Source: Los Angeles Weekly Section: Features Pubdate: 9 October 1997 Contact: Trolling for Coke: Narcopolitics and the Tuna Mexican tuna is certified dolphinsafe, and Cali couldn't be happier by John Ross EL SAUZAL, BAJA CALIFORNIA The oxidizing hull of the General Zapata, one of the last great tuna boats homeported in this oncethriving cannery enclave just north of Ensenada, creaks uneasily at anchor under the blazing Baja sun. Dockside, a desultory seaman coils hawsers while others mend miles of nets. These are signs that the General Zapata will be going back to work soon. With a stroke of his pen on August 15, Bill Clinton terminated the sevenyearlong boycott on the importation of Mexican tuna, imposed by Congress in 1990 to halt the slaughter of dolphins in Pacific waters off Latin America. By mid1998, tens of thousands of tons of Mexican tuna may well be flowing north again, exults Mexican National Fishing Industry spokesperson Alfonso Rosinol. Ending the tuna embargo represents a benchmark diplomatic achievement for a number of important constituencies in the U.S. and beyond. For Senator Barbara Boxer (DCalifornia), the key legislative architect of the tuna boycott, the deal marks her skill in forging compromises; environmentalists can hail stipulations that Mexico and other Latin countries introduce new dolphin protections; and freemarket zealots can celebrate another trade barrier crumbled. There's another constituency toasting Clinton's signature on the tuna deal, but they're keeping their good cheer to themselves. If past performance is any indication, the surge of imported tuna will be attended by a commensurate rise in the volume of "atun blanco" ("white tuna"), a the sobriquet applied to Colombian cocaine that has found the tunafishing industry a helpful host in getting its goods into U.S. markets. By all appearances, the Clinton administration is well aware of the drugtrafficking implications inherent to a revitalized Latin tuna trade. But with the president and Wall Street committed to free trade, even the nation's top drug authorities are willing to overlook a rising tide of atun blanco. For unknown reasons, tuna schools swim under schools of dolphins in what fishery officials designate the Eastern Tropical Pacific (ETP). Class 6 "purse seiners" and "longliners" such as the General Zapata utilize the porpoises to locate catches and encircle them with enormous nets the cause of the wholesale dolphin slaughter that first led Congress to impose the boycott as an attachment to the Marine Mammal Protection Act. In the years since the ban went into effect, dolphin mortality in the ETP has declined by 97 percent, to less than 4,000 in 1996. But while the dolphins thrived, the Mexican tuna industry once the giant in the Latin American tuna derby, hauling in 38 percent of the catch with a fleet that totaled 85 boats, 39 of them Class 6'ers took a near mortal dive. In the early 1980s, many of the tuna boats then tied up in Ensenada were "redflagged" from San Diego to avoid U.S. environmental restrictions; American owners would sell their vessels to Mexican outfits, including that of Captain Manuel Rodriguez (see below), across the peninsula in La Paz. Then the boycott took the big profits out of tuna. During seven years of embargo, the fishing industry counted 6,000 onboard jobs and at least 20,000 cannery slots lost. Exports plummeted from 83,000 tons in preprohibition days to 15,000 in 1994, with a consequent $350 million loss, according to Mexican fisheries undersecretary Carlos Camacho Gaos. The boycott raised nationalist hackles; charges of protectionism and "Yanqui imperialism" flew. Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo called the embargo "unjust and inconsistent." For El Sauzal and Ensenada, the boycott proved devastating. Most of the fleet moved south to Mazatlan, refocused on national markets and was hit by a severe economic recession that dropped the domestic demand for tuna by 20 percent. Three of the seven canneries operating in El Sauzal shuttered their doors. Boats like the General Zapata tied up and never went back to work, or else converted to anchovy fishing. As the boycott dragged on through the '90s, Clinton's Commerce Department and freetrade Republicans in Congress pressed for some resolution. In 1995, 12 of the largest fishing nations in the Americas signed the Declaration of Panama, which committed them to new practices designed to limit combined annual dolphin kills to less than 5,000. Many environmentalists objected that there were too many loopholes in the treaty, but in May 1997 the House of Representatives passed a measure to grant the Latin signatories "dolphinsafe" status. In the Senate, however, Boxer held out for close study of the new methods (primarily involving setting out small boats to free dolphins from the seines) before new labels could be affixed. Her bill, having won the support of several major environmental groups, passed unanimously. If the Great Tuna Boycott was bad for business, fishing for atun blanco has emerged as a viable economic alternative for Latin American fishing fleets in the 1990s. According to U.S. Coast Guard estimates, 180 to 200 tons of cocaine 70 percent of the 300 tons consumed each year in the U.S. is shipped north through the ETP aboard vessels putting in largely at Mexican Pacific Coast ports. Not just