Venezuela-US Fishing Boat Spat: Why Malta’s Mariners Are Watching the Caribbean Closely

# Venezuela Accuses US of ‘Illegal’ Seizure of Fishing Boat — What This Means for Malta’s Maritime Community

Valletta’s Grand Harbour has seen its fair share of naval dramas over the centuries, but the latest flashpoint unfolding 8,500 kilometres away in the Caribbean is sending ripples through Malta’s tight-knit fishing sector. Venezuela’s government has accused the United States of “illegally” seizing the Venezuelan-flagged fishing vessel *Taurus 1* inside what Caracas claims are its territorial waters, ratcheting up tensions in a region already on edge over sanctions, migration and drug interdiction.

For Maltese fishermen who regularly navigate the contested waters between Malta and North Africa — and who still remember the 2013 incident when a local trawler was fired on by a Libyan patrol boat — the story feels both distant and eerily familiar. “Any time a bigger power boards a smaller boat, we pay attention,” said Jesmond Xuereb, secretary of the Malta Federation of Fishermen. “Our boats go as far as Libya and Tunisia; an international incident reminds us how quickly things can escalate.”

According to Venezuela’s Defence Minister Vladimir Padrino López, the 45-metre long-liner was intercepted on Tuesday by a U.S. Coast Guard cutter while fishing off the state of Sucre. Washington has yet to confirm the boarding, but sources in Miami told Reuters the vessel is suspected of “illicit activity,” a catch-all phrase often tied to sanctions-busting or drug trafficking. No crew injuries were reported, yet Caracas has demanded the “immediate return” of the boat and its 18 Venezuelan sailors.

Why should Malta care? Because the tiny Mediterranean archipelago depends on the same rules-based order that Venezuela claims Washington just breached. Malta’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ) is 11 times larger than its land mass; tuna pens, trawlers and traditional luzzus generate €120 million annually and employ 3,200 people, government figures show. When major powers ignore UNCLOS — the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea — Maltese officials worry the precedent could embolden others to act with impunity closer to home.

“International law is our shield,” Foreign Minister Ian Borg told journalists outside Castille on Wednesday. “Whether it’s the central Mediterranean or the Caribbean, every state has the right to exploit resources in its own waters without fear of unilateral enforcement.” Borg stopped short of backing either side, but Malta’s permanent mission in New York is expected to raise the incident during next week’s Security Council open debate on maritime security.

Inside the Valletta fish market, the morning buzz is less about geopolitics and more about diesel prices, but the Venezuelan standoff still colours conversation. “We export swordfish to Caracas sometimes,” said vendor Rita Cassar while wrapping a dorado in yesterday’s *Times of Malta*. “If ports shut down or insurers panic, our buyers disappear.” Her concern is not theoretical: sanctions already complicate payments for Maltese seafood reaching Venezuela, and any escalation could sever the niche but profitable route.

Academics see bigger stakes. Professor Angela Delia, who lectures maritime law at the University of Malta, argues that small island states must speak up. “When the U.S. or any navy operates without flag-state consent, it chips away at the very convention that protects Malta’s underwater gas pipelines and sub-sea cables,” she explained. Delia points to 2019, when Malta clashed with Italy over migrant rescues, to illustrate how quickly “maritime courtesy” unravels. “Today’s Caribbean seizure is tomorrow’s central Mediterranean stand-off,” she warned.

Meanwhile, the Venezuelan community in Malta — estimated at 400 people, many here on student visas or working in iGaming — is following events on WhatsApp voice notes. “My cousin is a fisherman in Cumaná,” said Andrés González over coffee in Strait Street. “He says the boat was just catching red snapper. If the U.S. can take it, what next?” González plans to light candles at the Jesuit church on Sunday, a Latin-American tradition that has found a home inside baroque Maltese walls.

Back at the fishermen’s cooperative in Marsaxlokk, Jesmond Xuereb is updating the notice board with weather alerts. “We survived Phoenicians, Romans and Napoleon,” he laughed, gesturing at the colourful boats bobbing in the bay. “But in 2024 our biggest threat isn’t storms — it’s politics.” Whether the *Taurus 1* release comes quietly or spirals into a larger diplomatic row, Malta’s mariners will be watching. After all, the same currents that carry Venezuelan snapper also guide Maltese lampuki across oceans and, ultimately, into our national identity.