More random thoughts...

Those of you who know me well know that I’m a vegetarian. More importantly, you know that seafood was the first meat I gave up specifically for enviro-political reasons. I won’t go into my tirade on the raping of the oceans by poor fishing practices, but an understanding of how I feel on the issue is important for this story. I guess just as important is my sensitivity towards killing or deliberately harming other living things. I realize that I kill corals in an effort to prevent their obliteration, and I have to make my amends for even doing that. Anyway, let me move on to the story at hand. I was preparing to snorkel out to my site in the channel the other day when a group of Fijian guys asked me to wait. They were in the first phase of an elaborate fishing scheme and didn’t want me to scare away the fish. I obliged and we talked for a little while. The three men were waiting on shore while two other men swam out to drape a net across the channel. When it was ready, the three men spread out at a distance and walked towards the net while yelling and slapping the water with large sticks. It was all very interesting to watch, but I had business to take care of. So once they were out of my way, I swam on to my site. In my naivete, I thought the fishing would end there. They would round the fish into the net, scoop them up and head back to shore. I was definitely not prepared for the bloody display that lay before me. After they rounded up the fish, they began beating them with the same sticks that they used to scare them into the net. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it also looked like they picked up a few of the fish and whacked them on the water. All I could imagine was the beautiful, terrified fish fleeing desperately and hitting nothing but net. That image, and the smell. I wasn’t prepared for the smell. It was a mixture of death and blood. I couldn’t take it. I finished what I was doing and swam as fast as I could back to shore. I made it back at the same time as the fishermen. They were so proud of their catch. They asked me to come look. I didn’t think I could. I pondered the idea for a moment and came to the conclusion that I NEEDED to look. I don’t believe that everyone should abstain from meat, or even seafood. But, I think people should understand how that fillet gets on their plate. I felt that by looking, I would see the fish as sustenance and not as the pretty jewels of the sea that I so admire. It did help. Not only was it interesting to view the fish, it was interesting to talk to the men about it. I admire these local fishermen because they eat everything that they catch. I mean EVERYTHING. They know what they’re eating and exactly what it took to get it. I had imagined a mass slaughter of 100’s of fish, but they had roughly 50. The parrotfish were gorgeous even in death, and there were a few tiny little disc shaped fish. I asked them what they were going to do with them; they said they’d fry them up and eat them whole. A puffer fish, filled with air, was rolling around in the breeze. I said, “and that?” The reply, “We’ll eat it too!” Then one of the men picked up the puffer by gouging out its eyes and using the sockets as a handle.
There are more fish in this section of Fiji than I’m used to seeing, and some large fish at that. But, I know that Fiji is feeling fishing pressure just like most oceanic countries. You can tell not only by the absence of large predators and the overabundance of algae, but also by the stories told by the older generation. What exists today is a poor representation of the abundance and diversity of just decades ago. The fishermen I witnessed only caught 50 fish, a drop in the ocean. But, day after day of fisherman after fisherman in village after village all catching 50 to 100 fish adds up to a lot. Add commercial fishing and other more destructive fishing practices by local fishermen, and a drop becomes a sea. It’s something to think about.