The Guardian

Meet Cape Verde’s ‘fish detectives’

‘Fish detectives’ try to keep species extinction at bay in Cape Verde

Annika Hammerschlag

Older fishermen such as Boaventura Martins, 60, have noticed the fish have not only become more scarce but smaller. Some species have disappeared, he says. On a good day, Martins will catch 10kg of fish, which is barely enough to cover his fuel costs. When he began fishing 40 years ago, he would bring home hundreds of kilos – enough to give away part of his catch to his community on the island of Maio in the Cape Verde archipelago, off the west African coast. He would throw back the small fish. There were no scuba divers or semi-industrial boats. Now he sees divers daily, and lights from the big boats shine through his window almost every night.

In 2016 he was among the first to join the inaugural group of the Guardians of the Sea. There are now 20 Guardians monitoring illegal fishing activity along the coastline of Maio, one of the 10 islands that make up Cape Verde.

“Even if I don’t feel like fishing, I will still go out to do my work as a Guardian,” he says. “Because if we keep going at this rate, eventually we will run out of fish.”

The Guardians were formed by the Maio Biodiversity Foundation. When a fisherman spots illegal activity, he records the details, which are added to a database and shared with the authorities. They also track wildlife sightings to help the foundation monitor populations of whales, dolphins and turtles.

One of the Guardians, Carlitos Fernandes, sinks the anchor of his battered wooden boat and casts his lines. All the time, he watches the horizon for illegal fishing vessels. Fernandes, 37, notes down visits from four turtles and a pod of dolphins. Typical infractions recorded include scuba divers fishing with tanks and capturing protected species such as hammerhead sharks and turtles. One of the most common violations is semi-industrial boats fishing within three nautical miles of the coastline – a zone reserved for artisanal fishermen.

The boats typically come from the main island of Santiago, where conservationists say overfishing is rampant. Cape Verde is a biodiversity hotspot, boasting 17 whale and dolphin species, 60 species of shark and ray, and five of sea turtle. Yet just 1% of the archipelago’s marine area is protected.

Maio's artisanal fishermen fear that it may only be a matter of time before their traditional fishing grounds begin to resemble those of Santiago. “I’m more tired and more stressed,” says Fernandes, who just three years ago would typically work from 4am to 9am and return with three big buckets of fish. Now he is lucky if he fills one bucket. Before he became a Guardian, his brother, Filipovic Fernandes, says he used to see other fishermen catch sea turtles nearly every day. “Now, if there’s a Guardian around, they won’t catch them,” he says.

The Guardians have recorded more than 240 infractions over the past four years. The data is especially valuable in Maio, which has just one fisheries inspector to monitor 50 miles of coastline. But enforcement is rare. “We can’t be everywhere on the island. It’s too hard to cover,” says one Maio police officer. “The information helps us learn which type of illegal activity is happening, where and how often.”

When enforcement does occur, fines are usually issued. In the most severe cases equipment is confiscated. No one has ever gone to prison, says Sara Ratão, the foundation’s marine programme coordinator. “The Guardians see these violations happening every day and they feel like nothing is being done,” she says.

This year, Cape Verde approved the construction of a £425m development project on Maio. The Little Africa complex will include a tourist resort and business centre.

The most recent contract with the EU grants fishing rights to 69 vessels from Spain, Portugal and France. About £213,000 a year is supposed to be allocated toward “the sustainable management of fisheries in Cape Verde” and “to support the local fishing communities”.

But for fishermen such as Fernandes, it often feels like the government is working against them. “I don’t know if there will be fish in the future,” he says. “If we destroy nature, eventually we will destroy ourselves.”

‘Even if I don’t want to fish I will go to work as a Guardian. Because if we keep going at this rate we will run out of fish’

Boaventura Martins, 60 Maio fisherman

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2021-09-22T07:00:00.0000000Z

2021-09-22T07:00:00.0000000Z

https://guardian.pressreader.com/article/282175064258257

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