Yangtze River’s Revival: Fish Species Jump 67 as Ban Brings Waters Back to Life

Chongqing  – The Yangtze River is teeming with life again. Five years after a landmark fishing ban took effect, monitoring shows a remarkable recovery: 67 additional fish species now swim in the Chongqing section of the river trunk, while rare natives like the Yangtze sturgeon and Chinese suckerfish are being spotted with growing regularity.

Chinese suckerfish. (Photo/Zhao Weiping)

The news, announced at a recent enforcement meeting in Chongqing, highlights a broader ecological turnaround. The river's aquatic biological health score has jumped two full levels – concrete proof that the mother river is reclaiming her vitality.

So how did "fish gliding in clear shallow waters" return from memory to reality? The answers lie with the people who know the river best.

From River Takers to River Keepers

On a rain-swept October morning along the Longxi River, Li Daiguo scans the banks with a practiced eye. "You'd be surprised," he remarks. "Serious anglers don't mind the weather." While illegal fishing has dropped, his patrols remain vigilant.

Li represents a new generation of river guardians. In 2021, he turned in his fishing license for a compensation package and joined the local river protection team. Now, instead of harvesting the river, he cleans it and guards its inhabitants.

Conduct joint law enforcement operations to crack down on illegal fishing activities. (Photo/Zhao Weiping)

He grew up here, and his family's fishing legacy has been passed down through generations. "When I was a boy, this water was clear and full of fish," he recalls. You could find all kinds of rare species."

That abundance didn't last. By the 1990s, factories and expanding towns choked the Longxi with pollution and runoff. The water turned foul, and the fish vanished. "There were days we'd cast our nets ten times and catch nothing," Li admits. "It was heartbreaking."

The cleanup began in 2016. Officials shuttered riverside factories, upgraded wastewater systems, and launched a cross-jurisdictional conservation program. Slowly, the river healed. Fish began returning, but the blanket fishing ban arrived just as Li's nets grew heavy again.

"At 58, I thought my life on the water was over," he says. But authorities offered a solution: "You know these waters. Work with us to protect them." Today, Li is among thousands of former fishers now patrolling the same rivers they once worked, their expertise repurposed for preservation.

A Digital Net: Tech Boosts Enforcement

"Alert: Anglers detected in the Yudaishan river section." The notification flashes at the Shima River command center.

Within moments, patrol leader Zhu Yuchuan deploys his key tool: a compact infrared drone. It zips across the river, confirming multiple fishing rods – a violation. In just ten minutes, Zhu's team reaches the scene and resolves the case.

Law enforcement officers are patrolling in Jiangbei to inspect illegal fishing activities. (Photo/Zhao Weiping)

This new efficiency comes from Chongqing's "Yangtze River Fishing Management" digital platform. The system's secret lies in a network of over 1,200 smart cameras watching the riverbank.

"These aren't ordinary cameras," explains a municipal law enforcement official. They see through darkness, fog, and rain, while AI algorithms spot potential violations with 99% accuracy.

When it detects suspicious activity, the system automatically alerts the nearest patrol officer with a 10-second video clip. If they don't respond within five minutes, the system escalates the alert. "It creates a tight net," the official says. Violators have nowhere to hide."

Beauty Contest for Fish: Saving the Chinese Suckerfish

At the Wanzhou Aquatic Research Institute, the next generation of Chinese suckerfish glide like living embers in their ponds. Their distinctive rouge hue makes them some of the Yangtze's most striking natives.

Wang Fei, head of the research team, watches over them like a proud parent. "These are the legacy of our original broodstock," he says, noting that about 100 have reached adulthood. "Every egg and sperm sample we use for breeding comes from this family."

The institute's success is staggering: from near extinction in the 1970s to producing 5 million suckerfish fry annually today. But getting here required patience – these fish need over a decade to reach prime breeding age.

That long timeline makes their "beauty contests" crucial. Each year, researchers select the most promising fry—about 100,000 fish—for special rearing. Three years later, they choose the top 1% for wild acclimatization. Finally, after reaching maturity, just another 1%—the strongest and healthiest—return to the institute as elite broodstock.

These chosen fish enjoy VIP treatment: spacious ponds and premium feed that costs more than ordinary rice. Each carries a tiny internal ID tag, allowing researchers to track their lineage. "We're building the genetic future of the species," Wang says.

Looking at the vibrant red fish circling below, he adds, "In a few more years, this next generation will secure the suckerfish's place in the Yangtze for good."