#The Island of the Fisherwomen

[zegalba]

Fosco Maraini: The Island of the Fisherwomen (1962)

Ama traditional female divers in Japan. They dive into the sea and use specialized techniques to harvest seafood. Clad in traditional white attire, they venture into the ocean using wooden boats or floats. While underwater, they gather fish and shellfish, and their work has a rich history and cultural significance. Ama's occupation is demanding, as they make a living from the sea while embracing the beauty of the underwater world.

[lstnrr]

The Last Mermaid by Peter Ash Lee

[babekuhl]

The Island of the fisherwomen

[writerfromtheshore]

Within the Reach of a Sea Monster

(fondly nicknamed “The Ga/Ta-Matoran Fishing Trip”)

From the Journals of Takua the Chronicler: 

The Ga-Koroan call it “Beyond Mata Nui’s Reach”. 

It’s this point out on the ocean, way far to the east of the Naho Bay. The fishing vessels go out there on their deep sea voyages, at least a four day journey out. It’s there where the island of Mata Nui itself practically disappears. The island becomes a blip on the ocean and then whoop! it is gone, and you are surrounded by the endless ocean. Everywhere you look, there is only blue water for as far as the eye can see. 

The fishing vessels pick up more than enough food for Ga-Koro and its neighboring villages. But there are other things out here too. It seems like everything is out here, of both the biomech and the completely organic kind. 

But past the Reach is where there are creatures that I would truly call the dwellers in the deep. There are things out here that I can’t even put to words. You don’t run across them often, but when you do, it’s something that is imprinted on you. I’ve asked Turaga Vakama about them— his only response is that they are from the time before time, and they were probably ancient even then…

***

On rare occasions did Matoran get sick. A villager in Le-Koro would occasionally ingest a poisonous herb. A Po-Matoran from time to time would come down with heat stroke. But these cases were as extreme as they were rare. Most cures and resources were not far away from the villages, and the Matoran were largely able to live their lives on the island of Mata Nui without too much worry for their health. 

As Maglya watched his crewmate Aodhan lean over the rail of the ship, he decided that seasickness was a whole other Kohlii game.

The unwell Ta-Matoran clutched onto the rail of the ship, struggling to keep himself upright as it pounded through the swells. Each time the boat came crashing down, he lurched over the side, trying his best not to spill his organics into the ocean. 

Around them, Maglya and other more steady stomached Matoran worked furiously on the deck. A group of Ta-Matoran on one end of the ship sliced bunker for keras crab pots, while another group of Ga- Matoran sewed more bait into the lining of fishing nets. A third group in the middle of the deck sorted their most recent catch, pulling apart fish and crabs that clutched onto each other. The different types of catch were then cast down into chutes that led to the cargo hold below. 

The crew sang together as they worked, their tune thundering over the deck— and Aodhan’s seasick groans.

Since I left the village

of fire oh so dear to me

I’ve ventured to the ocean

and taken ship to sea!

Since I left the village 

I’ve become a fisherman

cast on a boat

and sailed on out

with many a Ga-Matoran!

Gone ‘re warmth 

of home’s fire and the flame

Came out here a thinkin’ 

the ocean waves were tame!

Since I left the village 

and sailed out towards the reach

I ‘aven’t seen Ta-Koro 

nor the black sand beach.

Since I left the village

hauling lines for better weeks

Gather food for the people of the Spirit 

While he slumbers in his sleep.

Whichever verse they thundered next was lost to Aodhan as Maglya clapped a hand on his fellow villager’s back. Aodhan looked to his side to see Maglya cast a large fish net off of the boat near where the two stood. The net fluttered in the breeze for a moment before hitting the surface and disappearing into the whitewater of the passing ocean. 

“How do you hold up?” Maglya asked as he secured the line. 

“Honestly….so lightheaded,” Aodhan groaned. He gripped the rail tightly as the ship cruised over a swell. “I should stayed on land… gone on the hunt with Jaller instead.”

Maglya frowned. When Turaga Nokama had asked Turaga Vakama for a few spare hands, a number of Matoran, including Maglya and Aodhan, were glad to volunteer to help their sister fisherwomen villagers. The voyage had for many days been nothing but grueling work, which no Ta-Matoran was ever afraid of. But the voyage for some reason gone longer than anticipated, they were still a ways from shore. As much as he would be like the next Matoran and tell Aodhan to drink some lava and toughen up, Maglya could see his fellow Ta-Matoran was not getting any better or being of any use up on the deck. 

“A few hours below deck will do you good,” Maglya said. “See if you can get some of that Hareke to chew on. I heard it might help.”

Aodhan nodded, and began to stumble towards the crew’s cabins below. Maglya watched him closely before throwing another net over the gunwales. 

***

Pelagia kept her hand firmly on the throttle of her ship, pushing the vessel at a steady pace along the ocean. While she did so, she stared intently out the window of the captain’s quarters at the endless blue ahead. The lens of her Akaku zoomed in and out as it scanned courses and channels that only she could see. Now that she was on her way, there was nothing that would deter her from her path. 

Behind her, her first mate paid no attention to the ocean outside. Her gaze was instead fixed upon the map of the island of Mata Nui covering the large table in the cabin. On it were the eastern grounds of the island, notably the details of the waterways they now traveled through. 

“So you plan to lure her… it… in,” the mate said, looking up from the map. 

“Aye.” The captain nodded, but did not take her eyes off her course. “Everything else has not worked. We will lure it in. There is no way to find it out there. But it knows where we are coming from and where we want to go. Make it come to us, and we will deal with it closer to our turf.

The two of them were quiet for a moment as they watched the ocean go by. 

Lucky fishing vessels who were able to get beyond the shallow seas around the island of Mata Nui, a deep sea land, which some called “The Reach”, told of miraculous catches awaiting.

Crabs and fish were out there in the farther reaches of the endless ocean, containing nutrients and awesome tastes that most of the Matoran seldom experienced. Pelagia had tasted some of those catches herself, and wanted to bring them home on her own ship. 

Unlucky ships, however, were catching the attention of a creature that would not let them pass into deeper waters. Pelagia, despite a few of her predecessors’ failures, was determined to put an end to this creature and free the way towards the far Reach. 

