BOOSAASO, Somalia — This may be one of the most dangerous towns in Somalia, a place where you can get kidnapped faster than you can wipe the sweat off your brow. But it is also one of the most prosperous.

Money changers walk around with thick wads of hundred-dollar bills. Palatial new houses are rising up next to tin-roofed shanties. Men in jail reminisce, with a twinkle in their eyes, about their days living like kings.

This is the story of Somalia’s booming, not-so-underground pirate economy. The country is in chaos, countless children are starving and people are killing one another in the streets of Mogadishu, the capital, for a handful of grain.

But one particular line of work — piracy — seems to be benefiting quite openly from all this lawlessness and desperation. This year, Somali officials say, pirate profits are on track to reach a record $50 million, all of it tax free.

“These guys are making a killing,” said Mohamud Muse Hirsi, the top Somali official in Boosaaso, who himself is widely suspected of working with the pirates, though he vigorously denies it.

More than 75 vessels have been attacked this year, far more than any other year in recent memory. About a dozen have been set upon in the past month alone, including a Ukrainian freighter packed with tanks, antiaircraft guns and other heavy weaponry, which was brazenly seized in September.

The pirates use fast-moving skiffs to pull alongside their prey and scamper on board with ladders or sometimes even rusty grappling hooks. Once on deck, they hold the crew at gunpoint until a ransom is paid, usually $1 million to $2 million. Negotiations for the Ukrainian freighter are still going on, and it is likely that because of all the publicity, the price for the ship could top $5 million.

In Somalia, it seems, crime does pay. Actually, it is one of the few industries that does.

“All you need is three guys and a little boat, and the next day you’re millionaires,” said Abdullahi Omar Qawden, a former captain in Somalia’s long-defunct navy.

People in Garoowe, a town south of Boosaaso, describe a certain high-rolling pirate swagger. Flush with cash, the pirates drive the biggest cars, run many of the town’s businesses — like hotels — and throw the best parties, residents say. Fatuma Abdul Kadir said she went to a pirate wedding in July that lasted two days, with nonstop dancing and goat meat, and a band flown in from neighboring Djibouti.

“It was wonderful,” said Ms. Fatuma, 21. “I’m now dating a pirate.”

This is too much for many Somali men to resist, and criminals from all across this bullet-pocked land are now flocking to Boosaaso and other notorious pirate dens along the craggy Somali shore. They have turned these waters into the most dangerous shipping lanes in the world.

With the situation clearly out of control, warships from the United States, Russia, NATO, the European Union and India are steaming into Somalia’s waters as part of a reinvigorated, worldwide effort to crush the pirates.

But it will not be easy. The pirates are sea savvy. They are fearless. They are rich and getting richer, with the latest high-tech gadgetry like handheld GPS units. And they are united. The immutable clan lines that have pitted Somalis against one another for decades are not a problem here. Several captured pirates interviewed in Boosaaso’s main jail said that they had recently crossed clan lines to open new, lucrative, multiclan franchises.

“We work together,” said Jama Abdullahi, a jailed pirate. “Good for business, you know?”

The pirates are also sprinkled across thousands of square miles of water, from the Gulf of Aden, at the narrow doorway to the Red Sea, to the Kenyan border along the Indian Ocean. Even if the naval ships manage to catch pirates in the act, it is not clear what they can do. In September, a Danish warship captured 10 men suspected of being pirates cruising around the Gulf of Aden with rocket-propelled grenades and a long ladder. But after holding the suspects for nearly a week, the Danes concluded that they did not have jurisdiction to prosecute, so they dumped the pirates on a beach, minus their guns.

Nobody, it seems, has a clear plan for how to tame Somalia’s unruly seas. Several fishermen along the Gulf of Aden talked about seeing barrels of toxic waste bobbing in the middle of the ocean. They spoke of clouds of dead fish floating nearby and rogue fishing trawlers sucking up not just fish and lobsters but also the coral and the plants that sustain them. It was abuses like these, several men said, that turned them from fishermen into pirates.

