Greyhound Bay was once a place where old ships came to die. A wild stretch of coast on the western edge of the Sahara, its shallows made a convenient, if desolate, spot to scuttle an obsolete trawler, freighter or tug. So many vessels went to their graves here, the nearby port of Nouadhibou seemed captive to a ghostly armada keeping vigil over the dunes.<\/p>\n
Today, navigators plotting a course for this gateway to the West African nation of Mauritania have no intention of abandoning ship. Turkish fishing boats bob at anchor, laundry strung out to dry above deck. In the open sea, the convex hulls of Chinese vessels carve V-shaped wakes through the swells. Nearer shore, nomads-turned-octopus-catchers scan the surface through the eye-slits of headgear that once shielded them from sandstorms.<\/p>\n
But the most lucrative activity of all takes place behind high walls. It would be easy to miss entirely \u2014 were it not for the stomach-turning stench.<\/p>\n
The hungry machines of Africa Prot\u00e9ine are producing fishmeal \u2013 a nutrient-laden powder that fuels the $160 billion aquaculture industry. One of the world\u2019s fastest-growing food sectors, aquaculture is rapidly overtaking wild-capture fisheries as the biggest source of fish for human consumption.<\/p>\n
From the shrimp ponds of China\u2019s river deltas to the salmon cages of Norway\u2019s fjords, the industry thrives by feeding fish to other fish. Its needs are so voracious, roughly 20 percent of the world\u2019s wild-caught fish don\u2019t even go near anyone\u2019s plate but are instead ground up to make fishmeal.<\/p>\n
With relentless demand from China pushing fishmeal prices to record highs, companies have set their sights on West Africa as a new source of supply. From state-owned conglomerates to adventurous entrepreneurs, Chinese investors are racing to build new factories on the shores of Mauritania and its two neighbors to the south, Senegal and Gambia.<\/p>\n