Taiwan is surrounded by sea on all four sides, boasts a diverse coastal topography, and has actual jurisdiction over as many as 165 islands. Those islands can be further classified by their formation—volcanic islands, continental islands, coral islands, and more. Located in the subtropical monsoon zone of the Pacific, Taiwan experiences four distinct seasons: heavy summer rains promote active sediment deposition along the western coast, giving rise to unique wetland ecosystems quite unlike those found on the eastern coast or coral island shores. Every winter, the Northeast Monsoon ushers in the China Coastal Current, flowing from north to south along Taiwan's coast. This cold, low-salinity water mass carries rich nutrients from the rivers of mainland China, and off Taiwan's northern and eastern shores it meets the Kuroshio—what divers affectionately call "the big blue"—creating a convergence of two powerful ocean currents around Taiwan's waters. This convergence provides an abundant food source for marine life and draws large marine animals from both water masses to feed. Can marine protected areas (MPAs) truly be the best answer for ocean sustainability?

Taiwan's waters were once teeming with fish. Photo: 京太郎
Under the confluence of climate, topography, and ocean currents, Taiwan has effectively become a rich database of marine ecosystems. The relatively gentle continental shelf along Taiwan's western coast, shaped over millennia by sediment deposition and river inflow, creates a safer, nutrient-rich environment where waters shallower than 200 m serve as a cradle for newly emerging species. On the other side of the island, Taiwan's eastern coast faces the Pacific: the seafloor drops steeply from the shoreline, and the Kuroshio flows year-round, making migratory fish and large cetaceans the dominant ecological feature. Shifting our perspective to Penghu—the island group sitting off Taiwan's western coast—Penghu lies at the very intersection of the China Coastal Current and a branch of the Kuroshio. The mix of migratory and bottom-dwelling catches recorded there reflects just how varied the underwater topography truly is.
The First Axiom of Economics: People Are Rational Decision-Makers
Taiwan enjoys numerous inherent natural advantages and should be making full use of—and protecting—everything nature has provided. Yet years of ignoring the problem of overfishing, combined with dramatic improvements in fishing efficiency, have made the depletion of fish stocks along Taiwan's coast a stark reality. Although the government has in recent years begun to push policies regulating fishing methods and protected species, the reality of high bycatch rates raises a difficult question. Imagine a species hauled aboard as bycatch that is not itself a protected species (and therefore not banned from landing): assuming people are rational decision-makers, a fisher will naturally choose to bring it back to port and sell it to offset fuel costs (non-target catch commands a low market price—shark, for instance, fetches far less than Spanish mackerel). This is precisely why the docks of major fishing harbours across Taiwan have become runways for sharks, Stingray, and other large marine animals.
Bycatch rate: when a fishing method captures species other than the target species, those unintended catches are referred to as bycatch. For example, longline fisheries targeting tuna frequently catch seabirds, sharks, and sea turtles as bycatch. Research reports indicate that tuna longline fleets may incidentally catch up to 4,000 seabirds per year. In tropical Atlantic waters, sea turtle bycatch rates can reach as high as 0.030 individuals per thousand hooks—a truly alarming figure.
Now imagine the government designates certain species as protected and requires fishers to report any such catch to the relevant authorities. If you are a fisher locked in a constant battle with the sea, every second counting, would you sacrifice precious hold space to dutifully bring the catch back to port, dutifully complete the cumbersome government reporting process, and dutifully watch it be handed over to a research institution—or would you simply throw it back overboard and keep fishing for your target species? Return once more to the fundamental premise that people are rational decision-makers, and the answer is self-evident. Looking at it pessimistically, banning the catch of specific species merely spares concerned members of the public or the media from witnessing the tragedy at the docks, offering a kind of false comfort. Yet the tragedy continues to unfold out at sea every single day. For this reason, establishing MPAs has come to be widely regarded around the world as one of the more effective approaches to marine conservation. Further reading: The silent tragedy played out daily in fishing harbours — sharks, manta rays, and fishermen

