Yemen's fishermen abandon Red Sea as war transforms vital waters into deadly warzone

Al-Makha sits on Yemen's Red Sea coast, a place where men have fished for generations. Mazhar is one of them—in his 40s, with a family that depends entirely on what he pulls from the water. He has watched the sea transform from livelihood into trap.

When war arrived in Yemen in 2015, it came to the coast too. The Red Sea, once the country's second-largest source of export earnings after oil, began to close. Fish exports from the region collapsed by roughly 70 percent within a few years. But the economic numbers tell only part of the story. What matters more to Mazhar is simpler and more immediate: whether he comes home at all.

Recently, a fishing boat in nearby al-Khawkhah was fired upon. Two of Mazhar's colleagues died. No one announced why. He knows fishermen who have vanished without trace. Yet when the food runs low at home, he goes anyway. The math is brutal—stay hungry or risk the sea.

The Red Sea has become a battlefield in ways that extend far beyond the lives of fishermen. Yemen's principal port of Hodeidah sits 160 kilometers up the coast. The Bab al-Mandeb Strait lies to the south, controlling passage through one of the world's most vital shipping lanes. The coastline has been heavily contested since the war began. Houthi rebels control most of the territory from Saudi Arabia down to Hodeidah. Pro-government forces, largely the Guardians of the Republic, operate south of the port. The front line had been quiet in recent years, but that changed. Houthi attacks on shipping intensified after Israel's war on Gaza began in October 2023. The United States, United Kingdom, Israel, and Saudi Arabia have struck Houthi targets in response, including in the Red Sea itself.

For fishermen, the result is a landscape of invisible boundaries. Mazhar cannot cross certain lines at sea. Neither can fishermen in al-Khawkhah or across much of the Red Sea coast. Both warring sides have imposed restrictions since 2023. Before that, the National Resistance Force—which later became the Guardians of the Republic—kept fishermen from deep waters and the artificial reefs they had built over years, dumping scrap barrels and car bodies to create fishing grounds. Those restrictions eased for a time, then tightened again. Mazhar cannot say which faction restricts him now. Speaking out could cost him. "Both warring sides have prevented us from sailing at different times," he said. "We are the victims of every faction fighting in our area."

Some fishermen have been arrested on accusations of smuggling or aiding one side against another—charges Mazhar says are baseless. Others face a different threat entirely. Akram, another fisherman in al-Makha, watched a sea mine explode under a neighbor's boat near shore last year. Two men died. "It's a sea mine," Akram said. "How can we avoid it?" He has decided to relocate to Aden, where he believes the southern coast offers safer waters. "Nothing is worth risking our lives for," he said.

Fouad Doubla, head of the Fishermen's Association in al-Khawkhah, provided the scale of the catastrophe. More than 30,000 fishermen have been affected by conditions on the Red Sea coast. Since 2023, 113 have gone missing. Their families have received no information about their whereabouts. Sea mines have killed 264 fishermen and maimed 215 others. Many have abandoned the profession entirely. Ismail, 48, comes from a long line of fishermen. Last year he sold the gear he had accumulated over two decades and bought a minibus instead. His wife, relieved at the decision, sold some of her jewelry to help him start the business. "Danger surrounds fishermen from every direction," Ismail said, now holding a steering wheel instead of a net. "I don't think any wise man would continue fishing amid such danger." He earns less money now, but he shares every meal with his five children without constant fear.

Mazhar continues to fish close to shore, in the shrinking space still available to him. He has thought about leaving many times. "As soon as I find an alternative," he said, "I won't hesitate for a second." But for now, there is no alternative. The Red Sea that once fed Yemen has become a place where survival and danger are no longer separate questions.