By Marine Programme, WWF-Malaysia

Conservation crew spotted a shovelnose ray during an underwater survey in Tigabu, Sabah.  © Jürgen Freund / WWF

In the fading depths of Sabah’s seas, sharks have become more challenging to find while rays rise in their absence. Through underwater surveys, landing data, and community-led conservation, WWF-Malaysia uncovers a quiet crisis and a hopeful response.

If you ever find yourself on the coast of Tun Mustapha Park, Sabah, you might understand why people fall in love with the sea. Not just for its glow in the sunrise or the beating rhythm of life on the shores, but for the creatures found in the deep, some real, some almost mythical. Slender and swift, the milk shark moves like a silver thread through the reef, elusive and almost ethereal. The Spot-tail Shark, marked like a sigil from ancient tales of old, glides with quiet confidence, its presence felt more than seen. To witness these creatures is to witness timelessness, and though they are harder to find now, their story still lingers in the currents, waiting to be heard.

But lately, that voice has grown faint.

Below the shimmering sea, the sharks and rays that once traversed these waters aren’t making a dramatic exit; they’re becoming increasingly harder to find. If you want to understand what’s happening, you don’t start with a lecture. You start by listening. To the sea. To the fishers. To the footage. To the landings. Because somewhere in the quiet, the story is still unfolding.

A Whitetip Reef Sharks caught on camera-cruising through the reefs of Tun Mustapha Park
© Marine Programme / WWF-Malaysia

The seas may have once been extremely loud with life; now they seem incredibly close to silence.

We listen with cameras dropped into the deep. BRUVS—Baited Remote Underwater Video Surveys—sit quietly on the ocean floor, recording whatever curious creatures pass by the oily fish bait. Sharks, rays, turtles, and squid. Sometimes nothing at all. WWF-Malaysia has worked with Sabah Parks, Deakin University, Scuba Junkie, and the Banggi Corals Conservation Society (BCCS) to deploy BRUVS across Sabah’s waters. Over 500 hours of footage, reviewed frame by frame. It’s slow work. But it’s how we learn.

© Marine Programme / WWF-Malaysia (Picture on the left shows our marine staff taking water depth measurements prior to deploying our camera’s underwater; Picture on the right shows Baited Remote Underwater Video (BRUV) structure used in our surveys.)

Life jackets were briefly removed for mobility; they remain mandatory during travel and fieldwork.

A BRUVS unit is a simple yet ingenious setup: a metal or PVC frame, a GoPro camera, and an oily bait of crushed mackerel and sardines, in the hopes of attracting carnivorous fishes. Lowered gently to the sandy bottom—anywhere between five and thirty metres deep—it sits in silence, waiting. For about an hour or more, it records whatever life drifts into view before being pulled up. Sharks and rays are the stars of the show, but sea turtles, moray eels, and squid often make surprise appearances. It’s a non-invasive, cost-effective way to understand what species are out there and how many still call these waters home.

These surveys are conducted with support from Sabah Parks and the Department of Fisheries Sabah, ensuring that every dive and every deployment respect local regulation and conservation standards. In Kudat, surveys are led by WWF-Malaysia with scientific oversight and support from Deakin University and on-the-ground expertise from the Banggi Corals Conservation Society.

WWF-Malaysia with Sabah Parks, Deakin University, Scuba Junkie, and Banggi Corals Conservation Society (BCCS) in deploying BRUVS across Sabah’s waters.
© Marine Programme / WWF-Malaysia

But the real work begins after the cameras resurface.

With over 200 videos and an estimated 500 hours of underwater footage, the conservation team combs through each clip—twice. That’s more than 1000 hours of careful observation, identifying every shark, ray, and marine megafauna one frame at a time. It’s meticulous. It’s exhausting. It’s a bit like playing “Where’s Waldo?” except Waldo is a juvenile blacktip reef shark, and he might only appear for three seconds in an hour-long video, drifting through a flickering curtain of light and coral shadows. Miss that moment, and you miss the data. So, the team watches, rewinds, and replays because every second might hold the answer to what’s left in the sea. That is, if they ever resurface. There have been instances where the very contraptions lowered into the depths vanished, swept away by the ocean’s mysteries. Sometimes, the sea keeps its secrets.

In 2025, we entered Phase 2 of the Global FinPrint survey, the world’s largest reef shark and ray study. The main question we have: How are sharks and rays doing in Marine Protected Areas? What can we do to enhance its protection to safeguard its critical habitats?