Silence hung heavy as hopes and fears ebbed to and fro in each of the two Ga-Matoran’s minds. They had traveled out here to help gather food for the villages, but real reason Pelagia had agreed to this voyage was the potential to hunt of this destructive and elusive creature. 

Down on the deck, the hired hands of the Ta-Matoran were hard at work with their fisherman sisters. All that they knew was that they were gathering fish for the Koro. They had no idea of what was truly out on the ocean. 

“These Ta-Matoran seem to have strength,” the mate remarked, putting those hopes into words as she watched the hired hands. “Hopefully it will be enough to help us subdue that… thing.”

Pelagia nodded in agreement. “Go to the armories below and ensure we have all that we need be ready. If everything is prepared right, they will rise to the challenge, and we will be able to see if the firespitters live up to how much they bolster about themselves.”

The door clicked behind the mate as she left. Pelagia watched her go down to the deck, then set her sights towards the blue ahead. Afternoon hung above the ship, but it would be night soon enough. 

And then the real fishing would begin. 

***

Nightfall a few hours later found the crew of Ta-Matoran workers following their sick crewmate to quarters below deck. Aodhan, curious as to what was going on above, eyed up each of them as they huddled in the galley together. 

“Have we stopped?” Aodhan asked. Maglya and a few others shook their heads. 

“It certainly feels like it, but the Captain is still pushing away at the throttle. The ocean is simply smoother sailing tonight than the afternoon.”

“I hope this means we are close to port,” Aodhan grumbled. 

“She’s taken us out much further than past trips,” Maglya remarked as they passed around their dinner. 

“That she did,” another Matoran remarked. “I have been watching the Red Star, and I could see it in a place in the sky ‘ve never seen it before. We probably went several days further south than usual.”

“We have been going north for a while though, so we have got to be almost home,” Aodhan said. “The Koro has to be within sight soon.”

“Why are we out so far though?” a fourth Matoran remarked. “Are the catches around the island really that little, that we have to go all the way out where we did?” 

“Did anybody notice the eyepiece on her Akaku is different?” the fourth Matoran asked. Aodhan and Maglya both shook their heads and looked at each other. “I saw her looking at us from the window of her quarters. There is something… different about the Captain’s mask than before.”

“Maybe she went to Turaga Vakama for an repairs,” Aodhan suggested. The Turaga of Fire was well known for fixing masks of Matoran from all Koros. 

“But what for?” the third Matoran wondered. 

“To help us find the fish better,” Aodhan said matter of factly. He didn’t see any reason to believe otherwise. “Although we can’t use mask powers, I’ve heard of that Matoro in Ko-Koro using his Akaku to scope out the mountain Rahi while on the hunt. The Captain is probably just doing the same thing here.”

“Maybe there is something out there,” the fourth Matoran said, in a mock eerie voice. “Something more than just the fish.”

“I sure hope not,” Aodhan said. “I am having a hard enough time just getting through this ocean. I don’t think I could stomach the thought of something else out here.”

“There’s been… things that have washed to shore on Ta- and Ga-Wahi,” the fourth Matoran reminded them. “Don’t you remember those odd flower looking things that were lined with teeth? What about those pods of odd squid that Kapura was fishing up a few months back?”

“I am not much of a beach Matoran,” the third Matoran shook their head. “Stay mostly in the village, keep to the lava flows.”

“Well a bunch of stuff is definitely out there,” the fourth Matoran confirmed. “Perhaps she is looking for the thing that swallowed Marka’s ship. Heard it was a big squid with seven eyes and claws at the end of its tentacles that pulled the thing all the way–”

“Don’t even go there,” Aodhan protested, cutting off the rambling Matoran. “I only came out here for extra work. The thought of anything else under the waves other than what we are catching will make me sicker than I already am.”

“She has simply been working us hard this trip,” Maglya said. “She probably had her mask changed just so she can have a sharper eye on us.” 

The chatter died down, each Matoran no longer wanting to continue the increasingly uncomfortable conversation. The group sat there in silence, each focusing on their own meal and their own thoughts. However, as they sunk into the worn and beaten chairs and benches, they could not shake that feeling that they were being watched. 

***

The Ta-Matoran in the galley were actually the last thing in Pelagia’s scopes. She was in fact using her scope to stare down her mate in their current disagreement. 

Between them was the report of the day’s catch that the mate had given Pelagia. All of the catch they had for today, all they had collected during the trip… she thought it would be a quick crunch of numbers, but Pelagia’s new plan had made turned this into a tougher conversation that the mate was not sure she could be on board with. 

“You said that you had wanted to lure it in,” the mate said. “Now you’re saying you want to feed it… to put these villagers’ days, weeks of hard work down the drain…

“We’ve gone the way we should have,” Pelagia said, gesturing to her maps. “only to have it not show. This is the last way to get it to come to us.”

“What about food for the village?” the mate shot back at her. “What is the Turaga going to say when the ship shows up with nothing of the food promised to the village?”

“They will have the sea for the taking if we take this thing out,” was Pelagia’s reply. The mate pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. 

“There will be a mutiny if we do it,” the mate warned her. “Ga-and Ta-Matoran alike.”

“Only if this doesn’t work,” Pelagia said. “When this works, though, they’ll be scared for their lives. Mutiny will be the last thing on their minds.”

The mate looked over the carving of the report she had given Pelagia. She understood, but she didn’t support it.

“This is the real catch we are going for,” she said to the mate. “Fish come every day, but an opportunity like this is years in the making. Mata Nui is not much further. We are taking the chance tonight.”

There were a number of things that the mate did not say. They were still too far from the island for her liking. If this didn’t work they would be in a number of troublesome situations, one of more likely of them including ‘dead’.

“Head down to the hold, and when you do it, be ready,” Pelagia commanded. “We won’t have much time once this happens.” The captain was dead set on this, and there was no changing her mind. Swallowing her pride, the mate nodded. 

“Captain,” she said. “I hope you are right about this.”

