japanese chemical manufacturing company. Today, the ship is operated by PT Indobaruna Bulk Transport (IBT), an Indonesian shipping company based in Jakarta.
Figure 3 shows the PERKASA’s AIS-derived track overlain on the Sentinel-1 image, revealing a very close match between the vessel’s path and the suspected bilge slick. The AIS signal immediately to the south of the vessel location on the image indicates it was traveling 11 knots (~20.4 km/h) at 11:17 UTC; the signal immediately following at 12:10 UTC indicate the vessel was traveling 10.8 knots (~20.0 km/h). Using the location data encoded with these AIS signals, we calculated the likely position of PERKASA at the instant the image was acquired (11:43 UTC). The ship’s predicted location closely matches the vessel’s position in the Sentinel-1 image, and no other vessels broadcasting AIS were likely candidates for a match. This leads us to infer that PERKASA is the vessel seen apparently discharging oily bilge waste in the satellite image.
To the south, a chain of less-distinctive slicks along the coast are roughly aligned with PERKASA’s track (Figure 4). These slicks are broad and striated as opposed to the slender 18-kilometer long slick, which could be a result of wind and current blowing apart what had originally been a series of discharges from the vessel. The AIS transmissions from PERKASA are infrequent in this region (Figure 5), making us somewhat less confident that this vessel was also the source of these patchy slicks.
The operator of PERKASA, IBT, claims “we put high priority in safety by adhering to policies, practices, and procedures in our Safety Management System to ensure the safety of crews, staffs, cargoes, vessels, as well as environment.” In addition nearly all of IBT’s fleet is registered with classification societies. According to The International Association of Classification Societies (IACS), the purpose of a classification society is “to provide classification and statutory services and assistance to the maritime industry and regulatory bodies as regards maritime safety and pollution prevention.” IACS is a non-governmental organization composed of twelve classification societies. PERKASA is registered with Biro Klasifikasi Indonesia (BKI) and Nippon Kaiji Kyokai (ClassNK), which is a member of IACS.
One of the certification services provided by ClassNK is the Verification for Clean Shipping Index (CSI). The objective of CSI is to verify the environmental performance of a vessel’s operations in five areas, including water and wastes. Ballast water, sewage/black water, garbage, sludge oils, and bilge water are covered under this category.
Bilge dumping — intentional or otherwise — would seem to violate the principles touted by the vessel operator, and call into question the effectiveness of the classification societies.
Near the northern tip of Indonesia’s Bangka Belitung Islands (located directly below the yellow box within the inset map of image 1), I spotted a slick that resembles clock hands pointing to the hours 4 and 11. Captured by radar satellite, Sentinel-1, on the evening of January 8, 2019 (22:40 GMT), the slick stretches at least 117 kilometers. Due to the slick’s narrowness and distinct sharp turn in track, it is likely a bilge dump. To the right, the slick trails beyond the edge of available imagery. Though we cannot see the responsible vessel on this image, the sharp linear impression of the slick indicates that it probably passed through the area within 24 hours of the scene’s capture.
SkyTruth analyst Bjorn Bergman verified this presumption. To look for similarities in timing and trajectory, Bergman used ExactEarth’s ShipView, a web-based platform that provides access to automatic identification system broadcasts (a global vessel tracking system commonly abbreviated to ‘AIS’), and identified the Indonesian crude oil tanker GAMSUNORO as a possible source.
Image 3 juxtaposes the slick and GAMSUNORO’s AIS signal. Traversing southeast, the ship’s first signal was recorded at 12:59 GMT. Close to 14:00 GMT, the vessel encountered the area with the slick. From this information, we know the tanker’s predicted track occurred approximately 8 ½ hours before the scene was captured. In addition, the vessel’s path imitates the shape of the slick. However, the ship’s track is slightly displaced to the northeast. It is possible that the slick may have drifted due to steady winds blowing from the NE (~6-13 knots) at least seven hours prior to the image’s capture. There appears to be a strong correlation in the temporal and spatial attributes of slick and ship, indicating that the GAMSUNORO is a likely source. To corroborate our findings, we followed the ship as it sailed southbound.
Initially, we anticipated the ship would journey to Jakarta; however, image 2 displays the vessel’s latest position (January 14, 2019 at 10:55 GMT) anchored about 6 miles offshore near the town of Indramayu. With an updated version of the vessel’s track, we may be able to find evidence of a continued slick either on their way south or at their current anchorage. Whether or not we are able to positively ID the perpetrator, this is one of many examples displaying the temporal challenges of using satellite imagery to capture not just illegal activity but any short-lived phenomena.
Continued from Part 1: Voyage to the Galapagos.