The first phase gave us a sobering baseline. Malaysia had one of the lowest numbers of reef predators recorded in the region, with some sites like Mabul and Kapalai Island, Sabah, showing no sharks at all. In contrast, rays were more frequently seen, especially in areas with fewer predators, suggesting a disrupted ecological balance.

The trend isn’t new. A 2021 global reassessment of the IUCN Red List found that over one-third of all sharks and rays are now at risk of extinction. In Malaysia, the number of threatened sharks and rays has doubled since 2014, while endangered and critically endangered sharks and rays species have more than tripled. We are not just in a biodiversity hotspot—we are in the region where that same biodiversity is at risk.

Our BRUVS footage only shows us what’s alive, and as for sharks and rays, their stories do not end in the deep blue.

At fish markets and landing sites across Kota Kinabalu and Sandakan, Sabah, WWF-Malaysia and Universiti Malaysia Sabah counted, measured, and recorded every shark and ray brought ashore. This research was approved and supported by the Department of Fisheries Sabah, and between November 2023 and December 2024, over 1,748 sharks and 2,890 rays were recorded, representing 34 and 45 species, respectively. Early analyses show that at least 80% of sharks and 93% of rays captured were immature, caught before they could reproduce. This is particularly concerning as these animals take 12–15 years to reach reproductive age, meaning every early death is a significant blow to their populations. Furthermore, some species never appeared in BRUVS footage but showed up in catches. That’s not just overfishing. That’s erasure.

WWF-Malaysia team in Sandakan catch landing port – measuring juvenile whitespotted whiprays individuals ©  Mazidi Abd Ghani / WWF-Malaysia

A group of juvenile Scalloped Hammerhead Sharks commonly observed in our catch landing survey. ©  Mazidi Abd Ghani / WWF-Malaysia

“After thousands of minutes reviewing BRUVS footage, it’s disheartening to find the very species we hoped to observe already landed and lifeless. When our team visited landing sites and conducted our surveys, we discovered that many of these sharks and rays were still premature. That’s why we’re working closely with coastal communities—not just to monitor incidental catches but to build awareness, buy-in, and capacity for live release of juveniles.” said Serena Adam, Senior Marine Programme Officer, WWF-Malaysia. 

Whitetip Reef Shark (Triaenodon obesus) on the reef floor. Sipadan Island, Sabah, Malaysia. © Jürgen Freund / WWF

The creatures we’re losing are not monsters but rather marvels.

Sharks and rays are keystone species. They regulate prey populations, stir up sediments, and cycle nutrients. They keep ecosystems balanced. Imagine a healthy ocean like a game of Jenga. Each block is a species or process. Sharks and rays are some of the key blocks. Remove too many, and the whole thing collapses.

The whitetip reef shark rests in coral caves, one of the few sharks that can lie still and pump water through their mouth and gills to breathe. It slips into narrow crevices to hunt with quiet precision, using its slender body like a key to unlock hidden corners of the reef. The Grey Reef Shark, bold and territorial, performs a threat display that feels almost ritualistic. It arches its back, lowers its fins, and circles with intent, a gesture refined by generations of survival. The whale shark, vast and gentle, glides through the blue with constellations on its skin. Its presence feels more like legend than fact, a living relic of the deep.

These aren’t just fish. They are not just survivors; they are sculpted by the deep, by epochs of silence and salt. Sharks and rays have endured what few creatures could: mass extinctions, shifting continents, and collapsing ecosystems.

Over 400 million years, these creatures evolved into forms that defy simplicity. Some glide like ghosts over coral beds; others lurk in the abyss where sunlight never reaches. Their bodies are tuned to the rhythm of the ocean, streamlined, sensitive, and strangely elegant. They thrive in places most life avoids—volcanic vents, deep trenches, and turbulent reefs. And in every fin, every flick of a tail, there’s a story written in ancient code, one of resilience, adaptation, and quiet brilliance.

Back on the surface, in Tun Mustapha Park, fishers of Kampung Inaruntung and Kampung Perpaduan are doing something extraordinary.

Release trial begins as 13 fishers volunteer to return juvenile sharks and rays to the sea.
© Norsheranesah Abdul Mutalib / WWF-Malaysia

They’re not abandoning tradition; they’re evolving it. Through a recent pilot programme led by WWF-Malaysia, 13 fishers volunteered to release juvenile sharks and rays caught alive. They received training, safety gear, and support from their communities. Local enumerators monitored the releases. Videos were shared on social media. The ocean watched. And responded.