Nor is it even clear whether Somali authorities universally want the piracy to stop. While many pirates have been arrested, several fishermen, Western researchers and more than a half-dozen pirates in jail spoke of nefarious relationships among fishing companies, private security contractors and Somali government officials, especially those working for the semiautonomous regional government of Puntland.

“Believe me, a lot of our money has gone straight into the government’s pockets,” said Farah Ismail Eid, a pirate who was captured in nearby Berbera and sentenced to 15 years in jail. His pirate team, he said, typically divided up the loot this way: 20 percent for their bosses, 20 percent for future missions (to cover essentials like guns, fuel and cigarettes), 30 percent for the gunmen on the ship and 30 percent for government officials.

Abdi Waheed Johar, the director general of the fisheries and ports ministry of Puntland, openly acknowledged in an interview this spring that “there are government people working with the pirates.”

But, he was quick to add, “It’s just not us.”

What is happening off Somalia’s shores is basically an extension of the corrupt, violent free-for-all that has raged on land for 17 years since the central government imploded in 1991. The vast majority of Somalis lose out. Young thugs who are willing to serve as muscle get a job, albeit a low-paying one, that significantly reduces their life expectancy. And a select few warlords, who have sat down and figured out how to profit off the anarchy, make a fortune.

Take Boosaaso, once a thriving port town on the Gulf of Aden. Piracy is killing off the remains of the local fishing industry because export companies are staying away. It has spawned a kidnapping business on shore, which in turn has scared away many humanitarian agencies and the food, medicine and other forms of desperately needed assistance they bring. Reporting in Boosaaso two weeks ago required no fewer than 10 hired gunmen provided by the Puntland government to discourage any would-be kidnappers.

Few large cargo ships come here anymore, depriving legitimate government operations of much-needed port taxes. Just about the only ships willing to risk the voyage are small, wooden, putt-putt freighters from India, essentially floating jalopies from another era.

“We can’t survive off this,” said Bile Qabowsade, a Puntland official.

The shipping problems have contributed to food shortages, skyrocketing inflation and less work for the sinewy stevedores who trudge out to Boosaaso’s beach every morning and stare in vain at the bright horizon, their bare feet planted in the hot sand, hoping a ship will materialize so they will be able to make a few pennies hauling 100-pound sacks of sugar on their backs.

And yet, suspiciously, there has been a lot of new construction in Boosaaso. There is an emerging section of town called New Boosaaso with huge homes rising above the bubble-shaped huts of refugees and the iron-sided shacks that many fishermen call home. These new houses cost several hundred thousand dollars. Many are painted in garish colors and protected by high walls.

Even so, Boosaaso is still a crumbling, broke, rough-and-tumble place, decaying after years of neglect like so much of war-ravaged Somalia. It is also dangerous in countless ways. On Wednesday, suicide bombers blew up two government offices, most likely the work of Islamist radicals trying to turn Somalia into an Islamist state.

Of course, no Somali government official would openly admit that New Boosaaso’s minicastles were built with pirate proceeds. But many people, including United Nations officials and Western diplomats, suspect that is the case.

Several jailed pirates have accused Mr. Muse, a former warlord who is now Puntland’s president, of being paid off. Officials in neighboring Somaliland, a breakaway region of northwestern Somalia, said they recently organized an antipiracy sting operation and arrested Mr. Muse’s nephew, who was carrying $22,000 in cash.

“Top Puntland officials benefit from piracy, even if they might not be instigating it,” said Roger Middleton, a researcher at the Royal Institute of International Affairs in London. Actually, he added, “all significant political actors in Somalia are likely benefiting from piracy.”

But Mr. Muse said he did not know anything about this. “We are the leaders of this country,” he said. “Everybody we suspect, we fire from work.”

He said that Puntland was taking aggressive action against the pirates. And Boosaaso’s main jail may be proof of that. The other day, a dozen pirates were hanging out in the yard under a basketball hoop. And that was just the beginning.

