The Red Quill Society operates where few organisations dare to work: deep inside the shadow-zones of the world’s oceans, where illegal fishing fleets, forced-labour operations, and dark-AIS vessels move with near-total impunity.

Earlier this year, an RQS undercover crew deployed to the Galápagos region to document illegal incursions and identify unmarked vessels operating inside protected waters. Our task was simple but dangerous: observe from the surface while coordinating with satellites and aerial assets — providing the “eyes on target” that no automated system can replace.

It worked… until the fleets noticed.

While anchored inside the EEZ, multiple armed men approached and boarded our vessel. They weren’t fishermen; they were part of a private security flotilla protecting a much larger industrial operation.

The crew defended themselves with whatever they had:

spearguns, machetes, fire extinguishers.
Improvised, blunt, and very nearly not enough.

We cut anchor and fled before the second wave arrived.

Minutes later, steel-hulled vessels emerged in the darkness and began their pursuit. They were faster, heavier, and entirely prepared to use force. They rammed us repeatedly — each strike hard enough to fracture the fibreglass hull and tear engines from their mounts.

This wasn’t theft.

It was erasure.

They were trying to ensure no evidence ever left the region.

Our vessel topped out at 8 knots.
They hunted us like prey.

After repeated impacts, our engine failed. Dead in the water, we had no ability to manoeuvre, no escape route, a punctured hull taking on seawater, and no guarantee anyone would ever learn what happened.

The attackers boarded again — more of them this time.

They confiscated anything that might contain footage or data. They stripped equipment, threatened the crew’s lives, stole passports while promising retribution, and made it clear survival was far from guaranteed.

But the crew survived.
The vessel didn’t.

The Red Quill Society exists for exactly this work: to go where scientific and educational crews cannot, to confront the operations that would target researchers with violence, and to expose the industrial systems driving ecological collapse and human-rights abuses across the oceans.

That separation matters.

EAR’s scientists, filmmakers, and educators operate openly, safely, and in partnership with Indigenous communities.

They do not enter pirate-fishing corridors.

RQS takes the hits so they never have to.

But we can only do that with the right ship.

They rammed us because they thought we were alone.
They believed no one would ever hear the story.
They believed silence was an acceptable outcome.

They were wrong.

We know how to identify them.
We know the fleet they belonged to.
And we are preparing to return — to follow the money and publicly identify their overlords.

The previous vessel was lost.
And no charter company is willing to take the risk again.
But the mission hasn’t stopped.

To continue protecting marine wildlife, Indigenous communities, and global food security from predatory dark-fleet operations, RQS needs a vessel capable of surviving both the seas and the people who exploit them.

This is where allies matter.

If you want to help us return with a vessel they cannot silence, we’re ready.
We simply need the right hull under our feet.

We’re entirely volunteer-run, and every dollar raised goes directly to the mission.