***

It was nearing midnight, and Maglya was now worn after the long day’s work aboard the vessel. Yet he was still awake, enthralled by the night ocean that he gazed upon from the crow’s nest. By all means, he should have wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, before the next day’s long and grueling work retrieving the pots that they had spent today casting. But there was something out there that kept him looking for more. Perhaps it was promise that home was very close. Perhaps it was the blackness of the ocean after seeing it blue for so long. Perhaps it was the stars overhead. Maybe even it was the Red Star, casting an eerie scarlet shine on the sea and the ship that reminded Maglya of working on the Ta-Koro lava flows at night. 

He was no astrologer like Nixie in Ga-Koro or the crazy fellow fishermen he talked to below. As the boat drove through the ocean on this night though, Maglya could see that the stars were looking more like they did from their island home. Almost back to the Koro, Maglya thought with a smile. 

Somewhere out there were all of the nets and pots that they had cast off through the day. Tomorrow they would circle back and pull them up, as they had a number of times in this voyage, and see what they had caught. There were much of the catch that the Ta-Matoran had pulled up that they found familiar. There were many biomechanical Rahi out on the sea— from Takea sharks to young Tarakava to keras crabs and eels— that the crew had been pulling up in the crab pots. But there were also other creatures that populated the endless ocean– from a clear headed dolphin like creature and various completely organic jellyfish to a large thing in a shell that crawled along the deck with a claw the size of a Matoran’s body protruding from its head– which they were finding. It wasn’t as extreme as what the other Ta-Matoran down below had been rambling about, but there were a number of creatures that had spooked the Matoran. Maglya was not sure of what to make of them. None of the Ta-Matoran did. 

A glow from far off caught Maglya’s eye. Many of the bioluminescent sea life would follow the boat in the night, angler fish and feeder sea life, which had little sparkles of color that stood out from just under the ocean’s surface. However, the thing that rippled in the ocean nearby that glowed with a pink and yellow hue seemed different from the other creatures that trailed the boat. 

Whatever it was, it bobbed in the water, noticeably nearing the ship. It didn’t move like anything he’d seen before. As it came closer, approaching with growing speed, it almost seemed as if it were a ribbon of light rippling through the water. Its glow from below beamed to the surface, making the ocean almost sparkle in the dead of night. Maglya was transfixed, leaning further over the rail of the crow’s nest to get a better look. He barely noticed the growing sound of sloshing as the waves around the ship began to crash. 

But suddenly, the fast approaching glow seemed to fade. Whatever creature it belonged to, from what Maglya could tell, dove down in the water, heading to the depths. The water was suddenly dark, and Maglya, having leaned forward in fascination, was left scratching his head. 

“What in Mata Nui’s name was that—“ Maglya began. However, he was cut short as a sheer force slammed into the ship and rocked it violently. 

The Ta-Matoran clutched the rails of the crow’s nest as the ship swayed. The ocean, calm only a few moments ago, was now a mess. The growing, criss crossing waves that he had previously been ignorant to were everywhere, throwing themselves to create a mix of chaos on the night sea. 

The crow’s nest bowed as the ship rocked, leaning down as if to meet the ocean. Maglya found the planks beneath his feet sliding away. He gripped onto the rails of the nest to keep himself from falling towards the ocean not so far below. 

The ship straightened itself, bobbing slightly on the ocean’s surface as the approaching waves died out. 

The creature reappeared on the other side of the ship, illuminating the night with its glow. Maglya, from as high as he sat, was probably the only Matoran to get a clear view of the creature. An elongated serpent-like creature swam through the night waters, weaving from side to side as it passed under the ship. Beneath the glow that emanated from its entire body, a silvery sheen could be seen covering it. Its head— the bobbing blob that Maglya had originally seen— pushed upwards towards the ocean’s surface as it swam, but it did not break the surface of the water. A single eye looked at the ship as it passed over, in an expressionless but somehow still rage filled manner. 

“What kind of Rahi is that?” Maglya cried out. 

“No time to wonder or explain,” a Ga-Matoran called as she scrambled up the ladder, pressing a speargun into his arms. “Join your brothers below!” she called as she scrambled back down to the deck. 

The deck was suddenly bustling with activity. Ga-Matoran were dashing around, ushering Ta-Matoran into groups. Spear guns were thrust into the hired help’s hands. Maglya found himself bumping into his sleepy eyed companions, just as confused as they were. Everyone asked what was going on, but even after seeing the creature, the watchman only had a slight clue of what was to happen next.  

A cry came from the crow’s nest where Maglya had just descended from. He looked up in surprise to see the seldom seen captain, Pelagia herself, up there, bearing a massive trident. As Maglya listened to her bellowing speech, he tried getting a glimpse of the weapon that was strapped to her back. 

“Here she is! The real one!” Pelagia cried. “We came out here to fish the open seas, brothers and sisters. However, this creature, — the Oarfish— has kept us from the real seas out there and the real reaches. It is no Rahi of Makuta’s. It is something of this ocean, something of the deep seas that has thwarted us for months, years on end. Tonight is the night that we take it DOWN, and claim the far reaches of the sea for ourselves, the Matoran!” 

There was a cheer from the group as the Ga-Matoran threw their fists up. Several Ta-Matoran joined suit, but others looked around bewildered at what they had gotten themselves into. 

“Now ready your spears and your harpoons,” Pelagia called down to them, “for this is where the real fishing happens! Take—“

Whatever more Pelagia wanted to say was cut off by another blow to the ship. The creature had come around again for another ramming.

Orders were barked amongst the deck. There was a lot pushing as a mix of red and blue armor rushed to the edge of the ship. Maglya and his brothers found themselves peering over the gunwales of the ship, their spearguns in hand. Each aimed their guns toward the water, waiting for the creature to break the surface. 

Another shift was felt in the boat. The water around the ship, almost blinding with the bioluminescent glow of the oarfish, was suddenly dark again. The Ta-Matoran, curious, lowered their spearguns for a moment. Something dark seemed to pour out from the ship, its dark outline covering the glow of the oarfish. Maglya squinted, trying to discern what the silhouette was against the glow of the creature. 

It was only when the dark mass began to drift in the swirling currents did Maglya realize that it was their catch. The doors to the catch container on the underside of the ship had been opened, most likely by something in the captain’s quarters, and all of their catch was swimming and scrambling free into the ocean. 

The keras, the fish of the endless ocean… everything in the hull that they had caught was now out there in the open. 