“Pirates, pirates, pirates,” said Gure Ahmed, a Canadian-Somali inmate of the jail, charged with murder. “This jail is full of pirates. This whole city is pirates.”

In other well-known pirate dens, like Garoowe, Eyl, Hobyo and Xarardheere, pirates have become local celebrities.

Said Farah, 32, a shopkeeper in Garoowe, said the pirates seemed to have money to burn.

“If they see a good car that a guy is driving,” he said, “they say, ‘How much? If it’s 30 grand, take 40 and give me the key.’ ”

Every time a seized ship tosses its anchor, it means a pirate shopping spree. Sheep, goats, water, fuel, rice, spaghetti, milk and cigarettes — the pirates buy all of this, in large quantities, from small towns up and down the Somali coast. Somalia’s seafaring thieves are not like the Barbary pirates, who terrorized European coastal towns hundreds of years ago and often turned their hostages into galley slaves chained to the oars. Somali pirates are known as relatively decent hosts, usually not beating their hostages and keeping them well-fed until payday comes.

“They are normal people,” said Mr. Said. “Just very, very rich.”

Mohammed Ibrahim contributed reporting from Mogadishu, Somalia.

布萨阿索，索马里 —— 这个地方也许是索马里最危险的小镇之一，可能要不了擦把汗的工夫，你已经被绑为肉票了。但是这里也是该国最繁荣的小镇之一。

兑换外汇的黄牛们带着一打打厚厚的百元美钞走来走去。锡皮屋顶的棚屋旁，富丽堂皇的崭新别墅正在拔地而起。身陷牢狱的男人向我追叙往事，眼中闪着光，他们曾像国王一样阔绰地生活过。

这是一个关于索马里那欣欣向荣、半地下半公开的海盗行业的故事。在这个深陷动荡的国家，无数儿童在忍饥挨饿，首都摩加迪沙的人们为了一点谷物当街杀人。

但有一种工作正公然受益于这种无法无天和令人绝望的境况——那就是海盗。索马里官员表示，今年海盗们的收入将达到创纪录的5000万美元，而且，这全是免税的。

“这些家伙可挣得不少呢，”布萨阿索镇的最高政府官员穆罕默德·穆瑟·海尔斯说道。他矢口否认了当地广为流传的他本人也为海盗工作的说法。

今年共有75艘船只遭到海盗的侵袭，数量超过最近的任何一年。仅仅上个月就有约12艘船只遭袭，包括一艘满载坦克、高射炮和其他重型武器的乌克兰货船也于九月份被胆大的海盗劫持。

海盗们通常驾驶机动性很强的快艇迅速接近目标，利用梯子——有时后甚至用锈迹斑斑的锚钩——爬上甲板。登船之后，他们就将船员劫为人质，直到得到赎金为止，赎金常常达100万到200万美元。关于这艘乌克兰货船的谈判还在进行当中，由于此事受到了媒体的广泛关注，赎回该船可能需要超过500万美元。

看起来在索马里，犯罪确实回报颇丰。实际上，这里有所回报的行业屈指可数。

“带上三个人和一条小艇，第二天你就是百万富翁了，”艾卜拉希·奥马尔·考登说。他曾在索马里荒废已久的海军中担任过舰长。

在布萨阿索南边的加鲁威镇，人们总是说起海盗们如何招摇地一掷万金。居民们说他们富得流油，驾驶最宽敞的汽车，经营镇上的许多产业——比如旅馆——还时常举行顶级奢华的派对。法图玛·阿卜杜尔·卡迪尔说起她六月份参加过的一个海盗的婚礼，整整两天时间里，舞会和羊肉都不曾停止，从邻近的吉布提（译注：位于非洲东北部索马里半岛的国家，与索马里接壤）请来的乐队为人们演奏助兴。

“那次婚礼实在棒极了，” 21岁的法图玛说，“现在我正在和一个海盗约会。”

