Like everything made by man, from cars and trucks to airplanes and locomotives, ships have a lifespan, and when that time is up, they are scrapped. Such large hulks, of course, contain a lot of metal, and it is extremely cost-effective to gut them and recycle the metal. Welcome to Chittagong - one of the world's largest ship scrapping centers. Up to 200,000 people worked here at the same time. Chittagong accounts for half of all steel produced in Bangladesh.
After World War II, shipbuilding began to experience an unprecedented boom, with a huge number of metal ships being built around the world and more and more in developing countries. However, the question of disposing of spent ships soon arose. It turned out to be more economical and profitable to dismantle old ships for scrap in poor developing countries, where tens of thousands of low-paid workers dismantled old ships several times cheaper than in Europe.
In addition, factors such as strict health and environmental protection requirements and expensive insurance played an important role. All this made scrapping ships in developed European countries unprofitable. Here such activities are limited mainly to the dismantling of military vessels.
Recycling of old ships in developed countries is currently extremely high also due to the high cost: the cost of disposal of toxic substances such as asbestos, PCBs and those containing lead and mercury is often higher than the cost of scrap metal.
The development of the ship recycling center in Chittagong dates back to 1960, when the Greek ship MD-Alpine was washed up on the sandy coast of Chittagong after a storm. Five years later, after several unsuccessful attempts to re-refloat the MD Alpine, it was decommissioned. Then local residents began disassembling it for scrap metal.
By the mid-1990s, a large-scale ship scrapping center had developed in Chittagong. This was also due to the fact that in Bangladesh, when dismantling ships, the cost of scrap metal is higher than in any other country.
However, working conditions at ship dismantling were terrible. Here, one worker died every week due to occupational safety violations. Child labor was used mercilessly.
Ultimately, the Supreme Court of Bangladesh imposed minimum safety standards and also banned all activities that did not meet these conditions.
As a result, the number of jobs decreased, the cost of work increased and the ship recycling boom in Chittagong began to decline.
Dismantling of old ships for scrap in Chittagong (Bangladesh).
And regions of the country. The second largest city in the country and the most important port of Bangladesh.
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The city has been known since the 1st century AD. In 1338, Fakhruddin Mubarak Shah captured Chittagong. He built a road from Chandpur to Chittagong. In 1538, the Arakanese restored their rule. The Mughals captured Chittagong in 1666. From 1538 to 1666, the Portuguese raided and practically ruled Chittagong. Since 1760, the city has belonged to the East India Company. During World War II, it was the target of attacks by the Japanese, but they were unable to capture the city, as well as British India. In 1947-1971 it belonged to Pakistan, since 1971 after the war of independence it belonged to Bangladesh. From here, news of the country's declaration of independence spread throughout the country.
Demining the port after the War of Independence
As a result of the war, the berths and water area of the port were mined, and the fairways and berth areas were blocked by sunken ships. The delivery of food was blocked, and the threat of famine loomed over the newly independent country.
Residents of Bangladesh, in search of income, do not disdain the most dangerous occupation - dismantling old ships.
They immediately made it clear to me that it would not be easy to get to where they were dismantling sea vessels. “Tourists used to be brought here,” says one local resident. “They were shown how people dismantle multi-ton structures with almost bare hands. But now there is no way for us to come here.” I walked a couple of kilometers along the road that runs along the Bay of Bengal north from the city of Chittagong to a place where 80 shipbreaking yards line a 12-kilometer stretch of coastline. Each is hidden behind a high fence covered with barbed wire, there are guards everywhere and signs prohibiting photography. Strangers are not welcome here.
