Arrested by the Tide: Can the Sea Be Governed Without Forgetting Those Who Live by It?
- Joydeep Chakraborty
- 20 hours ago
- 6 min read
Maritime borders were drawn to manage resources, not to manage hunger.
Before the sun lifts itself over the Bay of Bengal, the water looks borderless and calm. Fishing boats sway in a silver hush. Nets drip, engines cough awake, and prayers pass quietly from father to son. In these hours, the ocean feels ancient, generous, and free as if an inheritance rather than a jurisdiction.
Yet every fishing boat carries two cargoes: hope and risk. Out here, there are no fences or warning signs. No buoys flashing red where one country ends and another begins. Still, beneath the hull runs an invisible incision of the International Maritime Boundary Line, which is capable of turning an ordinary day’s work into a diplomatic incident. A storm, a stalled engine, a drifting current, and a livelihood crosses a line drawn far away. The smallest actors often reveal the largest fault lines in international relations.
That truth surfaced again in late January 2026, when India and Bangladesh quietly completed a humanitarian exchange of fishermen along their shared maritime boundary. It was diplomacy without podiums or speeches. It happened at the water’s edge, where law meets hunger, and maps confront memory.
When Diplomacy Came Aboard the Boat
On January 29, 2026, India and Bangladesh concluded the release and repatriation of 151 fishermen and seven fishing vessels along the International Maritime Boundary Line. Twenty-three Indian fishermen detained in Bangladesh returned home. One hundred and twenty-eight Bangladeshi fishermen held in India did the same.
None of them was a criminal. All were fishermen who had crossed borders unintentionally while chasing fish that do not respect flags. These exchanges followed a familiar rhythm. Indian fishermen had drifted into Bangladeshi waters and were detained by Bangladeshi authorities. Bangladeshi fishermen, caught in similar circumstances, were arrested by Indian agencies. Geography, not intent, decided their fate.
This was not a one-off gesture. In December 2025 and earlier in January 2026, India had already facilitated the release of 142 Indian fishermen, while also repatriating 128 Bangladeshi fishermen. Each exchange reaffirmed an understanding that both countries have learned the hard way that maritime law must be enforced, but livelihoods cannot be erased.
Throughout the detentions, the Indian High Commission monitored the welfare of Indian fishermen, arranging access to essentials and even winter clothing during colder months. New Delhi reiterated that fishermen’s safety and dignity remain a priority, even when they are beyond national waters.
Drift, Detention, and the Weight of an Invisible Line
Fish migrate with monsoons, temperature gradients, plankton blooms and fishermen follow. Marine life moves along ecological highways that ignore political geometry, pulling small boats across invisible lines without warning.
In shallow waters like the Bay of Bengal and the Palk Strait, a few nautical miles can separate home from custody. Many boats still lack GPS. Engines fail. Visibility drops. Currents strengthen without notice. What looks like trespass on a radar screen often feels like survival on deck. What most naysayers do not realise is that maritime borders were drawn to manage resources, not to manage hunger.
For fishing communities, the sea is not territory but inheritance. Knowledge of waters is passed through stories, not charts and memory flows deeper than law. This tension, between enforcement and empathy, is where fisherman diplomacy is born. It is informal, repetitive, and rarely celebrated. Yet it prevents human tragedy from becoming geopolitical theatre.
A Boat Named Shubhayatra: When the Sea Takes a Father Away
In October 2025, fourteen Indian fishermen from Kultali, Kakdwip, and Hooghly boarded the trawler FB Shubhayatra for what was meant to be a routine deep-sea trip. Days into the voyage, their engine failed in the middle of the Bay of Bengal.
Wind and tide took over. With no control and no warning, the boat drifted across the invisible IMBL into Bangladeshi waters. The men did not know it as the sea gave no signal.
They were detained by the Bangladeshi Navy and jailed in Bagerhat. Back home, wives managed households alone, and Children waited. Phones stayed silent. For months, the sea gives, and then it takes a father away.
After more than three months in custody, diplomatic negotiations secured their release. In late January 2026, the men returned to Fraserganj fishing harbour. Families gathered at the shore. Relief arrived not as celebration, but as quiet exhaustion.
