Anam Chowdhury: The captain who guides ships to their last shore

Out at sea, ships are rarely seen as mere machines. Sailors often speak of them as companions that endure storms, isolation and decades of global trade before reaching their final destination.

For thousands of ageing vessels, that last stop is a narrow strip of coastline in Sitakunda, on the outskirts of Chattogram, home to one of the world's largest ship-recycling hubs.

At the end of that journey stands Captain Anam Chowdhury, a 70-year-old pilot whose energy still rivals that of sailors half his age. Within the industry, some jokingly call him the executioner of ships. He prefers a different description.

"I don't end their lives," he says. "I give them a new one."

Where ships end their voyage

More than 90% of global trade moves by sea, carried by vessels designed to operate for roughly 20 to 30 years. When those ships reach the end of their service life, they must be dismantled rather than abandoned.

Each year, around 150 to 200 obsolete vessels arrive at Sitakunda's recycling yards. Once dismantled, their steel, machinery and reusable components feed Bangladesh's industrial supply chain, providing raw materials for factories across the country.

Before dismantling can begin, however, every ship must complete one final and highly risky passage from Chattogram Port's outer anchorage to a designated yard along the beach. That task falls to specialised marine pilots, and few have more experience than Captain Anam.

Over a 33-year career, he estimates he has handled nearly 4,000 vessels, possibly one of the highest totals worldwide in ship beaching operations. Despite that record, he shows little interest in international recognition.

"Beaching ships is not just my profession, it's my passion, I beach 100-130 ships a year" he said. "I am paid for the work, but what matters most is that the end-of-life ships I bring ashore begin a new journey contributing to my country's economy."

Riding the final voyage

Recently, The Business Standard accompanied Captain Anam during the last journey of MT Nila, a Liberian-flagged LNG tanker built in 1995, weighing about 27,000 tonnes and measuring 275 metres long and 44 metres wide. The vessel was headed for KR Ship Recycling Limited, one of Bangladesh's certified green yards.

The trip began by speedboat from Patenga Sea Beach toward the outer anchorage, about eight nautical miles offshore. Upon reaching the vessel, the 70-year-old pilot climbed a swaying rope ladder in barely two minutes, a climb that took considerably longer for others onboard.

Standing on the bridge as the tanker slowly approached shore, he explained why this stage is often the most dangerous in a ship's life.

"The structure weakens. Its strength may drop to nearly 60%," he said. "You are no longer navigating a healthy vessel. Every movement becomes an emergency manoeuvre. One wrong decision and you lose control."

For most captains, avoiding grounding is the fundamental rule of navigation. In ship recycling, the objective is reversed. The pilot must intentionally beach the vessel, calculating tide, wind and momentum so the ship settles precisely where dismantling crews can begin work safely.

"It's the opposite of everything we learn as captains," he said with a smile.

Leaving life at sea

Captain Anam began his maritime career in 1977, spending years aboard oil tankers. Like many seafarers, family responsibilities eventually reshaped his path.

"When my children were growing up and needed me at home, I realised I had to leave sea life," he recalled. "But shore-based opportunities were limited at that time."

"Beaching ships is not just my profession, it's my passion, I beach 100-130 ships a year. I am paid for the work, but what matters most is that the end-of-life ships I bring ashore begin a new journey contributing to my country's economy."

Captain Anam Chowdhury

He first worked as a marine surveyor before entering Bangladesh's emerging shipbreaking sector in the early 1990s, a period he describes as transformative. Recognising the technical demands of beaching operations, he trained under senior pioneers for nearly two years.

"This is specialised work," he said. "A regular captain cannot simply step in and do it."

A demanding profession

Ship beaching requires both physical endurance and constant mental calculation. Pilots often board vessels in rough seas, sometimes during monsoon conditions marked by strong winds and heavy rain.

"Many people cannot stay long in this profession," he said. "The pressure is enormous."

At one point, only three specialists carried out such operations in Bangladesh. Deaths and retirements gradually reduced their number. Today, only a handful remain active, while Captain Anam continues mentoring younger pilots to preserve the expertise.

"It's important that the industry continues after us," he said.

The economy behind dismantling

To outsiders, shipbreaking can appear destructive. Captain Anam sees it differently, as part of a circular economic process.

Steel plates become construction materials, cables are reused as electrical wiring, machinery parts find second lives, and recycled metals support manufacturing industries nationwide.

"Look around your home," he said. "Many everyday items come from recycled ships. That is where the satisfaction lies."

At full capacity, ship recycling yards directly employ more than 50,000 workers, while hundreds of thousands more depend on related downstream industries.

"It is one of Bangladesh's most labour-intensive sectors," he added.

A coastline shaped for ship recycling

Bangladesh's prominence in ship recycling is partly geographical. According to Captain Anam, the Sitakunda coastline offers rare natural conditions.

Within roughly 1,200 feet of shore, water depth gradually reduces to about 30 feet along a natural continental shelf. This allows large vessels to approach with controlled speed before grounding safely on the beach. Combined with favourable tidal patterns and coastal slope, the area forms a natural platform for beaching operations.

"You cannot find this combination everywhere," he said. "It's a natural blessing."

Death or transformation?

Despite the nickname sometimes attached to him, Captain Anam rejects the idea that he destroys ships.

Technology evolves rapidly, making older vessels obsolete long before they physically fail. Recycling gives them what he considers a dignified ending.

"A natural death gives nothing back," he said. "But these ships continue contributing to society even after their service ends."

He paused as waves struck the vessel's hull and workers prepared for dismantling.

"This is not destruction," he said quietly. "It is transformation."

For the thousands of ships he has guided ashore, the final voyage marks not an execution but a transition, from global trade routes to the foundations of a growing economy.

Industry recognition

Industry leaders say Captain Anam has helped shape modern ship beaching practices in Bangladesh for more than three decades. Alongside piloting, he serves as a technical adviser to the Bangladesh Ship Breakers and Recyclers Association (BSBRA).

Zahirul Islam Rinku, former vice-president of BSBRA and managing director of PHP Ship Recycling Industry, said he has watched Captain Anam at work since his childhood.

"My father always preferred Captain Anam to beach ships at our yard, and I do the same today because of his efficiency and precision," he said.

"He is most probably the only pilot in the world who beached around 4000 ships and his name should be on the Guinness World Records," Rinku noted. 

Taslim Uddin, managing director of KR Ship Recycling Yard, echoed the sentiment.

"Captain Anam is the first choice for almost every ship breaker. Only if his schedule is unavailable do we look for alternatives," he said, adding that the industry may face a significant gap once the veteran pilot retires.