In the evening I hired a fishing boat and decided to make an outing to one of the shipyards. Thanks to the tide, we easily scurried between huge oil tankers and container ships, sheltering in the shadow of their giant pipes and hulls. Some ships were still intact, others resembled skeletons: stripped of their steel plating, they exposed the insides of deep, dark holds. Sea giants last an average of 25–30 years; most of those delivered for disposal were launched in the 1980s. Now that the increased cost of insurance and maintenance has made older ships unprofitable, their value lies in the steel of the hulls. We found ourselves here at the end of the day, when the workers had already gone home, and the ships rested in silence, occasionally disturbed by the splash of water and the clanking of metal coming from their bellies. The smell of sea water and fuel oil was in the air. Making our way along one of the ships, we heard ringing laughter and soon saw a group of boys. They floundered near a half-submerged metal skeleton: they climbed onto it and dived into the water. Nearby, fishermen were setting up nets in hopes of a good catch of rice fish, a local delicacy. Suddenly, very close by, a shower of sparks fell from a height of several floors. “You can’t come here! - the worker shouted from above. “What, are you tired of living?”
Ocean-going vessels are designed to last for many years
service in extreme conditions. No one thinks about the fact that sooner or later they will have to be dismantled into pieces, many of which will contain toxic materials like asbestos and lead. Ship recycling in developed countries is highly regulated and very expensive, so this dirty work is carried out mainly by Bangladesh, India and Pakistan. Labor here is very cheap, and there is almost no control of any kind. True, the situation in the industry is gradually improving, but the process is very protracted. For example, India has finally introduced new requirements for worker and environmental safety. However, in Bangladesh, where as many as 194 ships were dismantled last year, the work remains very dangerous. At the same time, it brings in a lot of money. Activists say that in three to four months, by investing about five million dollars in dismantling one ship at a shipyard in Bangladesh, you can get an average profit of up to a million. Jafar Alam, former head of the Bangladesh Shipbreaking Companies Association, disagrees with these figures: “It all depends on the class of the vessel and many other factors, such as current steel prices.” Whatever the profit, it cannot arise out of nowhere: more than 90% of materials and equipment find a second life. The process begins with the remanufacturing company purchasing the vessel from an international used vessel broker.
To deliver the ship to the dismantling site, the company hires a captain who specializes in “parking” huge ships on a strip of beach a hundred meters wide. After the ship gets stuck in the coastal sand, all liquids are drained from it and sold: the remains of diesel fuel, engine oil and fire-fighting substances. Then the mechanisms and internal equipment are removed from it. Everything is for sale, without exception, from huge engines, batteries and kilometers of copper wiring, to the bunks on which the crew slept, portholes, lifeboats and electronic devices from the captain's bridge. Then the devastated building is surrounded by workers who came to work from the poorest areas of the country. First, they dismember the ship using acetylene cutters. Then loaders drag the fragments to the shore: the steel will be melted down and sold - it will be used in the construction of buildings. “Good business, you say? But just think about the chemicals that are poisoning our land! – Mohammed Ali Shaheen, an activist of the NGO Shipbreaking Platform, is indignant. “You haven’t yet seen young widows whose husbands died under torn structures or suffocated in the holds.” For 11 of his 37 years, Shaheen has been trying to draw public attention to the hard labor of shipyard workers. The entire industry, he said, is controlled by several influential families from Chittagong, who also own related businesses, in particular metal smelting. Sahin is well aware that his country is in dire need of jobs. “I’m not asking for a complete end to ship recycling,” he says. “We just need to create normal working conditions.”
