He holds a PhD in Journalism from Belgium's Louvain University, but he works in the long-range fishing industry; he works in the fishing industry, but doesn't work on a fishing boat, instead flying 300 days out of the year. . . .

From Taiwan, one changes planes three times before arriving in Argentina's Puerto Madryn. Finally stepping into the small hotel next to the harbor, Chen Shu has a moment to sit down. He pulls a wallet out of his pocket and begins putting things in order.

A thick wad of cash is pulled out, money of all colors and kinds, from Australia, America, Mauritius, the Maldives, South Africa, Madagascar, Uruguay, Belize, Pakistan, the United Arab Emirates, Oman. . . cash in all denominations.

He is not collecting money; he uses these currencies all the time. That's because Chen is traveling the world, searching for fishing grounds and resolving problems for Taiwan's fishing boats.

A Journalism PhD goes to sea

In Taiwan's fishing industry, Chen Shu is a legendary figure.

From 1951 to 1955, his father was the general manager of the Kaoshiung Fisher-men's Association and his whole family has deep connections with the fishing industry. "In 1965, my father's Far East Shipping Co. was one of the two earliest long-range fishing boat agents in Taiwan. When fishing boats were seized by India or Indonesia, it was always us who went to get them released," says Chen.

Shortly after he graduated from university, his father died. Chen, duty-bound, returned home to take over the family business which he then ran for ten years. At the end of those ten years, Chen's younger brother had grown up. Chen then married No螔 Yiang Fon Lin , a woman who had, at the age of 22, received Belgium's National Piano Professor Diploma. After the marriage, he and his wife went back to Belgium together where his wife continued her studies. Chen also took advantage of this time to get a PhD in Journalism from Louvain University.

Later, his wife went to New York to develop her musical career, becoming a professional performer. She also founded the Queen's Music School, serving as its director. Chen, meanwhile, returned to Taiwan, looking for a way to apply what he had learned.

Based on his education, he had an opportunity to go to work for the Government Information Office, or he could have become a university professor. But then he considered that the lack of flexibility of a government or teaching career would make it difficult for him to look after his wife and daughter in New York. Also, many of the second generation of fishing industry people that he had grown up with had now taken over their family businesses. They told him, "You've been overseas so many years, can speak a lot of languages, and understand the fishing business. Fishing grounds are hard to find now. Why don't you just help us find fishing grounds overseas?"

"Becoming a fishing agent was equivalent to returning to the family business." Chen thought this might be a good thing. For 13 years, he'd left the business in the hands of his sister and her husband, so that he could be with his wife. Now it was time for him, the eldest, to take back the reins.

Bouncing around the globe, flying 300 days out of the year, doesn't suit most people, but for Chen, it's like water to a fish. He goes to sleep the moment he boards a plane, and when it lands, immediately heads to the harbor to work. Chen has never known "jet lag." Flying from Madagascar to Argentina, he might fly first to America, going home to New York for dinner with his family before continuing on his way.

"Running a fishing business requires a certain kind of luck," says Chen. He had his own ship, but never made any money with it. In 1972, he operated a trawler. "We caught a lot of fish, but there were a lot of problems." One minute, there was a problem with a machine. The next, the ship was seized by the mainland and impounded. One time, when the ship was returning to Suao for maintenance, the first mate ran it aground. And then, another time, they caught so many fish that the net was torn.

"I wasn't successful fishing, so I had to become a long-range fishing agent," says Chen. In his first year in the business, he decided to go to Pakistan, which has very good tuna fishing grounds. But Chen didn't know the local law. He bought a fishing ship, but then found that his license did not meet legal requirements, costing him a lot of money.

Madagascar's fishing grounds were the first he successfully opened up. Chen, who speaks French, knew no one when he got on a plane and flew there.

When the plane landed, he got a taxi and had the driver take him to the largest hotel in the capital.

"It really is a poor place. Getting into the taxi, I discovered, much to my surprise, that I was putting my feet onto steel cables. And next to the driver was an assistant who was there to wipe the windshield when it rained."

During the day, he rented a taxi to drive him for a look around, but he had no idea where to begin. In the evening, at the hotel, he ran into an overseas Chinese from Thailand who was in Madagascar to dig for gemstones. The two of them began talking. Chen said that he was involved in the fishing business and had gone there hoping to do some trade in marine products. The overseas Chinese told him that the sister-in-law of Madagascar's president was also in the fishing business and said he could introduce Chen to her.

Flying around the world

Just like that, he met the president's sister-in-law and was introduced to the Minister of fisheries and the president. Chen quickly made contact with Madagascar's network of "big fish," successfully concluded his talks on fisheries cooperation, and got his license.

After his success in Madagascar, he went back to Pakistan. After that came Oman and Argentina. "Originally, I didn't visit Argentina," Chen says. He explains that the FCF Co. had already set up operations in Argentina and everyone had been friends since his father's generation. He didn't want to come and steal their business. But among the squid ships that had come to Argentina, there were some minority partners of his. The ship owners were a little concerned about the method being used to rent ships and asked him to come take a look.

Chen has over 20 people working for him. Being the boss, why doesn't he just send his people? Why does he do this globe-trotting himself?

"When fishing ships are overseas, they get into all kinds of situations that it takes an old hand to resolve." He says with resignation that it costs US$3,000 per day for a ship to be in harbor; he can't help but acquiesce to ship owners' wishes and go himself. But in some places, where he knows people and is known, a phone call can clear things up.

Around the world, there are many countries that have fisheries cooperation agreements with Taiwan concerning the use of their marine economic zones. However, there are still many excellent fishing grounds, including those of Peru and Chile in the Southeast Pacific, West Africa's Sierra Leone and Ivory Coast, the Mediterranean, and those of the former Soviet Union, where there is no cooperation. Chen Shu still has a long way to fly.

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Since the declaration of maritime economic zones by countries all over the world, if Taiwan's long-range fishing ships are to "go out," they must rely on fishing industry agents to discuss fisheries cooperation with individual countries.

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Chen Shu has rented homes like this all over the world where he may temporarily dock himself during the fishing season. Just one or two weeks after opening the doors, he will lock them again and depart. He really is a modern nomad.

Chen Shu has rented homes like this all over the world where he may temporarily dock himself during the fishing season. Just one or two weeks after opening the doors, he will lock them again and depart. He really is a modern nomad.