From these live-release efforts, early analyses show a promising start. Of the 49 sharks and rays recorded by our fishers, 61% were landed alive and were successfully released back into the sea. These included carpet sharks such as Bamboo Sharks and Catsharks, large stingrays like Whitespotted and Jenkins’ Whiprays, as well as smaller stingray species. Each release is more than a statistic; it’s a lifeline for species that reproduce slowly and are highly vulnerable to overfishing.

Among these fishers is Pak Cik Ali, where “Pak Cik” is a respectful Malay term for an elder—a lifelong son of the tides from Kampung Perpaduan. His boat, handmade, weathered, and salt-worn, is more than a vessel; it’s a legacy. Built with care and shaped by years of experience, it glides across Kudat’s restless surf like it knows the way home. On rare calm mornings, he sets out before sunrise, the horizon stretching wide and golden, a fleeting reward for those who know both the sea’s fury and its quiet beauty.

Pak Cik Ali doesn’t speak in grand declarations. He speaks through action. He was one of the first to volunteer for the safe release programme, not because it was easy, but because it felt right. He’s seen the changes in the sea. Fewer sharks. Smaller rays. Nets that come back heavier with silence than with fish. And so, when the opportunity came to protect what remained, he didn’t hesitate.

Pak Cik Ali casts his net as the sun dips below the horizon on the waters of Kudat
© Chin Nurhiqwanalina / WWF-Malaysia

“If we can do it, then we can do anything—and even better,” he said, smiling beneath a sun-faded cap. It wasn’t just optimism. It was belief. In the sea. In the community. In the idea that conservation doesn’t have to mean sacrifice, it can mean stewardship.

This isn’t a top-down directive. It’s a locally driven solution.

The fishers of Kudat didn’t need convincing; they needed collaboration. Now, other villages like Kampung Parapat Laut and Kampung Malubang have expressed interest in joining the effort. The vision is clear: a thriving Tun Mustapha Park, where sustainable fisheries support both biodiversity and community well-being.

To make that vision a reality, partnerships must go beyond awareness—they must be practical and inclusive. 

“We engage coastal communities not only to raise awareness but to truly listen. Our officers sit with fishers in focus group discussions, hearing firsthand how shark and ray populations have changed over the years. These lived experiences are invaluable. By placing trained enumerators within villages, we’re not just gathering data—we’re building trust and empowering communities with knowledge that strengthens conservation from the ground up,” said Chitra Devi, Head of Marine, WWF-Malaysia.

This kind of collaboration is already taking root. From pilot programmes that support the safe release of juvenile sharks and rays to community-led monitoring, the people of Kudat are showing that conservation doesn’t have to mean sacrifice—it can mean stewardship.

For us, the ocean still speaks.

Through every released ray, every saved shark, and every fisher who chooses stewardship over silence. You can be part of this story. Support community-led conservation, pass on this message, and help us protect Malaysia’s reef predators before their silence becomes permanent.

Choose wisely. While sharks and rays have long been part of cultural traditions, their survival now depends on our joint awareness and responsibility. Avoid consuming sharks and rays. Support sustainable practices. Let tradition evolve with stewardship.

- ENDS -

About WWF-Malaysia

World Wide Fund for Nature Malaysia (WWF-Malaysia) was established in 1972 and is part of World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), the international conservation organisation. Working to sustain the natural world for the benefit of people and nature, WWF-Malaysia’s efforts to conserve nature focus on six major themes: forests, oceans, wildlife, food, climate and energy, as well as freshwater. Our mission is to stop the degradation of the earth’s natural environment and to build a future in which humans live in harmony with nature.

Find our latest news here: https://www.wwf.org.my/media_and_information/media_centre_and_updates/

Note to the media:

1) All quotes are to be attributed to the designated persons quoted in this media release.

2) Should you need more information, please see the details below:

• Justice Khor (Communications Lead, Marine Programme, WWF-Malaysia)  

  • Tel: + 603-7450 3773, Email: jkhor@wwf.org.my

• Justin Ang (Senior Communications Manager, WWF-Malaysia)

  • Tel: + 603-7450 3773, Email: justinang@wwf.org.my