Shahin is convinced that it is not only unprincipled compatriots who are to blame for the current situation. “Who in the West will allow the environment to be polluted openly by dismantling ships right on the beach? Then why is it considered normal to get rid of ships that have become unnecessary here, paying pennies and constantly endangering the lives and health of people?” - he is indignant. Going to the nearby barracks, I saw the workers for whom Shahin was so offended. Their bodies are covered with deep scars, which are called “Chittagong tattoos”. Some men are missing fingers. In one of the huts I met a family whose four sons worked at the shipyard. The eldest, 40-year-old Mahabab, once witnessed the death of a man: a fire in the hold broke out from a cutter. “I didn’t even come to this shipyard for money, afraid that they wouldn’t just let me go,” he said. “The owners don’t like to wash dirty linen in public.” Mahabab shows a photograph on the shelf: “This is my brother Jahangir. He was engaged in cutting metal at the shipyard of Ziri Subedar, where he died in 2008.” Together with other workers, the brother spent three days unsuccessfully trying to separate a large section from the ship's hull. Then it started to rain, and the workers decided to take shelter under it. At this moment, the structure could not stand it and came off. The third brother, 22-year-old Alamgir, is not at home right now. While working on a tanker, he fell through a hatch and flew 25 meters. Luckily for him, water accumulated at the bottom of the hold, softening the blow from the fall. Alamgir's partner went down on a rope and pulled him out of the hold. The very next day, Alamgir quit his job, and now he delivers tea to the shipyard managers in the office. Younger brother Amir works as a worker's assistant and also cuts metal. He is a wiry 18-year-old with no scars on his smooth skin yet. I asked Amir if he was afraid to work, knowing what happened to his brothers. “Yes,” he replied, smiling shyly. Suddenly, during our conversation, the roof shook with a roar. There was a sound like thunder. I looked outside. “Oh, it was a piece of metal that fell off the ship,” Amir said indifferently. “We hear this every day.”
Most ships and vessels have a certain service life, which is calculated in tens of years until the equipment has to be regularly changed, and this over time makes repairs unprofitable.
In this case, the so-called ship recycling occurs. Reference: “Ship recycling is the process of dismantling ship equipment, recycling waste or placing it for long-term storage in a safe place. The recycling process is subject to high safety requirements in terms of harm to the environment. Recycling allows materials from a ship to be reused, especially steel. Equipment on board the ship can also be reused. The largest ship recycling sites are Gadani (Pakistan), Alang (India), Chittagong (Bangladesh), Aliaga (Turkey).”
Supertankers and giant cargo ships are the backbone of our global consumer society. Hundreds of meters in length, carrying millions of tons of cargo around the world inspires confidence. The construction of one such giant is almost a feat in the world of technology. However, the lives and final resting places of these steel giants are even more intriguing. Even when large ships are no longer seaworthy and repairs are not economical, the material from which they are built still matters. Nowadays, shipbreaking yards tend to be located in third world countries, in places far from the sight of supermarket-loving people, where cheap labor and environmental laws are virtually non-existent. It is in such shipyards that large ships end their days, dismantled piece by piece by hand, and completely deprived of the possibility of restoration.
20 km northwest of the city of Chittagong (Bangladesh) in the town of Fauzdarhat, the coast is dotted with ships doomed to death. There are more than twenty shipbreaking yards occupying a 16-mile coastal zone. It's an industrial desert of epic difference, where thousands of workers are forced to sign up for a miserable existence among the hulking iron ruins, working without basic protection and risking injury or toxic fumes from exposure to asbestos and other hazardous materials.
Chittagong is just one of many such places on the planet. International organizations such as GREENPEACE are already trying to raise public awareness of the looming threat to the ecosystem and the health of people, especially shipbreaking workers. Of course, there is still some hope that public pressure will force major shipping companies to implement so-called “green fleets” more widely in developed countries.
shipbreaking yards in Bangladesh
The breakdown in Bangladesh began in 1960, when a hurricane left a giant cargo ship stranded off the coast of Chittagong in the Bay of Bengal after a powerful cyclone. The ship's owners abandoned it, and local residents began to slowly dismantle the ship, cutting out metal and removing equipment. This incident is considered to be the beginning of the shipbreaking industry in Bangladesh, which gradually expanded and by the mid-1980s, Bangladesh had become one of the major shipbreaking nations in the world. Some of the world's largest decommissioned ships today scratch the vast coastline north of Chittagong, which is the country's second largest city and major seaport.