这种诱惑对于许多索马里男子来说确实难以抗拒，现在这片满目疮痍的土地上的罪犯都云集在布萨阿索和索马里沿岸其他声名远扬的海盗巢穴。他们已经把这片水域变成世界上最危险的海上航线。

随着局势已明显失去控制，美国、俄罗斯、北约、欧盟和印度都已经派军舰前往索马里海域，作为全球范围内兴起的消灭海盗行动的一部分。

但是这可不是件容易的事。海盗们久经风浪，无所畏惧，手中有钱而且钱越来越多，拥有最新的高科技装备，如手持GPS定位系统等。更何况他们团结一致。在这一行里，长期导致索马里人内斗的无所不在的家族界限并未成为问题。在采访中，布萨阿索主要监狱中关押的几名海盗都表示，海盗近来已经跨越家族鸿沟，组成了新的、更有钱途的跨家族海盗集团。

“我们紧密合作，”服刑中的海盗贾马·阿卜杜拉希说。“这对生意有好处，你知道吧？”

海盗们出没的海域也绵延数千平方英里，从红海狭小门户的亚丁湾到濒临印度洋的肯尼亚海岸。就算各国军舰能在海上捉住他们，他们能做些什么也还不清不楚。九月份，一艘丹麦军舰捉住了10名带着火箭筒和一架长梯在亚丁湾海域游弋的男子，怀疑他们就是海盗。但是在将嫌犯关了近一个礼拜之后，丹麦人得出的结论是自己没有起诉这些人的司法权，于是他们没收了海盗的武器，把海盗丢到一处海岸上离开了。

目前看来，还没有人能拿出一套平靖索马里多事海域的明确方案。几个亚丁湾一带的渔民说曾在海水中看到成桶的有毒废料，他们还说起附近海面浮起大片死鱼，非法的捕鱼拖船不仅捞起大量鱼虾还捞走鱼虾赖以生存的珊瑚和海底植物。有人说，就是因为人们对海洋这么胡来，才让他们从渔民变成了海盗。

更不清不楚的是索马里政府是否真的希望消灭海盗。虽然很多海盗被捕，一些渔民、西方研究者和我采访的超过六名狱中海盗都说到渔业公司、私人保安服务商以及索马里官员——尤其是半自治的庞特兰地区的政府官员——同海盗之间的肮脏交易。

“请相信我，我们的钱有非常多都跑到政府口袋里去了，”法拉·伊斯梅尔·艾德说。他是一名海盗，在邻近的伯贝拉地区被捕入狱，被判处15年徒刑。据他说，他的海盗团伙是这么分赃的：百分之二十归首领，百分之二十作为未来的活动经费（购买枪支、燃料和香烟等必需品），百分之三十归登船的持枪海盗，百分之三十进贡给政府官员。

阿布迪·瓦希德·乔哈尔是庞特兰地区的渔业与港口事务首席官员，他在今年春天的一次采访中曾公开承认“有些政府工作人员在为海盗效力”。

不过他很快补充说：“当然不是我们。”

在索马里海域上发生的一切只是这个国家自1991年中央政府垮台之后17年来滋生于其国土上的腐败和无尽暴力的延续而已。大多数索马里人没有工作。愿意充当打手的年轻人才能得到一份工作，但是收入微薄，这大大降低了他们对生活的预期。而一些地方军阀看到了利用这种无政府状态谋取暴利的机会，于是发家致富。

拿布萨阿索来说，这里曾经是亚丁湾上一个欣欣向荣的港口小镇。日益猖獗的海盗导致当地渔业日渐萎靡，因为出口公司都躲得远远的。由此也催生出陆地上的新行当——绑票，而这又接着吓跑了人道主义援助机构以及他们带来的食物、药品和其它这里急需的物资。两周前，在布萨阿索进行报道需要雇佣至少10名庞特兰政府提供的荷枪实弹的保镖才能吓阻潜在的绑架者。