Several cries of disbelief could be heard. Long days of hard work and back breaking hauling of crab pots and fishing nets. Pulling of heavy fishing nets that left the Ta-Matoran sore and exhausted each day. All the food that they had gathered in hopes of feeding their village, released and out there on the ocean

All of their hard work was done just so they could chum for this thing. 

The oarfish took the bait though, sweeping in and swallowing hundreds of pounds of fish. The ship was largely left untouched as it did so, the sea behemoth staying several bio from the ship as it scooped several mouthfuls of food. 

“Let them loose and grab her!” Pelagia called.

The spearguns were fired, flying through the air and into the water. They sunk into the body of the creature, catching its hide. 

The oarfish immediately yanked against the impalements as it tried swimming away. It roared from underwater, trying to wiggle free of the grip of the harpoons and spears that had grabbed on to it. The hide of the creature glowed brightly in the spots where it was struck, as if it bled light instead of physical blood. 

The beast was strong, and the tension on the lines connected to the harpoons was almost immediate. The Ta-Matoran were pulled to the edge of the gunwales as the oarfish thrashed. But the Matoran were able to steady themselves on the deck. Ga-Matoran came immediately to help their brothers to hold the creature steady. 

Maglya used every ounce of his strength to hold on as the creature resisted, pulling back with the rest of his brothers. He could feel the tension of the Ga-Matoran side by side holding the line with him. They both struggled and panted as they fought to hold the line. Maglya could feel his jaw clenched. Every part of his body ached, but somehow he and his brothers and sisters were resisting the raw muscle of this behemoth.

The mate patrolled behind Maglya, handing out more harpoons for the gunners to fire. Several Ga-Matoran were tying off the lines to the cleats, in hope to free up the crew for the next volley. 

The boat itself groaned as it felt the pull of the oarfish’s strength, creaking and leaning starboard while its entire crew resisted the oarfish’s pull. The mate was worried, looking at the state of the battle so far; while the Ta Matoran were living up to their name, they were barely holding onto the stalemate that they had with this creature. Giving the command to fire, the mate watched, hopeful that the next volley would potentially help turn the tide. 

The next round of harpoons fired, sinking into the creature’s hide. It roared once more, thrashing about alongside the ship. Its rage was growing as it flailed about in the water. The crew grasped with all their might, holding onto the lines with their collective strength. The ship leaned hard starboard, dipping dangerously off keel. Cracking could be heard as the cleats endured the beast’s struggle. 

The ship swayed violently, and the mate jumped, grabbing hold of the rigging that led to the crow’s nest. The crew were holding their grip on the ship, but the ship was starting to move with the creature. Unable to wriggle away, it was now towing the ship in its frantic flee. 

“Captain!” The mate called, gesturing to the fracturing ship around her.

“This is where we make our move!” Pelagia called to her with a smile. From her back she grabbed what Maglya had glimpsed earlier, a long and sleek disc launcher. The mate’s eyes widened. The Matoran usually fought Rahi with bamboo discs, but these metal ones— which the Turaga called ‘Kanoka’ were rare and rumored to be powered. These could give the crew an edge in fighting this Oarfish monster, the mate knew, and she watched as Pelagia loaded one into the launcher, her eyes twinkling with madness. 

The Matoran crew below struggled to hold on once more, and Pelagia wasted no time. Aiming the disc launcher, she fired the Kanoka. It flew towards the Oarfish, cruising in a way that the mate could hardly believe. Many bamboo discs were able to curve in their path to the target, but this disc that the captain fired seemed to move as if it were a Gukko flying through the trees. It went around the lines that crossed the deck, almost seeming to dodge any obstacle it encountered. The mate watched, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. 

Waves of power rippled over the oarfish as the disc hit. The glow of the oarfish shimmered as the Kanoka bounced off its surface, and whatever power it seemed to possess took effect on the creature’s body. The creature roared in protest, feeling its strength falter as it felt the disc effect it. The Matoran felt the strength of the oarfish weaken, and gave a hopeful heave to continue to pull it into submission. 

The oarfish was not done however. Even with its strength diminished, it was able to thrash violently against the ship. Whatever it had been hit with had truly angered it. 

The creature chose to switch tactics. Instead of pulling against the lines, the oarfish decided to change direction, and slammed itself into the hull that it was being pulled toward. The lines slacked for a moment, and the creature felt the pain in its hide subside as it collided with the ship. 

The Matoran were thrown about wildly, the lines slipping from their hands. They were scattered upon the deck like shells on a beach, landing on hard on their backs. Many of the crew tried to get back on their feet, to grab the lines and reel in this fish, but the Oarfish continued to ram itself against the hull and shake the deck so violently that they could not stand. A loud crunch could be heard below the deck, and many Matoran widened their eyes in shock. 

“You better have another disc like that, Captain!” the mate called from the rigging. With one hand, Pelagia held onto the rails of the watch post, while with another she rummaged through her pack for another Kanoka. 

“Grab the lines down there!” Pelagia called, as she reloaded the launcher. Her voice was hoarse and rumbling amongst the chaos. The Matoran below, caught between their fear of the behemoth and their fear of the captain, scrambled to grab any line they could. 

Pelagia took aim to fire again. The ship jerked, and her disc was misaimed. It went soaring into the water. She cursed, and went to reload—

Below the water, the oarfish had enough. Turning itself, it swam headfirst toward the hull. Its size allowed it to break through the wooden and protodermic structure of the walls, and it thrashed as it entered the guts of the ship. For all the pain that it had caused the creature, the oarfish was determined to tear this interruption on the sea to bits. 

A great crack resounded throughout the ship. Heads whirled as the Matoran listened. The boards beneath their feet began to shift, and the crew scrambled. The boat, now a shell for the angry oarfish, was being torn apart. 

Above the deck, as they hung from the rigging, Pelagia and the mate themselves looked around in panic. “Where is it?” the captain roared, as she loaded another disc. The mate’s head whirled from side to side, unable to locate the creature. The crow’s nest shifted as the boat itself below cracked. The ship was sinking, and they needed to strike at the oarfish before it made the ship unsalvageable. 