Environmental policies and laws do not work here, and wages are among the lowest in the world. This is what forced enterprising residents to start such a business. Shipbreaking beaches, which were already prohibited in most countries at that time, could be established in Bangladesh without any problems. Poverty and millions of people without education were looking for a means of livelihood. They then became the cheap labor needed for the shipbreaking industry. No major investments are required to organize ship dismantling. All you need is a large winch, some blowtorches and maybe a bulldozer. Labor in this industry is extremely cheap, and environmental and labor standards can be ignored. That is why shipbreaking in Bangladesh is quite a profitable business with minimal risk for shipowners and investors. The shipbreaking industry in Bangladesh is valued at around $1.5 billion annually.
Around the world, about 700 ocean-going ships are scrapped every year and more than 100 of them are sent to the shipyard in Bangladesh. Some of the "local" vessels reach sizes of 350 meters. It is believed that 30 percent of the world's tonnage was written off in Bangladesh between 2000 and 2010. Since then, the shipbreaking business has seen a slight decline due to the global economic downturn and stricter enforcement of national laws and regulations. However, now it is gaining momentum again and the number of shipbreaking yards is growing every year. According to experts, from 30 to 50 thousand people are employed in this industry in Bangladesh. In addition, another 100 thousand are indirectly involved in the business. Most workers are hired by shipyards through local contractors. A worker earns about 1-3 dollars a day depending on the type of work. Typically, 300-500 people are involved in dismantling a ship, and the material removed is of great value to the local economy. In particular, recycled steel is used in construction, and cookers can then be installed on new ships. Thanks to the ship graveyard, about 70-80 percent of the steel used in Bangladesh comes from shipbreaking yards in Chittagong. One of the most valuable parts of a ship or vessel is the propeller, which costs between 50 and 100 thousand dollars. Screws and other high quality parts are exported to other countries. The most worthy items taken from damaged ships are also exported to countries in Europe and Asia. In the ship graveyard you can find everything from huge generators, refrigerators, industrial faucets, kitchen sinks and sofas, cutlery and spice sets, and even unused toilet paper.
However, shipbreaking work is very dangerous. It includes many risks associated with human health. Workers are often exposed to asbestos, used for insulation in older ships, and ship paint containing lead, cadmium and arsenic. Each ship contains an average of 7,000 to 8,000 kg of asbestos and 10 to 100 tons of lead paint. Deaths often occur here due to gas poisoning, explosions and fires. Sometimes workers fall from high sides where they work without safety nets. Many people work in gas welding without protective masks, without even shoes, not to mention clothes. Local organizations in Bangladesh estimate that over the past 30 years, about 2,000 people have died and as many more have been seriously injured while working in the shipyard. General health statistics show that the percentage of people with disabilities in the Chittagong region is higher than the average for the country as a whole. Many of the workers lost limbs or suffered other disabilities while working in the shipbreaking yards.
The only method workers use to check the hazard level in certain parts of the ship for the presence of dangerous gases is chickens. The surviving bird notifies that workers can begin work in these premises, where petroleum products or other flammable substances were once located.
The ship graveyard workers are poor and simply have no other alternative to support themselves and their families. They are forced to work at a shipbreaking yard in order to somehow feed their family. They have little knowledge of the rules and regulations of basic professional health and safety standards. The Bangladesh government recently introduced a new national program to improve environmental and occupational health and safety standards at shipbreaking facilities, but it faces a long road of bureaucracy. Politicians and people who make such decisions are more selfish in their own interests. Moreover, corruption is also widespread in Bangladesh, making it difficult to enforce rules and regulations.
In recent years, the shipbreaking industry in Bangladesh has been declining due to the global economic downturn and the implementation of new stringent national policies. Some experts believe that the international convention on ship recycling, adopted by the International Maritime Organization (IMO) in January 2010, on the contrary, perpetuates dangerous shipbreaking beaches in the world's poorest countries, and impedes the transition to safer and more environmentally friendly forms of ship recycling.