很少再有大型货船前来此地停留，于是当地政府就收不到十分重要的港口税收。愿意来此地冒险的大都是来自印度的轻型木制小货船，这些船基本上都是些老掉牙的陈年古董。

一位名叫拜尔·卡包萨德的庞特兰官员说：“靠这个我们没法活下去。”

航运业萧条加重了食品短缺、通货膨胀，也意味着码头工人找不到活干。这些体格结实的工人每天早上徘徊在布萨阿索海滨，时常失神地注视明亮的地平线，他们赤脚站在灼热的沙子上，盼望能有一艘船出现在天边，这样就能扛上一天100磅一麻袋的砂糖，换取几个铜板。

然而令人生疑的是，布萨阿索出现了很多新建筑。镇上有一片正在兴建的区域名叫新布萨阿索，在一片泡沫形状的难民棚屋和很多渔民称之为“家”的铁皮小屋中间，宽敞阔绰的新住宅正在拔地而起。这些崭新的住宅动辄价值几十万美元，很多都漆成了亮丽的颜色，高高的围墙保护着它们。

即便如此，布萨阿索依然是一个日益破碎、濒临破产、粗陋衰败的地方，就和饱经战乱的索马里一样被世人年复一年地遗忘。它也充满了危险，不论你从什么角度来考虑。星期三，几个自杀炸弹袭击者炸飞了两处政府机构，很可能是那些想把索马里变成伊斯兰国家的伊斯兰激进分子所为。

当然，没有政府官员会公开承认新布萨阿索的迷你城堡是用与海盗有关的收益建造的。但是很多人，包括联合国官员和西方外交官，都怀疑这才是事实。

几名狱中的海盗说穆瑟先生——这位过去的军阀现在是庞特兰地区主席——被海盗收买了。索马里西北部紧邻布萨阿索的索马里兰地区的官员声称，他们最近组织了一次反海盗行动并逮捕了穆瑟先生的侄子，当时在他身上搜到2万2千美元现钞。

“即使庞特兰的高级官员可能没有鼓励海盗行径，但是他们都在从中获利，”伦敦皇家国际事务学院的研究者罗杰·米德尔顿说。他还说：“在索马里，所有重要的政治人物很可能都受益于海盗。”

但是穆瑟先生表示他与海盗完全无关。“我们是这个国家的领导者，”他说道。“被我们怀疑的每一个人都被开除了出去。”他说庞特兰正在采取积极举措遏制海盗。布萨阿索的主要监狱可能就是这些举措的证据，前几天，几名海盗被绞死在监狱院子中的篮球架下。而这仅仅是个开始。

“海盗海盗海盗，这座监狱里全是海盗，整个城市都是海盗。” 关押在这里的一名被控谋杀的加拿大裔索马里人古尔·阿麦德如是说。

在其他远近闻名的海盗窝点，比如加鲁威、伊尔和沙拉德西尔，海盗已经成了当地的名人。

32岁的萨伊德·法拉是加鲁威的一个商店老板，他说海盗似乎钱多得花不完。

他说：“要是他们看到一个人开了辆好车，他们会说，‘这车值多少？要是值三万，这儿有四万，把钥匙给我。’ ”

每当一艘被劫持的船在岸边抛锚，海盗们的购物狂欢就开始了。绵羊、山羊、水、燃料、大米、意大利面、牛奶和香烟——海盗们光顾索马里海岸的各个小镇，什么都买，而且一买就是一大堆。索马里的海上盗贼可不像几百年前威胁欧洲海岸的那些北非海盗——他们常常把人质锁在船桨上作为奴隶驱使——索马里海盗以相对“好客”而闻名，他们通常不会殴打人质，而且让人质吃的不错，直到收到赎金的那一天。

“他们只是些普通人，”萨伊德先生说，“只是非常、非常富有。”

索马里摩加迪沙的穆罕默德·易卜拉欣对此报道亦有贡献。