a few of these vessels are tuna boats. A Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) intelligenceservice bulletin, issued last April, described "maritime shipments" as "the biggest threat in terms of volume" and cited an unidentified Mexican cartel as having imported 10 tons in 1994 in four major shipments through Pacific ports. To prove the point, a metric ton was taken off a vessel chartered by TMM, Mexico's largest ocean shipper, in early August. With 8,000 kilometers of coastline and 76 working ports to cover, the Mexican navy has not had much success stemming the tide in the last year, only seven tons of Colombian alkaloid were taken in maritime seizures, much of it aboard the Viva Sinaloa, a Mazatlanported fishing boat, in January 1997. The U.S. Coast Guard, which is empowered by Congress to make stops on the high seas if the drugs presumed aboard are suspected of being destined for the U.S., has done a bit better. Twelve tons taken in July 1995 aboard the Class 6 purse seiner Nataly 1, reportedly cached in boxes labeled "tuna" (U.S. drug czar Barry McCaffrey denies this detail), set a new record for seizures. In October 1996, the Coast Guard scored an additional two tons off a rusty tuna longliner, the Don Celso, in waters off Ecuador; the Don Celso had put in at the West Coast Mexican port of Manzanillo three times in 1996. Two and a half metric tons were taken off a third tuna boat, the Oyster, in Honduran waters, concedes McCaffrey, who, notwithstanding the use of the tuna fleets to move drugs north, lobbied for an end to the boycott. The Nataly 1's trajectory is instructive. According to San Diego trial testimony, cocainehauling Class 6 clippers, cavernous ships with carrying capacities of up to 1,200 tons and cruising ranges of 5,000 ocean miles, load the drugs at ports such as Buenaventura, Colombia, and Guayaquil, Ecuador, head for fishing grounds near the Galapagos Islands to throw off authorities, then steam north to Clipperton Island, a onetime pirate sanctuary approximately 700 miles southwest of Baja California, where the drugs are offloaded onto smaller craft and taken to Baja ports such as Ensenada and La Paz. Lawenforcement officials speculate that the Tijuana cartel, under the direction of the mayhemminded Arellano Felix brothers, take possession of the cocaine for distribution north of the border. Ownership of the Nataly 1 traces as intriguing a trajectory as its ocean voyages. The Nataly 1 was one of six tuna boats registered to Pesquera Azteca, a front corporation organized by Jose Castrillon Henao, "maritime director" of the Cali cartel's "cocaine navy." Castrillon, reportedly, had over 100 fishing vessels, tuna and otherwise, under his command registered to such entities as "Tuna Pesca Pacifica" and "Pacific Squid," Panamabased Castrillon, known as "The Admiral," was imprisoned during the regime of Manuel Noriega when one of his tuna boats, the Juiliana, was pulled in for transporting drugs, netted off Contadora Island in the company of alleged associates of Colombian drug kingpin Pablo Escobar, but was freed months later, after the U.S. invasion that carried off Noriega for alleged drug crimes. Castrillon's lawyer was subsequently appointed Panama's attorney general and freed his client. Castrillon resurfaced in the 1995 Panamanian election when President Ernesto Perez Baladeros tearfully confessed that he had cashed checks totaling $51,000 in campaign contributions from the Admiral. In April 1996, Castrillon was rearrested by a combined U.S.Panamanian strike force as coordinated captures were made in Mexico and France. Curiously, the U.S., so eager to have Noriega in its hands, has made no move to institute extradition proceedings against Castrillon. The Admiral's arrest closed down the Mexican tunacocaine connection, at least temporarily, when drug agents snapped up Captain Manuel Rodriguez at his palatial La Paz estate. With half a dozen Class 6 purse seiners on the high seas, Captain Manuel, a.k.a. "El Compadre," was known in environmental circles as a "dolphinsafe" fisher i.e., he did not use nets to encircle the dolphins. Rodriguez was only briefly jailed, although his partnership with Castrillon had been amply documented. Sixteen months after his detention, Captain Rodriguez remains under house arrest in La Paz, where he is charged with laundering millions in Castrillon cocainenavy moneys. Rodriguez had access to luxury yachts and helicopters, and maintained a halfmilliondollar home in San Diego. Three of his confiscated cruisers, one of them bearing the name El Sauzal, are tied up under government guard in Ensenada slated to be sold and, with the end of the U.S. boycott, expected to be fishing again soon for tuna of all stripes. The CastrillonRodriguez connection to Mexico's largest tuna packer, Mazatlanbased PINSA Industries, is unclear. The Mexican fishing sector was privatized during the presidency of Carlos Salinas, whose nowimprisoned brother, Raul, is said to have charged large commissions for the sale of governmentowned enterprises and who is suspected of having laundered millions in drug profits through European banks. Several commentators link Raul Salinas to PINSA, a tie vehemently denied by company officials. Synchronistically, PINSA is the parent company of Pesquera Azteca, apparently a distinct entity from Castrillon's Panamanian