As the Brigitte Bardot steamed west from the Galapagos we considered the sheer number of people we could expect to encounter when we reached this densely clustered fishing fleet 700 miles out to sea. The scale of fishing on the high seas has always been largely invisible to the seafood consuming public but our satellite tracking sources indicated an operation of truly remarkable size. From Automatic Identification System (AIS) data and radar we knew we were approaching a fleet of around 300 ships. These would be not only fishing vessels but a whole network of support vessels for refueling and transshipping catch from the fleet, as well as providing for an estimated 6,000 crewmen who would be at sea for several months at a time.
On the high seas in areas beyond national jurisdiction regulations are few and what oversight of fishing operations exists depends on Regional Fisheries Management Organizations (RFMOs). These RFMOs are established by international treaties to monitor and regulate fishing of particular species, although only some countries are signatories and there is a limited capacity for monitoring vast areas of open ocean. The region of the Eastern Pacific to which we were headed falls at the northern end of the area regulated by the South Pacific Regional Fisheries Management Organization (SPRFMO). The SPRFMO regulates fishing of non-tuna species and publishes a list of vessels authorized to fish in the area. However, beyond requiring countries to register their vessels and collecting the catch data they submit, no limits are set on squid catches.
We had our last sight of San Lorenzo Island the evening of September 19th and as we headed west into the open Pacific we expected a return of the rough weather we had seen on the voyage out. But by the next morning the seas were strangely still with fog obscuring our view much distance from the vessel. I sat below in the galley rechecking the latest set of AIS transmissions from the fleet against the SPRFMO’s authorization list. How a vessel is identified in the AIS system depends entirely on the information the vessel’s captain decides to input into his transmitter. Some operators conscientiously broadcast their full vessel name, callsign, International Maritime Organization (IMO) number, and flag. Others broadcast incomplete or outdated information via AIS and more than a few vessels give no identification at all or broadcast names that appear scrambled or don’t identify the vessel (“._NGDAYANG29” and “PS1” for instance). As a result, I had the challenge of trying to decipher as many of these vessel identifications as possible to determine if they were authorized to fish in the area.
In the afternoon I went up to the wheelhouse to stand watch. We continued through the fog, the Brigitte Bardot barely rocking on the calm seas. Jack, the Brigitte Bardot’s drone pilot taking a break from an action-packed stint on Sea Shepherd’s Milagro campaign in Mexico, explained the ship’s radar to me. We were limited in range by the relatively low height of the mast but our radar system had some useful options for locking and tracking targets and with a few adjustments we could even see the edge of an advancing rain front. But when Chris, the Brigitte Bardot‘s captain, joined us a few hours later there were still no blips on the radar screen. For the moment we appeared to have this vast stretch of the Pacific entirely to ourselves.
Despite the lack of vessels in the vicinity we expected to soon be reaching the edge of a huge fishing fleet and we needed to settle on a strategy. If there was illegal activity we would need to collect evidence before news of our arrival spread by radio through the fleet. I shared a list of potential targets with Chris and Jack. Unsatisfyingly all were ambiguous cases, vessels that didn’t give enough information in their AIS broadcasts for us to determine if they were SPRFMO authorized. We’d initially thought we’d have some clearly identified vessels that weren’t authorized to fish and had planned to arrive after nightfall (when squid fishing occurs) and collect evidence with a night vision camera. However with only ambiguous unidentified vessels as targets it made sense to arrive at the fleet during daylight hours when it would still be possible to easily read names and numbers painted on the vessel hull.
Chris called up the ship’s engineer Stefan. We could speed up to arrive at the fleet with a few hours of daylight but as Stefan explained this would be a trade-off with the extra fuel we burned ultimately limiting the ship’s range for this operation. After a brief discussion Stefan turned up the RPM on the Brigitte Bardot’s twin engines.
The calm weather continued through the next day as we sped west. Eloy, a Peruvian researcher who was finishing his thesis on tracking this fleet, sat out on deck reading through journal articles. If we had had any doubt that we were in squid fishing grounds this would have been dispelled by the dozens of squid which somehow made it onto the deck every night, when as Eloy explained, they rose to the surface to feed and possibly were attracted to the lights on the Brigitte Bardot. In fact this attraction to light is a critical part of squid fishing operations with the industrial fleet deploying lights on a massive scale to lure the squid in.
With the Brigitte Bardot’s crew gathered in the wheelhouse later in the afternoon there was a building sense of anticipation. The first vessel had appeared on the radar to the west an hour before and was quickly joined by half a dozen others. I checked these against satellite AIS, doing my best to guide the Brigitte Bardot towards a squid vessel broadcasting only the callsign BZZ5K, a callsign not registered to any vessel authorized to take squid. As we approached this first target Jack and Stefan passed back and forth a ridiculously large pair of pair of binoculars. Then on the port side the first vessel came into view.
