Why England Needs Its First Ocean Sanctuary
Ocean sanctuaries do exist in quite a few places worldwide, including Lamlash Bay in Scotland (it took years of campaigning, yet still England has none). An ocean sanctuary is basically a ‘no-take zone’ where fish and other marine creatures are free from harm (fishing nets, by-catch etc).
Obviously tides mean rubbish and pollution can travel. But no-one is allowed to disturb any creature within that zone, helping to restore natural ecosystems.
Inspired by a similar project in New Zealand, the Scottish ocean sanctuary is home to one of the largest maerl beds in Scotland, with coralline pink seaweed forming a maze for small species to find food and hide from predators. Today no fish or shellfish can be taken from its waters or seabed.
Thank God for EarthJustice, which has just won a legal case, after President Trump tried to roll back a protected ocean sanctuary in Hawaii, and restore commercial fishing for money. This area of 490,000 square miles of ocean contains coral reefs and seven wildlife refuges.
The rule of law prohibits the Trump administration from stripping the Pacific Islands Heritage Marine National Monument of established protections, including the ban on fishing. These lands and waters belong to all Americans, and we will not let this administration hand them over to private industry.
The Benefits of Ocean Sanctuaries
It’s not just about stopping over-fishing and by-catch. Shrimp farming can destroy an ocean bed in one swoop. Anchors from fishing boats can harm seagrass meadows, which are home to endangered sea turtles and seahorses.
And coral reefs (which provide food and shelter for many creatures) are also safe from harm.
England’s coasts are very biodiverse, and could really do with some ocean sanctuaries, to leave such areas undisturbed. This would seals, dolphins and porpoises, and also protect harmless basking sharks and ancient kelp forests.
Lundy Marine Conservation Zone
Although not exactly the same as an ocean sanctuary, England does have a few marine conservation zones. One is Lundy Island (just off Devon’s coast). Once it was over-fished, but now teems with grey seals, wild lobsters (who are not caught and boiled in pots) and colourful anemones.
The clear waters have brought wild puffins back. And the island makes its money from ecotourism.
Read more about England’s other marine protection zones (good news!)
At present, just 1% of the world’s oceans are protected sanctuaries. Campaigners want this to be 40%
Orcas Tell Off Returning Fishing Boats!
During the pandemic, one sea in the Mediterranean went quiet. After lockdown ended, nobody knew why local orcas (killer whales) were ramming and sinking the boats.
But some marine biologists believed they were annoyed that the fishing had come back. After a year or two of quiet and having their seas restocked with food.
England’s marine map can look reassuring, with many sites labelled as protected. The catch is that protection can mean different things. Some places have firm limits. Others mostly rely on goodwill, or rules that are hard to follow at sea. A sanctuary raises the bar, because it starts with one clear promise: the ecosystem comes first.
A well-designed sanctuary doesn’t have to be a blunt “no” to people. It can balance protection with smart local use through zoning, clear rules, and good enforcement. That means everyone knows where they stand, and the sea gets the breathing space it needs.
A plain-English definition, no jargon
An ocean sanctuary is a defined area of sea with long-term protection. It has clear boundaries, science-led rules, and strong limits on activities that damage habitats, especially the seabed. The focus is on recovery, not just slowing decline.
Most sanctuaries use zoning because one size rarely fits all. In practice, that can look like:
- Core zones: highly protected areas, often no-take, where nature can rebuild fastest.
- Buffer zones: areas with tighter limits, allowing low-impact activity under clear rules.
This isn’t about drawing lines for the sake of it. Zoning can protect the most sensitive nursery and feeding grounds, while keeping room for sensible local use in the wider area.
If a protected area is a “please be careful” sign, an ocean sanctuary is a locked gate with a key, a map, and someone checking it.
Why many existing ‘protected’ sites are protected on paper
The biggest problem is that some “protected” places still allow activities that can scrape, plough, or disturb the seabed. Bottom-towed fishing gear is often the flashpoint, because it can damage reefs, seagrass, and other slow-growing habitats.
Monitoring also tends to be patchy. The sea is big, and enforcement costs money. Meanwhile, rules can be hard to understand on the water. Boundaries may be complex, maps can be confusing, and different rules can apply to different features in the same site. When people can’t easily tell what’s allowed, compliance drops, even among those who want to do the right thing.
A sanctuary, done properly, makes protection visible and workable. It simplifies the message: this area matters, these are the rules, and they will be enforced.
Why England needs its first ocean sanctuary
Protecting the sea can sound abstract until you connect it to everyday life. Healthier waters can mean more wildlife to see from the shore, better fishing prospects over time, and coasts that cope better with storms. It can also make England’s marine protection easier to explain, because a sanctuary is a clear commitment, not a patchwork of exceptions.
The point isn’t perfection. It’s direction. When habitats recover, they often start doing their jobs again, quietly and steadily, like a well-built sea wall that also feeds fish.
More life in the sea can mean more fish over time
Fish need safe places to spawn, feed, and grow. When the seabed gets disturbed again and again, those nurseries can thin out. A sanctuary protects key areas so young fish and shellfish have a better chance to reach maturity. Over time, that can support surrounding waters through “spillover”, where adult fish move out of the safest zones into nearby fishing grounds.
It’s also worth saying plainly: a sanctuary is not a plan to ban all fishing everywhere. It’s a targeted approach, protecting the places that do the most work for the wider ecosystem. Done well, it can sit alongside fair access, seasonal rules, and gear changes that reduce harm.
Coastal towns need working harbours, not museum pieces. A sanctuary should recognise that, because long-term fish stocks matter to livelihoods as much as they matter to wildlife.
Healthier seas help protect coasts
Some marine habitats act like living infrastructure. Seagrass meadows and saltmarshes can soften wave energy and hold sediment in place. Kelp beds can slow water flow and provide shelter for many species. Oyster reefs can filter water as they feed, improving clarity and supporting other life.
These habitats also store carbon in plants and sediments. People often call this blue carbon, meaning carbon held in ocean and coastal ecosystems. You don’t need to get technical to see the benefit: protect the habitat, and you protect a natural store that took years to build.
Recovery won’t look the same everywhere. Still, it’s realistic to expect visible signs where pressure drops: seagrass returning in sheltered bays, thicker shellfish beds, and larger fish appearing more often on reefs. Those changes can make snorkelling, diving, angling, and wildlife watching better too, which matters for local tourism.
A sanctuary only works if people believe in it. That means choosing the right place, setting rules people can follow, and funding enforcement so the rules mean something. It also means being honest about trade-offs and supporting communities through the change.
Good data helps, but so does common sense. If the boundary is hard to map, it will be hard to police. If rules look unfair, they won’t last. The best plan is clear enough to explain in a pub, and strong enough to protect the seabed in rough weather.
A strong candidate area usually has a mix of valuable habitats and real risk of damage. It should be big enough to function as an ecosystem, and simple enough to mark on charts.
Before final decisions, it helps to look for places with:
- seagrass, saltmarsh, kelp, or reefs that support wildlife and coastal stability
- spawning and nursery grounds for fish and shellfish
- seabird feeding areas and seal haul-out routes nearby
- current or likely pressure from seabed-disturbing activity
Once the science points to priority features, rules should match the problem. If seabed damage is the key threat, then the sanctuary should put strong limits on it, especially in core zones.