The burning glow gave its location away, to their horror. The oarfish burst through the ship, emerging in the ocean on the other side. Both Matoran saw it at once. Pelagia fired, as the mate pointed toward it. 

The oarfish seemed to see the disc coming. It turned to face the ship, looking for the little villagers. As it did so, it caught the sight of the disc, and the two who fired it. It lashed out, charging at the ship once more. Whatever power was in the disc was negligible compared to the oarfish’s rage, and it bounced off the creature as it made a collision course with the ship. 

The mast cracked now, and the crow’s nest giving a sharp bow toward the sea. Pelagia and the mate tumbled from their post, trying to separate themselves from getting tangled in with potentially lethal rubble. Pelagia had a disc in hand, trying to load it for one last fire at the creature. However, the sea met her before she could get the disc loaded, and all she could see was the terrible nighttime blackness of the ocean. 

***

The mate woke with a start. Small waves of the coastal waters lapped over the broken edges of her “life raft”, jostling it enough to bring her back from dreamless darkness. She scurried to secure her grip on the piece of rubble as she bobbed in the water, newfound alertness flooding her consciousness. 

All around her in the water there were dozens of other Matoran floating. They laid sprawled on other rubble, small bouts of surf sloshed over them. The mate was not sure if any of them were dead, but many looked worse for wear. 

Looking around, she could see that they floated not far from shore, the tree line of Po-Wahi easily visible from the shallows she bobbed in. Had they drifted all the way to shore? It seemed too good to be true. 

Another thing drifted in the shallows with them, something that concerned the mate: although it did not glow like it did that night, a large chunk of the carcass of the oarfish could be seen in the water with them. Numerous holes from the spears and harpoons could be seen peppering the carcass. She eyed it up, confused and worried at the same time. They had clearly caused harm to the creature, but there had been no way that they had torn the creature apart. She looked around for more pieces, including the head, but could not see anything further than the dozens of shipwrecked Matoran and the rubble that surrounded them.

Had they defeated the oarfish? Or was there something else out there that had done that to the creature?

[equatorjournal]

Fosco Maraini, Island of the Fisherwomen, 1962. "In 1954, Italian anthropologist, enthnographer, and photographer Fosco Maraini took a small film crew to Hekura Hegura-jima, a small Japanese island famous for its female pearl divers. His photographs, which were later published in a book titled l'Isola delle Pescatrici (The Isle of Fisherwoman), documented daily life on the island and the divers in, under, and around the water." https://www.instagram.com/p/CT7oLlSgYCJ/?utm_medium=tumblr

[tacomel420]

reblog this if you’re a competitive fisherwoman looking for the edge, support competitive fisherwomen looking for the edge, or want to leave this man stranded on an island with just his failed product

[7sghost]

what if we kissed... and we were both japanese lesbian fisherwomen cats raising kittens together living on a little island...... jkjk unless 👉👈

[infantisimo]

‘One cup of kadak chai’: How Mumbai’s Koli women survived the coronavirus pandemic | Paroma Soni

One year ago, Hema Bhanji sat wearily outside her home, a makeshift two-story building in the crowded, twisting alleyways of the Versova Koliwada, Mumbai’s oldest fishing village. She was slicing deftly through the last of her fish, caught on the boat’s final trip before the Covid-19 pandemic arrived on India’s shores.

By her side was a woman nearly 30 years younger, helping to clean the catch while hesitantly eyeing the chunks of surmai being tossed into a plate. Hema sighed and looked at her friend with exasperation. “Take the fish. Staring at it won’t fill you up.” Nearly in tears, the woman thanked Hema and hurried across the road to her family. She had to cook the fish before her husband woke up from his evening nap. As for herself, Hema went to bed hungry that night. “One empty stomach is better than five,” she said simply.

If this were a few months ago, the two would have been flocking, along with hundreds of other Koli fisherwomen, to their open, women-run fish market nearby with kilos of fish, joyfully gossiping about their husbands, their work, and all the other daily dramas of the area.

What followed was a tumultuous year where they had to hold on to every last rupee. India’s infamously strict lockdowns had halted all fishing activity, bringing Koli women’s livelihoods and social interactions to a complete standstill. By late June, many of them had begun to run out of money and food for themselves and their children.

What was most remarkable about Hema’s act of generosity is that it was not born out of any singularly altruistic sentiment, nor was it an isolated example of friendship. A group doubly marginalised for their caste and their gender, Koli fisherwomen have had the odds stacked against them for decades.

Their average income has declined by as much as 30% since 2010, yet the Indian state does not sufficiently acknowledge their economic vulnerability, according to research by Dr Samir Jale at Shivaji University.

More than two-thirds of Mumbai’s Koli population of 200,000 is female, but their voices are seldom included in the city’s political processes. Despite these challenges, Koli women continue to be fiercely independent, financially, and domestically – a feat that is rare in a male-dominated country.

A network of solidarity

Legally classified as a “Backward Class,” Kolis are unofficially considered a lower-caste community since the British Raj, although their own definitions of the term are fluid. Widely considered Mumbai’s native inhabitants when the city was just a group of islands, Koli fishermen go out to sea – sometimes for months – while the fisherwomen take charge of collecting, cleaning, cutting, drying, and selling the catch across town.

The traditional lifestyles of this small-scale fishing community have been under increasing threat since the late 1980s, owing to the rapid urban development of the city and climate change. Increasing levels of water pollution, changing marine ecosystems, and destruction of mangroves, among other factors, have forced fishermen to go out even longer and further in search of fish, shrinking the already-low levels of income for most households. Many young Kolis are increasingly moving out of fishing in search of more stable jobs as the fisheries get more uncertain by the day.

With the men away and without any economic support as India’s economy liberalised at the turn of the century, this group of women began forming ties to solve small problems that arose in their daily lives. Sometimes this meant helping out with each others’ kids because childcare services were inaccessible to them. At other times it has meant sharing ingredients or cooking meals together when there wasn’t enough food. They gave money to women in need even if their own funds were tight. They spent time listening to each other’s anxieties, fears and dreams, particularly in fish markets that became their safe spaces. They shielded each other from abusive husbands or lent shoulders to cry on.

