Fisher Ilisoni Duruwaqa, 57, is sombre as he explains a tradition in the village of Malaka in Vanuabalavu, in Northern Lau, where the prized fish from a catch were always brought to the chief’s household.
The fisher says this tradition was practised for generations. The two fish brought to the chief were varivoce, known in English as humphead wrasse, and kalia, known as bumphead wrasse.
Whenever fishers in his village caught those two fish, they would take them down to Mualevu Village, on the other side of the island, where they would be given to the sau kei mualevu, the local title for the chief.
“I watched and learnt this from my father. Two men carry a pole on their shoulders with that big fish dangling from it.
“They would have to carry it from our village, which is on one side of the island to the other side to reach Mualevu Village,” said Ilisoni.
“There were no trucks to carry it and we had to walk more that 2km to reach the chief’s house.”
“When we arrived at the chief’s house, he would thank us by sending us back to our village with a tabua. And at times when he wanted to eat fish, he would send word and we would bring it to him,” he said.
This tradition between the villages is part of the way of life of Vanuabalavu.
And the tradition is gone.
“Because life is hard and there is no fish like that to take to him anymore,” he said.
As the world celebrates World Ocean Day, and the global efforts to promote sustainable ocean management, Ilisoni’s story reminds us what all these efforts are all about: protecting our way of life in Fiji.
Dreams of being a master fisher
Ilisoni left school at the age of 11 to pursue his dreams of being a successful fisher.
When he first started diving, night diving was unheard of as they only used goggles and mataidua, which is single-pronged spear made from old digging forks with a log wooden handle.
He first started diving using the metal parts of an umbrella with rubber or the wire used for clothesline.
“In those days we fished during the day around nearby reefs. It would only take an hour and then you return with lots of big fish,” he said.
Back then, you fished only for food.
“Fish was never sold and would just be shared with relatives in the village. My father would call out to the nearby houses to say the fish has arrived and for each to take their share and each would come with sugar or tea stuff to thank us,” said Ilisoni.
“Over time, torches and spearguns were introduced and we started selling fish. With the abundance of fish sold, I was able to pay cash for three trucks, a motorbike, a boat with engine, a generator and the education of my four children,” he said.
Ilisoni is an island success story — making a good living from the sea. But many others wanted to find the same access to income in the ocean.
Soon enough, the fish stocks started declining, both the number of fish and the sizes got smaller and smaller.
Fishing down the food web
The 4FJ Fish Smart campaign, which is helping communities understand the changes in fish catches and understand what fishing practices and fishing rules can help fishing grounds thrive again, explained Mafa Qiolele, program manager of cChange, which co-ordinates the 4FJ Fish Smart campaign with the Ministry of Fisheries and a growing list of local partners.
Overfishing usually happens the same way everything, at the top of food chain fish, the biggest, prized fish disappear first like varivoce and kalia. Then you lose fish like kawakawa and donu, and so on, down the food chain, he said.
Fiji’s national rules reflect this, with national bans and regulations trying to revive these fish.
The campaign approached Ilisoni, because he was well-known as a master fisher from Lau, to share his experiences. The campaign wants to bring more attention to the challenges fisher men and women face today.
“Most of those reefs that we know that are specially for certain fish are empty. For example, it is hard to find sevaseva (sweet lips) from the rock that we usually catch them from.
“We are also catching more ulurua and ulavi and we never used to catch ulavi to sell before because they go bad easily,” said Ilisoni.
And of course, his village lost a tradition of sharing varivoce and kalia.
This idea, of fishing down the food web, has resonated with communities because they have lived it, Qiolele said, and it has also motivated them to action.
Traditions eroding
Ilisoni said as the fish stock started to dwindle so did their income.
“I bought my fourth truck but unlike the ones I bought on cash before, I am now doing payments because it is hard to catch fish and I have to go one to two hours to even reach where I will fish.
Even the reefs that we know where each different fish species are found, have now gone,” said Ilisoni.
“Today everyone is mostly diving at night and the fish that are being caught are getting smaller and smaller in size. Those diving also includes even primary students who are diving during the day and also at night.
“The cost of fuel keeps going up and it now costs $74 for 20 litres so we would need 40 to 60 litres for a fishing trip but we only sell our fish for $5 a kilo which compared to the cost of fuel is really not comparable.”
His profession is increasingly the one endangered, not just the fish.
Lau leads the fish smart way
Last year, the province of Lau laid a blanket ban on night spear fishing in the province. Totoya chief Turaga Roko Sau, Roko Jiosefa Cinavilakeba said this was done because night spear fishing wreaked havoc on their fish stocks, leaving a big dent in their qoliqoli and fishers emptied their habitats when they are out there at night.
“There had been a number of villages in the province, some islands, that have already been imposing night spear fishing bans– mainly because the resource owners see that this type is fishing has more detrimental effects on fish stocks” Roko Jiosefa said.
So the ban was introduced at the provincial level.
Ilisoni has seen his traditions eroded, as well as his income, and he, for one, is supportive.
“Although this is the easiest way to get income from fishing, it is one of the worst fishing methods causing loss of our resources and bringing with it poverty,” he said.
By sharing his story, Ilisoni reminds us what it means to be a master fisher.
It is simply being the best at catching fish but how to best ensure the catch supports his family, his community and his traditions.
- ALUMECI NAKEKE is the communications officer for cChange, a nonprofit organisation based in Suva that created the 4FJ campaign. The views expressed are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect the views of this newspaper.