Rust and soot on the hull seemed to obscure any identifying markings. Squid jigging gear projected out from either side below strings of giant bare bulbs hanging like oversized Christmas tree lights. A Chinese flag flew above the wheelhouse and at the stern of the vessel what appeared to be a tattered black sail. But on board all was quiet with a sea anchor keeping the vessel in place as the crew apparently waited below for the onset of nighttime fishing operations. This vessel was broadcasting AIS and we could faintly make out its name, which was on the SPRFMO authorization list, so we continued past it toward our target.
Reaching this first target, broadcasting callsign BZZ5K, was immediately anticlimactic. We could see a name and different callsign clearly painted on the hull, Hua Ying 819 with callsign BZV9K, an authorized vessel. The reason for the incorrect callsign on AIS was unclear but entirely legal since there are no regulations mandating correct identification on AIS. This is a frustrating situation for advocates of fisheries transparency since AIS is usually the only source of information the public has for tracking fleets out at sea. A simple requirement from flag states and authorities like the SPRFMO that vessels broadcasting AIS identify themselves correctly and broadcast continuously while operating, would dramatically improve the public’s ability to reliably monitor fleets on the high seas which are extracting a common global resource.
We sped on hoping to check a few more target vessels before dark. The fleet was now all around us, dozens of mostly still vessels extending out to the edge of radar reception. We’d expected that the arrival of the Brigitte Bardot would set off a flurry of chatter on the radio but the fleet was strangely silent as we set the radio to scan for broadcasts. We passed close to some vessels comparing their broadcast ID to identification painted on the hull and checking their authorization on the SPRFMO list. Once we noticed a few flashes of light through our wheelhouse’s starboard windows. Had someone tried to signal us with a mirror? Glancing back all seemed still on the boat we had passed.
We had soon spent the few hours of daylight we had gained by speeding westward. Though we’d managed to check off a number of the vessels with ambiguous AIS IDs on my target list we were finding that they all checked out once we were able to get identification from the vessel’s hull. As the sun sank below the horizon we halted to reassess the situation. So far just tracking down boats with bad AIS identification was not turning up any illegal activity. How about identifying vessels with no AIS broadcast at all? Consulting with Chris we decided to make a loose grid through the fleet checking the AIS broadcast of each boat as we approached.
The Brigitte Bardot now proceeded slowly to conserve fuel as we prepared to survey through the night. Suddenly out of the darkness a towering intense white light showed on the horizon. Soon it was followed by others all around us, mostly white but some an iridescent green and others with dimmer yellow light. Looking out from the wheelhouse we seemed no longer to be on the open ocean but in the edge of some great coastal metropolis.
The ships had now come alive. Squinting against the blinding lights we could see crewmen lined up behind the protruding jigging gear on either side of the vessel. Checking the AIS broadcasts of each vessel we were frustrated by what seemed to be severely limited reception range. Often we had to approach within a mile or two of a vessel before they appeared on our navigation plotter when it ought to have been possible to pick up vessels even 10 or 20 miles out. Around midnight when we judged the fishing operation to be well underway we roused Jack from below. It was time to take a closer look at what was actually happening on board these vessels.
Jack launched the drone, a phantom 4 quadcopter, from the bow of the Brigitte Bardot then stared intently at his control screen as he steered the drone in towards the fishing vessel. Navigating at night guided by only the vessel’s powerful fishing lights Jack brought the drone close over the deck avoiding the mast and cables strung high above the swaying vessel. Crewmen manned baited lines extending out from the ship in all directions. A few stopped and waved at the drone as it passed overhead. At one point the foreman on deck made an exasperated shooing motion with both hands. This fleet was on record for catching exclusively squid. Could something else be going on board? Large quantities of shark reached the coast of South America, mostly from longliners, with fins then shipped back to markets in China. Were sharks also caught on these vessels? Carefully examining the footage Jack would later notice a dozen fins protruding from the water around where the squid lines reached the ocean surface. But were these sharks being caught — or just hanging out where they might get some bait? The mechanics of landing a shark with the gear being used seemed difficult and on the vessels we could observe no sharks were seen on deck or on the fishing lines.
Drone footage of a nighttime fishing operation by a Chinese squid jigger. Video by Jack Hutton/ Sea Shepherd
With the drone back on board we continued a slow survey through the fleet. Checking about 50 ships just one vessel we approached appeared not to be broadcasting AIS and all we identified had a valid authorization to fish. Eloy noted a clear distinction between vessels with strings of blinding LED lights (the total luminosity of these vessels is said to rival European soccer stadiums) and boats with somewhat dimmer yellow incandescent bulbs. We identified a number of vessels in these two categories so we could check later if this distinction also appeared in our data from NASA’s Visible Infrared Imaging Radiometer Suite (VIIRS). Hearing from Eloy that the satellite with the VIIRS instrument (NASA’s Soumi NPP) would be passing overhead at about 1:30 am, we also noted the positions of nearby vessels from the ship’s radar at precisely that time to compare with the vessel locations NOAA derived from the satellite’s imagery. I headed down for some sleep soon afterwards leaving the bridge in the hands of Simon, a professional photographer and veteran of Sea Shepherd’s Antarctic missions.
