Wide Sargasso Sea

They can dive deeper than a nuclear submarine, make perilous journeys across the ocean not once, but twice in their lifetime and are trafficked in suitcases in their millions. Julia Platt Leonard learns more about the threats facing Anguilla anguilla

THERE is something mythical about the eel, as if it were an imaginary creature such as a unicorn or a griffin. It is literally—and figuratively—slippery, full of contradictions and mystery. For as much as we know about Anguilla anguilla—the European eel— there is far more that we don’t. If you should be standing on the banks of the River Severn one night when the moon peeks out from behind a bank of cloud and catch a glimpse of an eel slipping through the water, you’ll see how magical it can be.

The eel, with its distinctive, snake-like shape and fringe of fins, has been gliding through our waters for some 100 million years. Life begins thousands of miles away, in the Sargasso Sea, an area of the Atlantic Ocean as big as France, Germany and Britain combined. Billions and billions of eels are born there each year and begin the treacherous journey east, drifting along currents coming out of the Caribbean. They’re tiny, leaf-shaped creatures at this stage and only a fraction will survive the estimated two-year-long crossing.

If you glimpse an eel slipping through the water, you’ll see how magical it can be

Why does the eel undertake such a long migration? There are 16 eel species globally that have both an ocean and freshwater life, including the European eel, and each has its own equivalent of the Sargasso Sea. ‘The European eel makes much the longest journey,’ reveals Andrew Kerr, founder of the Sustainable Eel Group (SEG), a conservation organisation working to protect and accelerate the recovery of the European eel. ‘The reason is that Europe and North America have drifted apart, so this migration has become further and further.’