Over time Koli women’s small acts of kindness developed into a complex network of solidarity, shaping a sense of collective identity. Describing them as “existing within the cracks and fragments of society,” Dr Niharika Banerjea, a sociologist at Ambedkar University, explained that the Kolis’ informal structures of care arise both as a result of the economic and gendered injustice they face, and in resistance to it.

“This is a community that has been marginalised for so long,” Banerjea said. “To survive, they have had to create alternative forms of living that do not prescribe to the dominant narratives of how society should be – based on caste, class, race, gender, and so on – and they have thrived.”

Emotional bonds

Unlike most women elsewhere in this overwhelmingly patriarchal country, Koli fisherwomen hold the decision-making power in households and in business. But outside of the Koliwadas, they continue to be denied access to their fundamental rights. So they use their collective power and informal networks to lift each other up as the state beats them down, especially during the pandemic and subsequent lockdowns.

“All of us, we have grown up together, spent all our lives around each other – and we have kind of been hidden from the rest of the world,” said Sheetal, Hema’s niece, who shifted from fishwork to a job at a local salon after getting married. “Sometimes we don’t get along, and some women certainly drive me crazy, but I can’t imagine a world where I would not stick up for anyone if they needed my help.”

These bonds are cultivated as much by the women’s compassion for each other as the infrastructure of their surroundings. “The strong cohesion between Koli women has always been a feature of the community,” said D Parthasarathy, a professor of Humanities and Social Sciences at IIT Bombay. “It is continually nurtured by the activities of everyday life, like in the way Koliwadas are spatially organised. Their houses look right into each other, their doors are always open, kids run through them all the time, and they do most household and business work together.”

As Koliwadas got increasingly encroached upon by developers, women began to combine the spaces between their homes into small courtyards, laying out all their fish to dry there instead of the big drying grounds they used to have. “We shared [physical] space for work and other things, but we also shared an emotional and fun space where we could just hang out,” said Hema, fondly recounting funny stories and encounters from the past few years.

Even faith reinforces the solidarity. “Koli women’s strong belief in their goddesses – not gods – strengthens their political identity,” said Parthasarathy. Though there are some Christian Kolis and Muslim Kolis, the majority are Hindu Kolis who worship seven main goddesses – including Mumba Devi, from whom the city of Mumbai gets its name. These goddesses symbolise harmony and unity, an important aspect in understanding the relationalities among Koli women.

‘Someone stole my air’

Most of the Koliwada’s communal spaces, however, closed off abruptly when the Covid-19 lockdowns were announced on March 23, 2020. The mandatory curfews and strict restrictions on movement brought fishing and all related fishing activities to a complete halt, including a shutdown of fish markets. Koli fisherwomen went from earning around Rs 100-300 per day to absolutely nothing. When the lockdowns began to ease, the annual 61-day ban on monsoon fishing to protect marine life came into force. Fisherwomen were forced to stay indoors for more than five months.

“The financial stress was one thing – at one point, we had no money even for buying vegetables,” remarked Bharati Chamar, a colorfully-dressed Koli fisherwomen in her 40s who sells fish in markets across Mumbai. “But being stuck with only my husband in our tiny house for half a year? I was bored. I missed the markets. It felt like someone stole my air.”

Mucky and densely packed, saturated with the smell of raw fish and the cacophony of enthusiastic customers, the fish market was the beating heart of these women’s friendships. “It’s not just a place of work – it’s the place their mothers went to, and their mothers before that, a space deeply enmeshed in their sense of identity,” said Gayatri Nair, a sociologist at IIT whose research focuses on Koli communities. “It’s a social, familial, familiar space that is thick with these relationships flowing through them.”

Ignored by the state

In a country that rarely accords visibility to women, hundreds of Koli women trading freely and controlling the cash flow in large public spaces is extraordinary. They not only participate in the labor force but also contribute confidently to how it is shaped, with generations of expertise. “Koli women manage the entire economic system of fishing within the Koliwadas,” said Ketaki Bhadgaonkar, co-founder of the non-profit Bombay61. “With their enterprising nature they make all the decisions about rents, budgets, household expenses, how fish should be processed and distributed. This rarely happens with women in other sectors.”

With less than 30% of the country’s women employed, a number steadily on the decline, India ranks 121st out of 131 in the Female Labor Force Participation Rate according to a World Bank report. Many Indian women stop working after marriage, largely because they are not allowed to by their husbands and in-laws. There are few labor protections or incentives for working women, in rural and urban sectors. Especially during the pandemic, more than 17 million women lost their jobs according to data from the Centre for Monitoring Indian Economy, a higher percentage than men.

Although Koli women’s work lives are far more independent than other Indian women’s, they too saw their incomes vanish overnight, and received no support from the state. Two fishworker unions’ that advocated for relief were run by men. Their demands centered primarily around things like fuel subsidies, discounts on fishing nets, and compensation for hours lost on boats – things that are relevant for fishermen who go out to sea, but not so much the fisherwomen who work on land. The resulting government policies that passed applied nationally and, unsurprisingly, did little to aid fisherwomen.

“There is general disregard in our country’s policies for the work that women do, whether that’s unpaid labor in the household or in the fisheries value chain. It’s just assumed women will come and do the drying once the fish has been caught,” said Siddharth Chakravarty, a consultant on fisheries and public policy. He added that even though women in Koli communities do at least 2-3 times the amount of fishwork as men, they are not able to take out loans or avail credit legally unless they have assets to put down as collateral. These assets, usually land holdings or other property, are generally drawn out under the man’s name.

Informal safety nets

For women in the Versova Koliwada, that has meant finding refuge in their friends’ generosity when institutions failed them. Jagruti, a smaller scale “distributor” who bought fish wholesale from other fisherwomen and then sold it door-to-door, had no way to make ends meet. Her husband Ashok, a dhol player for weddings, was also out of a job. They burned through their savings in the first month of the lockdown and were unable to take out any form of credit. The Maharashtra government had set up a ration stall which gave each Aadhaar card holder 5 kilos of rice and 5 kilos of lentils per month, but only Ashok had the identification card. Jagruti and their two young children have been waiting for their documents to process since 2013.