Bycatch remains an unsolved problem for many modern fishing methods. Yet these fish are rarely high-value catches.
According to the definition of a "Marine Protected Area (MPA)" established by The World Conservation Union (IUCN): "Any area of intertidal or subtidal terrain, together with its overlying water and associated flora, fauna, historical and cultural features, which has been reserved by law or other effective means to protect part or all of the enclosed environment." Taiwan's Fisheries Agency under the Executive Yuan's Council of Agriculture defines a marine protected area as: "A zone within a defined distance seaward of the mean high-water line that possesses special natural landscapes, important cultural heritage, or sustainably utilised ecological resources, and which must be managed and protected by law or other effective means."
To put it in plain terms: within a designated sea area, the competent authority may enact legislation—based on actual conditions—to restrict human activities in that area, with the goal of restoring the marine ecosystem. The question of which authority is "competent" is in fact the single greatest sticking point in advancing marine conservation in Taiwan; we will address that in detail shortly. For now, let's focus on the establishment of MPAs themselves. MPAs are generally zoned by sensitivity level into a core zone, a buffer zone, and a sustainable-use zone—the exact terminology varies by country or region, but the underlying logic is broadly the same. According to the Fisheries Agency under Taiwan's Executive Yuan's Council of Agriculture, MPAs are publicly designated as follows:
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"No entry or impact" MPAs: The most strictly regulated category. Entry into the designated sea area is permitted only for scientific research, monitoring, or restoration purposes, and only with prior approval from the competent authority; or, in some cases, entry is allowed but any action that may affect or damage the local ecosystem, cultural assets, or natural landscape is prohibited. This category includes the Dongsha Atoll National Park – Marine Ecological Protection Zone, Kenting National Park – Marine Ecological Protection Zone and Special Marine Landscape Zone, and the Penghu Cat Islet Seabird Reserve – Buffer Zone, among others.
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"No-take" MPAs: This is what is commonly known as a no-take zone, typically designated as the core zone of an MPA. All extractive (or developmental) use of natural or cultural resources is prohibited throughout the area. This category includes the Dongsha Atoll National Park – Special Landscape Zone, Kenting National Park – Marine Recreation Zone and General Marine Control Zone, and the Keelung City Wanghaijhang Chaojing Bay Resource Conservation Area.
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"Multi-use" MPAs: Local governments across Taiwan, under the premise of sustainable use, restrict certain extractive (or developmental) activities in specific waters to reduce the impact of fishing and recreational activities on the marine environment. According to the Fisheries Agency's website, there are 26 fishery resource conservation areas and related fishing gear/method and specific fishery restricted zones designated nationwide. County and city governments and coastal management authorities have also announced various specific restricted fishery zones, including gillnet fishing restriction zones, light-fishing restriction zones, artificial reef no-take zones, and others.

