Five years later, fisherfolk are waiting on justice for oil spill
A public inquiry confirms that a drunken navigation error and failed oversight caused a ship’s catastrophic crash into the reef. The island is still waiting for reparations.
Lorraine Mallinder in Mahébourg

In July 2020, the MV Wakashio smashed into a coral reef off the southeast coast of Mauritius. Twelve days later, the Japanese cargo ship’s hull cracked open, spilling 1,000 tonnes of oil into the lagoon – one of the worst ecological disasters in the country’s history.
Now, a long-awaited public inquiry by a Mauritian investigative court has revealed that the crash destroyed 96km² of reef, releasing a plume of coral powder that blocked sunlight and killed marine life, costing $2.5-billion in damage to the reef.
The report has also confirmed what many people already suspected: the ship’s crew and the island’s maritime authorities share blame for a catastrophe that will affect generations to come.
Crew members celebrating a birthday were too busy catching a WiFi signal near the coast to notice they were heading bow-first for the reef. The captain’s conversations, captured on the Voyage Data Recorder, were focused on “catching mobile signals and drinking” rather than navigation.
But the Mauritian authorities also failed. The National Coast Guard waited 42 minutes after the crash to contact the ship, then falsified logbooks to suggest they had been monitoring it earlier.
The director of shipping compounded the error by ordering a cargo hold be filled with seawater to stabilise the vessel, which hastened damage to the hull 12 days later.
In the aftermath, fishers received only 113,000 Mauritian rupees (about $2,600) each in compensation from the ship’s insurer. “The reef is done, the sea has never been the same,” says fisher Jean-Ridol Edgar. He now has to spend nights at sea to find fish he once caught close to shore.
Researchers at Curtin University in Australia last year revealed that oil still lingers in the region’s biodiverse waters, including Blue Bay Marine Park, Île aux Aigrettes, and the protected wetlands.
The report also warns of long-term effects, including the buildup of “permanent organic pollutants” in fish and humans, raising cancer and neurological risks that will continue long after the oil has gone.

The findings of the inquiry could influence ongoing legal battles targeting shipowner Okiyo Maritime, its parent Nagashiki Shipping, charterer Mitsui OSK Lines, and insurer Japan P&I Club. Mauritian lawyer Robin Mardemootoo, representing 1,762 victims, is seeking Rs 3-million ($66,000) per person for “deep trauma”, alleging “gross, reckless mismanagement” by the defendants.
Progress has been slow due to cumbersome rules requiring papers to be translated into Japanese and served through government channels to the defendants.
A separate environmental damages suit by nongovernmental organisation Eco-Sud has faced similar obstacles. The group’s head, Sébastien Sauvage, criticised Okiyo for rejecting legal service while trying to cap liability at Rs 719.6-million ($16-million).

Mitsui OSK Lines, although denying liability, pledged $9.4-million and launched recovery and energy projects in Mauritius. In a controversial move, Mauritius’s previous government – ousted last year after corruption scandals and its mishandling of the spill – appointed Mitsui’s chairman as honorary consul to Tokyo in 2023, effectively undermining the legal action. The new administration has since opened its own embassy in Tokyo to pursue an independent civil claim. Fisheries minister Arvin Boolell said insurer Japan P&I Club has paid only 7.4%of the Rs 838-million ($18-million) that the Mauritian government has spent on cleanup. Reef damage outlined in the inquiry could still open the door to a major claim.
In Cité la Chaux, near the site of the spill, Jason Sarah recalled how he and his brother kept fishing through the 2020 oil spill. The brothers did not have the fishing permits that would have entitled them to government compensation after the disaster, small as it was. “We didn’t have [a] choice,” he said. “We would sail one hour through the oil. It would make my head hurt.”

“The risks are still there,” added Vincenzo Gai. The fish they catch now in the high seas are smaller, rot faster, and require more ice at sea. “It’s been five years. We’re not living, we’re surviving. How come there’s still no compensation? It’s like they forgot all about us.”
The Continent reached out to Okiyo Maritime Corp and Nagashiki Shipping for this article, but did not receive any response. Questions sent to Mitsui OSK Lines were not answered.