operation. The Mexican Pesquera Azteca runs 10 Class 6 purse seiners, all named the Aztec, out of Mazatlan, Sinaloa, the home state of most Mexican drug cartels. The propensity of Latin tuna fleets to move Colombian cocaine is appreciated by drug authorities. Sicilian Mafia investors bought up Venezuelan canneries in the 1970s to cover cocainesmuggling routes to Europe and according to tunaboycott gadfly Craig Van Nolte, Washington, D.C., representative for the boycottinitiating Earth Island Institute the Russian Mafia is involved in Vanuatuflagged tuna boats homeported in Colombia. (Both Venezuela and the far Pacific island of Vanuatu were on the U.S. boycott list because of high dolphin kills.) Reported to be second only to Castrillon in Panama's whitetuna trade is Colombian Alvaro Butraco, who, tuna fishery observers report, operates three Class 6 ships and sells to a "dolphinsafe" canner in Buenaventura, in the heart of Colombia's cocaine zone. Despite the increasingly public connections between Latin tuna fishers and Colombian cocaine cartels, U.S. drug czar McCaffrey wholeheartedly backed Clinton administration efforts to end the boycott. In a letter to Senator John Breaux (DLouisiana), who cosponsored the whitetuna bill in the Senate, General McCaffrey insisted that international observers placed aboard tuna boats by the 1995 Panama Convention were adequate safeguards against cocaine smuggling by the huge tuna clippers. However, in letters to the Earth Island Institute, the observers themselves affirm they are only onboard tuna ships when they are fishing, and are removed during loading, unloading and transport operations, the most opportune moments in which to stash contraband cocaine. McCaffrey's defense of the Latin tuna fleets seems out of sync with both his drugwar responsibilities and his curriculum vitae. As commander of the U.S. Southern Command from 1993 through 1995, his offices were just up the hill from where the Castrillon drug fleet rode at anchor one Castrillon drug deal was struck only blocks from the U.S. Embassy, recalls Gustavo Gorriti, former editor of Panama City's La Prensa. Gorriti, a Peruvian who broke the Castrillon story, was stripped of his Panamanian work permit just days before the whitetuna bill carried the U.S. Senate. In an electronic message to this reporter in July, Gorriti expressed the belief that the Colombian cartels would be delighted by the relaxation of the U.S. tuna boycott. Clinton administration myopia on the Latin whitetuna trade appears to obey a higher power: free trade. The tuna boycott has stirred Mexico to appeal to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, where it has won several condemnations of the U.S. tuna policy as inhibiting free trade, and Zedillo's secretary of natural resources, Julia Carrabias, recently threatened that if the boycott was not lifted, Mexico would take the embargo issue to the World Trade Organization, where the U.S. has been buffeted by unfavorable decisions. During Bill Clinton's visit to Mexico City in May, he reportedly pledged an end to the boycott in private conversations with Zedillo. Determined to keep the freetrade engine chugging during his second term, Clinton has set his sights upon achieving a Western Hemisphere freetrade pact before he leaves office. Nonetheless, opening up the gates to ColombianMexican white tuna points a phosphorescent finger at the dark side of freetrade treaties like NAFTA and the cartels' enthusiastic support for such pacts, which greatly facilitate efforts to funnel their products into the U.S. with 13 million habitual users, the largest drugbuying club in the known universe. Item: A 1993 U.S. Mexico City Embassy document, declassified by the independent National Security Archive, disclosed that the Colombian cartels and their Mexican associates were seeking to set up factories and build truck fleets in the Ciudad Juarez area, across the river from El Paso, Texas. Item: A San Diego DEA spokesperson recently revealed that the Arellano Felix syndicate is being counseled by legitimate business advisers on how best to take advantage of NAFTA. The revelation represents a significant departure from DEA strategies: Former agent Phil Jordan, with years of experience along the Texas border, confessed on ABC's Nightline that, in the months leading up to the 1993 NAFTA ratification, agents were prohibited from publicly discussing the treaty's impact on drug smuggling. "This has been a painfully obvious problem from the beginning," adds Gary Huffbauer, a fellow at the Institute for International Economics and one of NAFTA's earliest supporters. Item: The prospect of opening up the U.S. door to Latin tuna has Ensenada businessman Alfonso Rosinol, the national fishing industry's spokesman, talking about reopening shuttered canneries and even setting up a processing plant in the Otay Mesa maquiladora zone to take full advantage of NAFTA access. Meanwhile, 700,000 trucks come annually through the Otay border station, a key smuggling pipeline, and the DEA has confirmed the existence of "narco tunnels" burrowed between the zone and unincorporated parts of San Diego County. So brace yourselves, amigos. With the infrastructure back in place, it is just a matter of months before the atun blanco washes up on U.S. shores. Copyright (c) 1997, Los Angeles Weekly, Inc. All rights reserved.