“After weeks of not eating a single full meal, I called my friend Seema and asked if she could make me just one cup of chai. We were saving up whatever little we could during lockdown in that silver box up there, just so we could afford some tea leaves,” Jagruti said, pointing to a rusted box next to a pooja space full of her seven Koli deities. “But with the electricity company tripling the cost of power, our water supply running out, the bank denying our loan, the kids’ school – we didn’t have a chance.”

She smiled abruptly. “I just wanted one cup of kadak chai to take my mind off things. The next thing I know, Seema shows up at my door with 10,000 rupees that the women have pooled together.”

This sharing of money is possible because some women who own their own boats, like Hema, are relatively more cash-rich, while other secondary distributors like Jagruti frequently need to depend on others – usually their husbands – when their flow of income falters.

“In an informal setting, these class differences matter less. Women with more means will gladly help women without,” said Nair. “But when you try to formalise these networks, the lines are blurrier. There’s a noted difference between women with trawlers, women with smaller boats, and women with no boats at all. This is especially visible when it comes to, for instance, an issue of voting and taking a trade union position on limiting the amount of trawler fishing.”

These conflicts have kept Koli women’s networks from being formalised, despite repeated attempts to form women’s cooperatives to leverage more political power. However, spontaneous forms of solidarity continue to thrive. “The relationships among Koli women and their informal networks are no less important or powerful than any formal ones,” said Shibhaji Bose, an independent consultant with the TAPESTRY research project.

“The Koli people – especially the fisherwomen – have always been central to the popular imagination of Mumbai,” said Bose, referring to old Bollywood movies and the city’s culinary traditions. “But the city has not paid Koli women any dividends. They are natives of the land, but have not gotten their fair share from the country’s economic boom. With their existence at a crossroads, they say it’s only their goddesses and their bonds that keep them afloat.”

The ways in which Koli women adapted their homegrown social structures to collectively survive the pandemic is indicative of their strength as much as it represents the deep failures of Indian society and state. Koli women opened up their homes, risked their lives and livelihoods for each other even as a deadly virus loomed, while many privileged communities instinctively turned inwards.

“We are proud people,” said Hema. “And we are proud of asking each other for help, and proud to be able to give it to our sisters who need it most.”

[19thcenturygirls]

Fisherwomen and their daughters in their traditional costumes on the island Marken, The Netherlands, 1905

[formlines]

Octopus and Seagull Paddle 

Jane Marston

My inspiration for this paddle came from Maureen Davis, a photographer, who captured this amazing event with her camera as she was walking along the road at Ogden Point in Victoria, B.C. in April of 2012.

I was raised on a small island outside of Chemainus, B.C. My family members were fishermen and fisherwomen. We had a wharf where we docked our 48-foot seine boat. Under the dock, there was a lone octopus. As children we swam off the dock and that octopus would dart past us. We never had any fear of this graceful tenant.

At the yearly family summer seafood barbecue, I asked several Elder fishermen if they ever encountered a seagull being eaten by an octopus. They all shook their heads with a vehement no! One fisherman told the story of being grabbed by an octopus and nearly pulled into the ocean, saying if it were not for his friend, he would have been gone. They were all amazed by the seagull story. One Elder suggested the scarcity of real food for the octopus might be the reason it attacked a seagull. One is left to wonder and ponder this fascinating story.

On the handle of the paddle is a crab and fish. The crab has a start of the full moon. I put this here because the moon is prevalent in the tides of the ocean. These are also some of the food sources the octopus dines on. I enjoyed making this paddle. I spent many hours working on this design creating it to give movement and flow but always being aware of letting it tell the story.

Jane Marston

[grapefruiters]

Nora Does DnD: First Official Session!

The Characters

1. Beacon: (played by me!) A Half-elf lore bard with low intelligence and high wisdom raised in a library after being found in a field, Beacon is excited to be sent out into the world to do research. They’re young, naive, and keep seeing eyes everywhere.

2. E’ot: (Toe backwards) A tiefling paladin. E’ot is a comedian and looking to find his way in the world, and has taken the oath of glory. He’s kind of a goofball.

3. Camilla: A halfling rogue. Camilla is a detective with a tragic backstory. All of her friends and family are dead. She’s very edgy. 

The Setup

The three of us are vacationing on a desert island at the same time, and happen to meet each other and become friends. We’re sunbathing on the beach together. Two fisherpeople are nearby. Suddenly, four Sahuagin (fish people) come out of the water and start to attack! We spring into combat!

The Combat: Highlights!

-I roll a nat 20 my very first time, and kill one of the Sahuagin. Beacon’s first murder!

-I get hit immediately, and have to heal myself before I die.

-E’ot, upon being hit: “Not cool, dude!”

-Me, going first: I’ll take care of the guy to the north, you folks handle the guy to the south after I’m done!” Them: “No, I don’t think I will.”

-E’ot gets in a perfect position to attack one of the fish people, only to roll terribly. Because of this, the fish person goes on to attack and kill one of the fisherwomen. We mourn her loss and berate E’ot. We will never forget her.

-After killing all the fish people, we move up the shore to help out some pirates with some crabs attacking them! They thank us. 

The Results

-The pirates invite us on the ship, and we agree! After sailing away, we notice that the island we left behind has sunk into the sea. Uh oh. 

-We talk to a teenager, and he thanks us for saving him from the fish people! He blesses us with a protection spell. How nice.

-E’ot notices that there is a crying sea-elf. He tries to comfort her, to not-so-good results.

E’ot: What’s wrong?

Sea Elf: My entire family died.

E’ot: Oh. Uh. Rough. Wanna talk about about it?

Sea Elf: ...

Sea Elf: Not really

E’ot: Oh.

E’ot: ....

E’ot: So how’s this weather?

Sea Elf: ...

E’ot leaves

-Beacon has a hilarious conversation with a guy at the bar.

Guy: hey hot stuff

Beacon: Hello, nice to meet you!

Guy: so,,,,wanna get,,you know?

Beacon: What?

Guy: Down and Dirty?

Beacon: What do you mean?

Guy: you knoww,,,

Beacon: I don’t. Please explain.

Guy:....

Guy: Come on

Beacon: Sorry, I don’t. Could you explain?

Guy: You’ve got to be kidding me. How old are you?

Beacon: Twenty-two. And a half.

