In March 1998 the 43,000-ton Oak Wave slid down a dry dock in Japan. Over the next 25 years, the $30m bulk carrier — designed to haul grain and other commodities — called at ports across Asia and the Arabian Peninsula, ran through five owners and three names, and changed its flag twice. Then, last November, just after being sold for $5.
9m, the Catherine Bright (as it was re-christened in 2018) set sail from Qatar for a destination it had never before visited: Gadani, Pakistan. The town of about 10,000 is more ship graveyard than port, just a cluttered 10km stretch of oil-sodden beach. It’s one of three South Asian shipbreaking yards, where dozens of small companies dismantle almost three-quarters of the vessels — hundreds of container ships, oil tankers, vehicle carriers, tugs, cruise liners, and even oil and gas platforms — that are broken apart globally each year.
All three yards feature relatively deep water right up to the beach, allowing operators to run enormous ships aground — no dock required. Ships contain lead, mercury, heavy oil, carcinogens such as cadmium and asbestos, and sometimes radioactive material. As workers brandishing gas torches shear off giant plates of steel, the vessels often leak oil and other toxins into the sea.
Heavy metals spill on to the sand — their concentration at Alang is 20 times the Indian average. Tides and currents carry these poisons into delicate wildlife habitats and pollute local fisheries. A 2018 report by the United .