After getting a few inadequate hours of sleep I scrambled back up to the wheelhouse to look out at the fleet, now mostly quiet in the clear morning light. Jack and Chris were eager to show video captured the night before and as we looked at the latest satellite AIS data we could see one of the squid vessels alongside a reefer (refrigerated cargo ship). Was catch being transshipped just a few miles away? Today we would have a rare chance to document this activity and face a critical choice for continuing our investigation of fishing on the high seas.
To be be continued…
Recently a front-page article ran in The Washington Post, describing the ongoing, 14-year-long leak of crude oil from hurricane-damaged wells at the former location of an oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico, operated by a company called Taylor Energy. The article stated that — based on the latest scientific estimates of the leak rate — the Taylor spill was about to surpass BP’s disastrous 2010 blowout in the Gulf, becoming the world’s worst oil spill. News outlets around the world pounced on this headline, shining a global spotlight on this egregious chronic leak. Within weeks the US Coast Guard announced they had finally ordered Taylor Energy to fix the leak or face a daily $40,000 fine. The team at SkyTruth was thrilled when we heard the news: when Taylor finally fixes the leak, this will be a great result for the environment in the Gulf and will send a strong message to the offshore oil industry that we won’t let them walk away from their messes. And, this is the vindication of eight years of persistent, dogged work by SkyTruth and our partners.
How did we achieve this significant victory for the environment and the people of the Gulf Coast? We….
- Conducted sustained, public monitoring and data collection. We first “discovered” this already years-old leak while we were monitoring the massive BP oil spill in 2010. We noticed a much smaller, but persistent, slick nearby that appeared on our images day in and day out, even long after all traces of the BP spill had disappeared. Over the following years we analyzed and published dozens of satellite images of the Taylor slick, built a public archive by collecting and curating thousands of official oil-pollution reports, and wrote numerous blog posts to raise the alarm about what we were seeing and to credibly challenge the story being told by Taylor and the federal government.
- Built partnerships. We teamed up with Southwings and Waterkeeper Alliance to form the Gulf Monitoring Consortium. Gulf-area citizens groups, notably the Louisiana Environmental Action Network, Louisiana Bucket Brigade, and Gulf Restoration Network soon joined, giving us the ability to monitor, investigate, and systematically document the Taylor spill from space, from small aircraft, and on the water. Alerted by our work, researchers from Florida State University conducted their own independent sampling and measurements, bringing a higher level of scientific expertise to the growing public scrutiny of this continuous pollution event.
- Published credible, transparent, science-based analysis. For years, Taylor and the Coast Guard maintained that the leak was only a few gallons per day. Using very conservative assumptions, and Taylor’s own pollution reports, we calculated a much higher rate. And we worked with the researchers at Florida State University to independently assess the rate by measuring the size of the slick on satellite images, yielding an even higher estimate and revealing systematic and severe under-reporting of this spill. Ultimately, the satellite approach was accepted by the Department of Justice and suggested that the total amount of oil that has leaked into the Gulf from the Taylor spill was approaching the size of the catastrophic BP spill. Our data and analysis also helped prompt — and inform — a lawsuit by our partners at Waterkeeper Alliance against Taylor Energy and the Coast Guard. Their successful suit brought many documents to light that had previously been hidden from the public.
- Worked with journalists to help them understand the significance of this unchecked spill. Our methodical, transparent, and conservative analysis helped us build a reputation as being a trustworthy source of credible information. We developed long-running relationships with journalists, particularly Mike Kunzelman at The Associated Press. Reporters reached out for our comments and expert insights whenever new information or developments in the Taylor saga came to light. These relationships resulted in dozens of articles in major media markets over the years, helping to maintain public attention and interest, and a steady drumbeat of public criticism.
And finally, an hour-long interview with Washington Post reporter Darryl Fears resulted in an article that triggered Coast Guard action. Now, of course, we will continue to monitor the Taylor Energy leak to ensure that effective action is taken. And we’ll let the world know what we see.
This is what it takes, to make positive change happen for the environment. We’d like to thank the foundations and individuals who have donated to SkyTruth, making it possible for us to dedicate the time and resources to sustaining this watchdog effort over so many years. We couldn’t have done it without you.
Please help us keep it going. Donate to SkyTruth today!