Guy: *leaves*

What’s Next

The three of us talk to a Tabaxi named Three Earrings, the captain of the ship. She wants to know why that island sunk, and she wants to pay us to find out. She agrees to drop us off at a port city, that happens to be where Beacon’s home is located. The ship sets a course for it immediately. 

Beacon wakes up in the middle of the ocean, and starts to drown. They see a big yellow eye, and start to swim towards it. They feel tentacles pull them away. The eye speaks. It says “Initiation.” Beacon feels themself being able to breathe underwater. They wakes up in a cold sweat back on the ship.

After discussing this dream, our three friends dock on the city and decide to make a visit to the archives, Beacon’s home. Once in there, Beacon warmly reunites with one of the librarians. After catching him up to speed with everything, (including the murder!), he agrees to help do some research. And thus our story ends for today.

[gkdhaka]

Climate change is "eroding a way of life" for Fiji's fisherwomen

Climate change is “eroding a way of life” for Fiji’s fisherwomen

A group of women in Fiji spend long hours trekking out to sea to gather an edible seaweed that, for years, has served as a vital part of the island nation’s diet, culture and income. But now, the seaweed is becoming significantly more difficult to find, putting the livelihoods of many at risk. Nama, also called sea grapes, is a form of seaweed known for its pearl-like structures. According to…

[csnews]

Five Hector's dolphins die in fishing nets prompting acceleration of protection measures

Jo Moir - Mar. 20, 2018

The Government is considering extending the ban on commercial set nets after five Hector's dolphins were killed in fishing nets last month. But it's facing criticism from National over its stall of a planned rollout of cameras and observers on fishing vessels, which the Opposition says might have prevented the loss to the critically endangered species.

Fisheries Minister Stuart Nash said the nationally endangered dolphins were trapped in a commercial set net about six nautical miles north of Banks Peninsula on February 17. The fishermen involved reported the incident to Fisheries Inshore New Zealand (FINZ) the Ministry for Primary Industries. "The deaths of these dolphins is distressing," Nash said. 

"The fisherman did the right thing by coming forward to report the catch, as legally required. There were no observers or cameras on his boat. "The Chief Executive of FINZ advises me the fisherman deeply regrets the capture and has now decided to stop set netting in the area. I am also advised he appears to have been fishing outside the area closed to set netting, although MPI compliance staff are still assessing the incident," he said.

Conservation Minister Eugenie Sage said set nets had been banned in overseas jurisdictions to help save seabirds and seals. New Zealand knew set nets were an indiscriminate way to fish, and put sealife, including dolphins, at risk. National Party conservation spokeswoman Sarah Dowie said Government complacency on the rollout of cameras and observers, called into question its commitment to the protection of Hector's dolphins.

"We were going to role out cameras on commercial fishing vessels, based on good science. Obviously it would hold fishermen fisherwomen to account and basically give us good data with respect to by-catch," she said. "The Government has stalled this and they're they ones that need to start working with industry and stakeholders on something that's better, and do it fast."

The Government was "undertaking more reviews and not making decisions" - the produce of competiting interests between the Greens and NZ First, which had close ties to the fishing industry, Dowie said. "The Greens made a whole lot of promises during the campaign with respect to the environment and the protection of endangered species. And then you've got NZ First, which is obviously pulling rank with regards to the fishing industry.

"Somehow they have to reconcile the two and in the meantime, Hector's dolphins are endangered and there needs to be plans put in place to protect the species." Dowie said the fishermen did the right thing under the circumstances, which should be recognised, but the loss of five Hector's dolphins in one go, was "extreme" given the species' critical level of endangerment.

Official records show 188 Hector's and Maui dolphin are known to have been killed in set nets since 1973, but incidents were almost certainly under-reported and the real number was much higher, Sage said. Ahead of the election, the Green Party called for an extension to bans on set nets, and Sage stood by this. While Nash said this incident was an "absolute tragedy" but it was important to take an "evidence-based approach", and weigh up the economic and social cost on the 300 fishers who still used the nets.

Nash and Sage have identified a number of areas where more works needs to be done to protect Hector's dolphins. The range of options includes:

prioritising the development of a new Threat Management Plan for Māui's and Hector's dolphins

reviewing the use of set nets in a bid to reduce or phase out their use

considering extending the ban on set nets in the Banks Peninsula Marine Mammal Sanctuary further offshore

encouraging voluntary closures of certain fisheries to set nets such as those recently put in place by commercial set netters to protect the hoihō/yellow eyed penguin off Southland.

the role of observers and camera coverage on fishing boats

A longer-term review of the Threat Management Plan is underway, which will consider ways to better protect the dolphins from the risks of set netting and deaths caused by other human activity. The review results were due back in August, but Sage had asked for the reports to be expedited, and discussions with stakeholders were expected to start in June.

"In light of this capture, I have asked officials to prioritise the development of a new plan. A revised TMP would include public and stakeholder consultation," Nash said. "There are an estimated 9000 Hector's dolphins off the South Island's east coast, and they are a sub-group of the wider South Island population of 15,000 mammals. Fisheries officials believe the east coast population may be declining."

Fisheries Inshore New Zealand chief executive Jeremy Helson said the industry "regrets this occurrence and that is why we alerted Minister Nash to it soon after we were aware". "The fisher involved is also deeply affected and has moved completely out of the area in which the incident occurred. "We have moved quickly to suggest that MPI bring forward the review of the Hectors dolphin threat management plan along with measures that will help to prevent such an incident happening again," Helson said. "This incident is regrettable, unusual, and upsetting for all involved."

[equatorjournal]

Fosco Maraini, Offshore Hekura, Japan, 1959. "One of the most fascinating but lesser known traditions of Japan is that of the Amasan – which literally translates to ‘the women of the sea’. Honed by years of experience, the Amasan are professional divers who rely on their diving speed, lung capacity, great intuition and determination to succeed.While they dive for seaweed, sea cucumber and sea urchin, abalone is the most prized catch. The term ‘Ama’ dates back to as early as 750 AD and is found in ancient Japanese poetry recorded in the Man’yoshi." From "The Island of the Fisherwomen", 1960. https://www.instagram.com/p/CVvj0xYvO_o/?utm_medium=tumblr