“...Tourists used to be brought here,” says one of the local residents. ─ They were shown how people dismantle multi-ton structures with almost bare hands. But now there is no way for us to come here..."
I walked a couple of kilometers along the road that runs along the Bay of Bengal north from the city of Chittagong to a place where 12 - a kilometer stretch of coastline are located 80 ship dismantling yards.
Each is hidden behind a high fence covered with barbed wire, there are guards everywhere and signs prohibiting photography. Strangers are not welcome here.
Ship recycling in developed countries is highly regulated and very expensive, so this dirty work is carried out mainly by Bangladesh, India and Pakistan. In the evening I hired a fishing boat and decided to make an outing to one of the shipyards.
Thanks to the tide, we easily scurried between huge oil tankers and container ships, sheltering in the shadow of their giant pipes and hulls. Some ships were still intact, others resembled skeletons: stripped of their steel plating, they exposed the insides of deep, dark holds.
Sea giants serve on average 25 −30 years, most of those delivered for disposal were launched in 1980 -e. Now that the increased cost of insurance and maintenance has made older ships unprofitable, their value lies in the steel of the hulls.
We found ourselves here at the end of the day, when the workers had already gone home, and the ships rested in silence, occasionally disturbed by the splash of water and the clanking of metal coming from their bellies. The smell of sea water and fuel oil was in the air.
Making our way along one of the ships, we heard ringing laughter and soon saw a group of boys. They floundered near a half-submerged metal skeleton: they climbed onto it and dived into the water.
Nearby, fishermen were setting up nets in hopes of a good catch of rice fish, a local delicacy. Suddenly, very close by, a shower of sparks fell from a height of several floors. “You can’t come here! - the worker shouted from above. “What, are you tired of living?” Ocean-going vessels are designed to last for many years in extreme conditions.
No one thinks about the fact that sooner or later they will have to be dismantled into pieces, many of which will contain toxic materials like asbestos and lead. Ship recycling in developed countries is highly regulated and very expensive, so this dirty work is carried out mainly by Bangladesh, India and Pakistan.
Labor here is very cheap, and there is almost no control of any kind. True, the situation in the industry is gradually improving, but this process is very protracted.
For example, India has finally introduced new requirements for worker and environmental safety. However, in Bangladesh, where last year they dismantled as much 194 vessel, this work remains very dangerous.
At the same time, it brings in a lot of money. Activists say that in three to four months, by investing about five million dollars in dismantling one ship at a shipyard in Bangladesh, you can get an average profit of up to a million.
Jafar Alam, former head of the association of ship recycling companies in Bangladesh, disagrees with these figures:
“... It all depends on the class of the vessel and on many other factors, for example, on current steel quotes...”
Whatever the profit, it cannot arise from scratch: more 90 % of materials and equipment find a second life.
The process begins with the remanufacturing company purchasing the vessel from an international used vessel broker. To deliver the vessel to the dismantling site, the company hires a captain specializing in “parking lot” huge ships on a strip of beach a hundred meters wide.
After the ship gets stuck in the coastal sand, all liquids are drained from it and sold: the remains of diesel fuel, engine oil and fire-fighting substances. Then the mechanisms and internal equipment are removed from it.
Everything is for sale, without exception, from huge engines, batteries and kilometers of copper wiring, to the bunks on which the crew slept, portholes, lifeboats and electronic devices from the captain's bridge. Then the devastated building is surrounded by workers who came to work from the poorest areas of the country.
First, they dismember the ship using acetylene cutters. Then loaders drag the fragments to the shore: the steel will be melted down and sold - it will be used in the construction of buildings.
“...Good business, you say? But just think about the chemicals that are poisoning our land! ─ Mohammed Ali Shaheen, an activist of the NGO Shipbreaking Platform, is indignant. ─You haven’t yet seen young widows whose husbands died under torn structures or suffocated in the holds... "
11 years of my life 37 Shahin is trying to draw public attention to the hard labor of workers in shipyards.