Establishing MPAs gives marine life room to breathe. Photo: Marco Chang
Do MPAs Mean a Total Ban on Fishing?
Once an MPA is drawn on paper, the very first challenge it faces is that such legislation inevitably affects communities that have depended on these waters for generations. Take the Keelung City Wanghaijhang Chaojing Bay Resource Conservation Area as an example: ever since the Keelung City Government announced its establishment in May 2016, it has faced enormous pressure from local fishers. The all-too-real dynamics of electoral politics in a democratic society have driven local representatives to put pressure on the city government in turn. But it's worth stepping back and considering, from a broader and longer-term perspective, the lasting benefits an MPA can deliver:
Spill-over Effect
Designating an MPA does not mean simply drawing a line on a map and hoping the fish will live happily ever after within its boundaries. In fact, one of the key goals behind establishing an MPA is to generate a spill-over effect. Think of the protected area as a bank and the fish as deposits: leave your savings in the bank long enough and they will generate a continuous stream of interest. Every environment has a maximum carrying capacity for its inhabitants, and once that capacity is reached, fish naturally spill out beyond the MPA's boundaries—becoming a sustained and renewable source of catch. But this benefit works exactly like compound interest on savings: it depends on the size of the principal and the time allowed for compounding. If everyone grabs for the short-term gain and rushes to withdraw the principal, it merely confirms the vicious cycle described by the Chinese proverb of draining a pond to catch all the fish.
MPAs Can Save Large Species
Anyone who follows marine conservation or fisheries issues will know that over the past 20 to 30 years, populations of large predatory fish in the ocean have declined dramatically—by as much as 80–90%—due to the expansion of commercial fisheries. Examples include the bluefin tuna, prized by East Asian cuisines, and the various species of shark that divers consider among the ocean's greatest treasures. Once an MPA is established, it can maintain a complete local food chain, continuously supplying food for apex predators and large marine animals at the top of the pyramid. When these fish reach adulthood, their reproductive output is remarkable: compared with smaller individuals of the same species, they have higher egg production rates, hatching rates, and survival rates. An MPA therefore does more than provide a safe haven where fish can live undisturbed—it serves as a nursery, allowing species to reproduce and thrive sustainably in these waters across generations.
MPAs Drive the Transformation of Fishing Village Industries
Many divers will know the experience of lugging oversized bags of gear on an exhausting journey to Malapascua in the Philippines, all for the chance to glimpse a Thresher Shark. About 20 years ago, local fishers discovered that Thresher Sharks regularly visit an offshore pinnacle every morning to receive cleaning services from small fish. The community subsequently abandoned blast fishing in favour of "shark tourism." This tiny, extremely remote island off Cebu now welcomes divers from around the world every year. Alongside a growing number of dive shops, the island has also seen the emergence of high-end massage parlours, characterful guesthouses, international restaurants, and a full range of supporting services. According to statistics, the diving industry accounts for one quarter of the Philippines' total tourism revenue, generating NT$1.2 billion in dive-tourism income each year.
While we may admire the Philippines for cashing in so successfully on dive tourism, it's worth turning our gaze back to the Keelung City Wanghaijhang Chaojing Bay Resource Conservation Area in northern Taiwan. Long before the MPA was established, the dive site at the underwater secret garden near Chaojing had already attracted divers with its enormous gorgonians and rich biodiversity—but limited supporting infrastructure and relatively strong currents meant only a small number of divers ever made it a destination, and the relationship with local industries remained tenuous at best. Since the Keelung City Government publicly announced the establishment of the Wanghaijhang Chaojing Bay Resource Conservation Area in 2016, however, it has been steadily developing the infrastructure needed to support dive tourism—shower facilities, restrooms, trail improvements, and more. The site has gradually become a landmark dive destination along Taiwan's North Coast, drawing a steady stream of divers during peak season, and ancillary services such as scuba tank rentals, dive guiding, and dive instruction have begun to take root.
In 2019, the area's first local dive instructor from the fishing village community was certified—Jian Chen-Yu—in the hope that direct participation by local residents would offer yet another effective pathway for the village's transformation. And marine tourism is not the exclusive domain of scuba divers. The rise of underwater photography and the reach of social media have attracted snorkelers who had never previously visited, and snorkeling—a more accessible way for the public to connect with the ocean—has become another driving force behind the village's reinvention. The Chaojing Bay Festival, which the Keelung City Government works hard to organise every year, conveys the beauty of the entire bay to the general public. In addition to installing scenic art installations that cater to the selfie culture of younger generations, the festival also programmes diverse fishing village tours, exhibitions at the National Museum of Marine Science and Technology, and other activities—gradually shifting the small fishing village's relationship with the sea from a single, extractive dependence on fishing to a multifaceted industry that integrates tourism and recreation.

Through ocean-engagement activities, marine life no longer represents merely a price tag and a recipe on a menu. Photo: Spark
With MPAs in Place, Will Taiwan's Oceans Simply Flourish from Here On?
Because this article has grown rather long, let's take a breath here. Stay tuned for Ocean Naturalist Takes You Back to Basics on Marine Protected Areas — Part 2 (【Drawing More Protected Areas Means Nothing Without Enforcement!】Ocean Naturalist Takes You Back to Basics on Marine Protected Areas — Part 2)! We will draw on the long-term research findings of scientists who have been tracking species within Taiwan's protected areas, and let the data tell us whether the MPAs Taiwan has established deliver an ending as happy as a fairy tale. In Part 3 we will also share how specific species serve as important indicator species within marine ecosystems! If you find our content valuable, please share it with more friends so they too can learn about the importance of MPAs!
One final plug: if you love the ocean or are looking to rediscover it, we highly recommend Ocean Naturalist — Northern Taiwan Edition, published by BlueTrend!

Ocean Naturalist — Northern Taiwan Edition, published by BlueTrend
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Cover illustration: Xu Yan-Kai
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