SA’s prized squid is exported while locals must eat cheap imports

The next time you order calamari in a South African restaurant, keep this in mind: you will most likely be served imported squid that is generally second rate. Virtually all top-quality squid caught off our shores is destined for export.

This correspondent and calamari consumer was blissfully unaware of this state of affairs until I recently did a four-day hike known as the Chokka Trail in and around Cape St Francis. The hike itself, covering about 55km in total, was spectacular and scenic, involving ambles over ancient sand dunes and beaches and through thickets of lush coastal vegetation.

But the most revealing aspect came at the end when we had a tasting paired with white wine at Clive’s Chokka Block Restaurant in Port St Francis, owned by Clive Canter. This was no run-of-the-mill tasting.

Canter launched into a detailed one-hour description of the chokka squid (Loligo reynaudii) and the industry built on it, including a demonstration of the jigs and hand lines used to catch the mollusc.

There was even a brief biology lesson with chokka cadavers on display. Equipped with eight arms, two tentacles and a bird-like beak, chokka are predators of note and grow fast – their lifespan is only 12 to 18 months and they die after spawning. But they leave thousands of fertilised eggs as their legacy. 

For the tasting itself, we had various samples of squid plated for us to try. On one side were rings and a rectangular sliver that were imports from China, India and the Falklands. On the other lay samples of the local chokka.

The difference was immediately obvious: the imported calamari seemed rubbery and processed and was not nearly as flavourful as the local version. And this is the white gold that is exported.

I cannot verify whe­­ther Canter’s restaurant is the only one in South Africa that serves locally caught chokka – at least the prime squid caught off the Eastern Cape coast – but there can only be a handful at most.

In Canter’s rendering, the local industry asked him to entertain visiting foreign clients and he was like, “Well, how can I do that if I don’t serve what you are selling them?”

It all serves to cast a net around a number of interesting points.

Floating sweatshops

For starters, there are many concerns about the sustainability of the global squid industry, which has been linked to exploitative labour practices. “Human rights abuses in squid fisheries and global value chains – including modern slavery, bonded labour, human trafficking, child labour, unfair remuneration, indecent working conditions and a lack of gender equality – have become an increasing concern for the industry in the past few years,” notes the Sustainable Fisheries Partnership.

“Slave-caught squid” is unappetising, to say the least.

A September 2025 report by the Environmental Justice Foundation on shortfin squid fisheries in Argentina is scathing in its assessment of an unregulated industry plundering the high seas.

“One of the largest unregulated squid fisheries in the world, every year hundreds of distant water vessels descend on the area to catch the species as it migrates out of Argentina’s waters. [...] The fleet – so large it can be seen from space – has exploded over the past decade, amid rising demand for squid and diversion of fishing activity from depleted finfish populations,” it says.

This massive global industry delivers a cheap product, and economics is behind the calamari that arrives on your plate. And market forces are behind the export of the squid harvested off the Eastern Cape coast.

“The squid sector is export focused, with 99% of South African squid being exported, mainly to Europe and the Far East,” says the South African Squid Management Industrial Association (Sasmia).

“The reason for this is that the species, Loligo reynaudii, is the same as that found in the Mediterranean and Japan and it is in high demand in these areas. The price that can be achieved by exporting is usually three to four times what it costs to import the alternative cheaper species of squid (calamari) consumed on the local market.”

Hard work, low pay

Although it has not been certified as sustainable by bodies such as the Marine Stewardship Council, chokka harvested in South African waters is caught manually with hand lines – a practice regarded as far more sustainable than the mechanised trawler or automated jigging processes used elsewhere in the world.

Read more: The Sassi Seafood Guide for sustainable summer dining

This makes the industry both labour-intensive and export-oriented – a microcosm of what the wider South African economy is striving to become.

According to Sasmia, the industry has 123 licensed vessels employing 2,451 crew on board and about 550 support staff on land. The boats go out for up to 21 days at a time, and the work is physically gruelling: hours and hours in cramped conditions throwing out a hand line with a jig and hauling in squid. The crew members are remunerated according to what they catch.

Read more: Squid fishing rights clash as small-scale cooperatives demand fair chance amid capitalist challenges

The Eastern Cape has an unemployment rate of 41%, the second-highest provincial rate in South Africa. This is the bait that reels in a workforce ready for arduous labour.

The industry has faced criticism over working and sanitary conditions and pay. A 2018 publication by the Nelson Mandela University painted a dire picture of low wages and exploitation with the provocative title of Let Us Not Be Slaves until We Die: The lives of chokka fishers. Safety is another concern and the report noted that 11 chokka fishermen died at sea in 2017.

But South Africa’s labour laws do afford some protection with, for example, a daily minimum pay set if the catch is poor, according to the report.

Sasmia says on its website: “The labour side of the sector is managed through a statutory council where the industry and unions agree on minimum conditions of employment and minimum wages.”

The bottom line is that the local industry is in all likelihood more ecologically sustainable than at the global level, though its labour practices have drawn critical scrutiny. But South African consumers eat plenty of domestic agricultural products that are the fruit of labour that is both low wage and physically hard.

On this front, though, South African consumers don’t have a choice. Whether or not you feel the domestic industry is ecologically sound and are okay with its work incentives, on your plate you are most likely getting the cheap imports that come from a fishery that is probably unsustainable and in many cases exploitative. DM

This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.