Subsidizing the Decline in Ocean Health

Fishermen sip tea and repair their net just off the coast of Joal-Fadiouth, where they search for fish to sell and eat. Fishing is the only trade they know, but overfishing has dwindled the fish stocks and left little for the locals, who are forced to travel farther from shore. “People have relinquished fishing methods of the past,” says Malik Seye. “Our ancestors would not go far out to sea, and they would come back with fish.”

A worker at a fish processing plant in Joal-Fadiouth dries, salts, and smokes fish for transport. The decreased catch means that people like him make about a third of the wages they did in 2010. Women hold the majority of the jobs in the plants where fish is prepared for selling; some bring their children to work with them because they no longer can afford school fees.

A woman at the market picks up fish, which will go to a plant for processing, on trucks to other parts of Africa, or to locals for dinner. A bucket of fish this size is not nearly enough to feed fishing crew members and their families.

Marianne Teneng Ndaye stands among hundreds of freshly caught shad drying in the sun. She’s a third-generation fish processor and president of the Seafood Women Processors, a job she’s held since 2006. “Processing fish is our only source of earning a living,” she says. “The [industrial] boats destroy the sea because they take the big fish and the small fish with their nets and rotating chains.” She adds that the small fish need to stay in the ocean to grow and reproduce. “The sea belongs to all of us. It’s up to us to preserve it.”

Sundown mutes the vibrant colors of a painted pirogue. Malik Seye says leading a boat of fishermen is a big responsibility; if he comes back with no fish, he must borrow money to support his family. “Whenever I go fish, I wish I could bring something for the family,” he says. “I leave it in God’s hands.”

Brightly colored handmade dugout canoes, known as pirogues, are docked on a Senegalese shore after spending the day at sea.

A fisherman balances his catch of the day as pirogues enter the port in Joal-Fadiouth, Senegal. Fishing has become more difficult for the local men, who receive a very small subsidy from the government to support their work. Many of their competitors from more well-heeled countries draw significantly larger sums: Fish industry workers in developing countries such as Senegal receive an estimated one-seventh of the amount of government subsidies that their counterparts in developed countries get.

Fishermen pull a net into their wooden pirogue. The boat’s captain, Malik Seye (far right), says the commercial fishers, who patrol the waters in much bigger boats equipped with huge nets, pose a real danger for the ocean. Seye says, “When they catch fish, it is like somebody sweeping their room and not paying attention to what is dirt and what is not.” A megatrawler can catch up to 22,000 tons of fish a year, or the annual capacity of about 1,700 pirogues combined.

Fishermen sip tea and repair their net just off the coast of Joal-Fadiouth, where they search for fish to sell and eat. Fishing is the only trade they know, but overfishing has dwindled the fish stocks and left little for the locals, who are forced to travel farther from shore. “People have relinquished fishing methods of the past,” says Malik Seye. “Our ancestors would not go far out to sea, and they would come back with fish.”

A worker at a fish processing plant in Joal-Fadiouth dries, salts, and smokes fish for transport. The decreased catch means that people like him make about a third of the wages they did in 2010. Women hold the majority of the jobs in the plants where fish is prepared for selling; some bring their children to work with them because they no longer can afford school fees.