The return of a fisherman is never just a homecoming. It is the restoration of income, dignity, and balance in a household that survives season to season.
Fish, Flags, and the Law That Floats Above Water
At the heart of these incidents lies a dense legal architecture. The International Maritime Boundary Line, established through bilateral agreements, demarcates maritime borders between India and its neighbours, including Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. Crossing it without authorisation is treated as a violation, often leading to arrest, vessel confiscation, and prolonged detention.
Beyond that lie Exclusive Economic Zones. Under international law, coastal states enjoy sovereign rights over marine resources up to 200 nautical miles from their shores. Surveillance has intensified. Enforcement is strict. Even inadvertent violations are prosecuted.
Yet for fishermen in wooden trawlers, these boundaries remain abstract. There are no lights at sea marking jurisdiction. Law exists on paper. Livelihood exists on water.
This is not a call for lawlessness but a reminder that rules written for states are enforced on individuals whose margins for error are measured in waves, not clauses.
The Palk Strait: Where History Complicates Compassion
If India–Bangladesh exchanges reflect cooperative pragmatism, the India–Sri Lanka fishing dispute tells a more fraught story.
In the narrow Palk Strait, Indian fishermen, particularly from Tamil Nadu, are frequently detained by the Sri Lankan Navy for alleged boundary violations near Rameshwaram, Mayiladuthurai, and Mannar waters. The issue is layered with post-war security concerns, ecological damage from trawling, historical fishing rights, and domestic politics on both sides.
In mid-2025, fourteen Indian fishermen were taken into custody and remanded by a Sri Lankan court. Their families ashore faced debt, uncertainty, and protests that stretched on for weeks. Boats were seized. Detentions dragged. Repatriation became politicised.
Unlike the relatively smoother India–Bangladesh process, exchanges here have often been slower and emotionally charged. The contrast is striking. The problem is similar, but the outcomes are not. It shows how diplomatic culture and historical memory shape humanitarian decisions, even when fishermen face the same risks at sea.
The Indian Ocean’s Larger Reckoning
The Indian Ocean is not merely a body of water. It is a bloodstream of global trade, food security, and regional stability. Nearly one-third of the world’s fishers depend on its fisheries. Yet climate change, overfishing, and habitat loss are pushing stocks into decline.
Rising sea temperatures alter migration routes. Coastal erosion shrinks fishing days. Extreme weather increases drift incidents. The result is predictable as it brings more accidental crossings, more arrests, more diplomatic friction.
The response cannot be reactive alone. The ocean demands coordination between coast guards, meteorological agencies, and foreign ministries. It demands early-warning systems, shared data, and humanitarian protocols that activate before detention hardens into crisis.
When Small Exchanges Carry Big Meaning
The January 2026 exchange of 151 fishermen and seven vessels did not occur in isolation. It was built on earlier handovers, including the December 2025 repatriation of 47 Indian and 32 Bangladeshi fishermen. Coordinated efforts ensured not just people, but entire crews and boats returned together.
That detail matters. A fisherman without his boat is only half restored as returning vessels restore livelihoods, not just liberty. The smallest actors often reveal the largest fault lines in international relations. They also reveal possibilities. Quiet cooperation at sea can succeed where loud diplomacy on land fails.
Toward Shared Waters, Not Just Shared Borders
The sea remains one of humanity’s last commons. Laws try to steward it. Borders try to organise it. Neither can fully contain human necessity.
When regulation becomes rigid, diplomacy becomes essential. When enforcement risks breaking families, compassion becomes policy. The future of fishermen diplomacy lies in practical steps like coordinated patrols, shared fishing calendars, affordable navigation tools, climate-disaster response mechanisms, and faster humanitarian repatriation systems. Above all, it lies in recognising the Indian Ocean as shared human heritage.
As dusk settles, fishermen row home. The horizon glows. Nets rest. Engines quieten. They move between worlds, between law and livelihood, belonging entirely to neither, yet sustained by both. And each morning, before dawn, the sea reminds us why borders must sometimes yield to humanity.
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