The entire industry, he said, is controlled by several influential families from Chittagong, who also own related businesses, in particular metal smelting. Sahin is well aware that his country is in dire need of jobs.
“...I don’t demand a complete stop to ship recycling,” he says. ─ We just need to create normal working conditions...”
Shahin is convinced that it is not only unprincipled compatriots who are to blame for the current situation.
“... Who in the West will allow the environment to be polluted openly by dismantling ships right on the beach? Then why is it considered normal to get rid of ships that have become unnecessary here, paying pennies and constantly endangering the lives and health of people? ... "
- he is indignant. Going to the nearby barracks, I saw the workers for whom Shahin was so offended. Their bodies are covered with deep scars, which are called here “Chittagong tattoos”. Some men are missing fingers.
In one of the huts I met a family whose four sons worked at the shipyard. Senior, 40 -year-old Mahabab once witnessed the death of a man: a fire in the hold broke out from a cutter.
“...I didn’t even come to this shipyard for money, afraid that they wouldn’t just let me go,” he said. ─ Owners don’t like to wash dirty linen in public...”
Mahabab shows a photograph on the shelf:
“...This is my brother Jahangir. He was engaged in cutting metal at the shipyard of Ziri Subedar, where he died in 2008 year..."
Together with other workers, the brother spent three days unsuccessfully trying to separate a large section from the ship's hull.
Then it started to rain, and the workers decided to take shelter under it. At this moment, the structure could not stand it and came off. Third brother 22 -year-old Alamgir is not at home now.
While working on a tanker, he fell through a hatch and flew 25 meters. Luckily for him, water accumulated at the bottom of the hold, softening the blow from the fall.
Alamgir's partner went down on a rope and pulled him out of the hold. The very next day, Alamgir quit his job, and now he delivers tea to the shipyard managers in the office.
Younger brother Amir works as a worker's assistant and also cuts metal. It's wiry 18 - a year old guy, there are no scars on his smooth skin yet. I asked Amir if he was afraid to work, knowing what happened to his brothers. "Yes"“,” he answered, smiling shyly.
Suddenly, during our conversation, the roof shook with a roar. There was a sound like thunder.
I looked outside.
“...Oh, it was a piece of metal that fell off the ship,” Amir said indifferently. ─ We hear this every day...”
Marine recycling centers: map
At low tide, workers drag a five-ton cable to winch the fragments of the ship that form during its dismantling to shore.
These guys claim they already have 14 — this is the age at which you are allowed to work in ship recycling. Shipyard owners give preference to young disassemblers - they are cheaper and do not suspect the danger that threatens them.
In addition, they can get into the most inaccessible corners of the ship.
Steel is cut from ship hulls in fragments, each weighing between 500 kilograms. Using scrap materials as supports, loaders drag these sections onto trucks.
Pieces of steel are melted down into reinforcement and used in the construction of buildings.
Loaders spend days stuck in the mud, which contains heavy metals and toxic paint: such mud spreads from ships throughout the area during high tide.
Workers armed with cutters work in pairs, protecting each other. It will take them three to six months to completely dismantle the ship, depending on its size.
It took several days to cut through the decks of the ship L eona I. And then a huge part of it suddenly separates, “spitting out” steel fragments to the side where the shipyard management was located. This cargo ship was built in Croatia, in the city of Split, 30 years ago - this is the average service life of large-tonnage sea vessels.
Workers warm themselves by fires made from gaskets removed from pipe joints, without thinking that such gaskets may contain asbestos.
Near 300 people gathered for the funeral of Rana Babu from the village of Dunot at the foot of the Himalayas. The wound was just 22 years, he worked on dismantling a ship and died from an explosion of accumulated gas.
“...We are burying a young guy,” lamented one of those who came to say goodbye. ─ When will this end? ... "
Photos: Mike Hettwer