Posted on December, 09 2014

Like most fishers engaged in the live reef fish food trade (LRFFT) in Taytay, northern Palawan in the Philippines, Eliseo “Ely” Dandal worries about the future. Specifically, he dreads the day when the suno—the live reef fish he catches, mainly coral trout (Plectropomus leopardus)—may be all gone. “There might come a time when we won’t even see them anymore,” he says in Tagalog. “The next generation should still be able to see what we grew up with, what we lived on, what sent my 5 children to school.  There might come a time when people here won’t even know what suno is.” When he was in his 40s, a catch of 25 kilograms a day was common, he recalls; today, he’s happy to bring home a couple of kilos on average.
 
That’s why the 62-year-old Dandal, born and raised in Barangay Beton, east of Taytay, a 24-year member of the local municipal council and a suno fisherman all his life, is a vocal advocate of the establishment of marine protected areas (MPAs) in his locality.
 
Taytay, one of the Philippines’ biggest municipalities, also remains one of its most productive fisheries; according to a WWF Philippines study. Taytay produced 150,000 metric tonnes of fish in 2012, mainly from fishing grounds in Taytay Bay on the east, which faces the bountiful waters of the Sulu Sea.
 
Generations of destructive practices such as dynamite and cyanide fishing, however, have put the marine resources of Taytay in a precarious state. In 2009, a fisheries management planning workshop on the LRFFT in Taytay, a collaboration between WWF Philippines and local government units, listed as a top priority the identification of spawning aggregation sites, areas where fish gather to lay and fertilize eggs, to be declared and managed as MPAs.
 
For fishers from Beton, the nearest “target” as a proposed MPA is the area known as Black Rock, on the eastern face of the Icadambanua group of islands, 529 hectares of shallow water where turtles, juvenile sharks, mollusks, and reef fish have been recorded. When a coral bleaching episode in 2010 left Black Rock almost untouched, thanks to a favourable location away from the bay that allowed the faster movement of warm water, the move to declare this identified spawning aggregation site an MPA gained further momentum, and is pending as of this writing.
 
“That’s a perfect site, because it’s protected by reefs,” Dandal says. He and his fellow fishermen understand the value of a protected area, especially when it comes to keeping the species alive. “This is our livelihood. The suno live and breed here, so we have to take care of the juveniles.” Enforcement is another important aspect, Dandal says. “Poachers from the outside are the problem. Fishermen like us, we only fish when we’re hungry. The problem is when you get greedy, and want to get more, even on a full stomach.”
 
Dandal credits WWF for putting order into what had been traditional but increasingly unsustainable practices for LRF. “We learned how to correctly culture the fish, how to properly place our nets and cages so the stock stays healthy,” he enumerates. WWF also helped put in place a system of fees to be paid to the barangay based on cage and net size, in order to fill up the village coffers. “After all, when we have a problem, it’s the barangay we run to. We’re all fishermen here, we want to protect what is our own.”
 
It was precisely “protecting our own,” as a concerned stakeholder, that spurred Perfecto “Pecto” Dolliente, a seaweed farmer from Barangay Polaraquen in Taytay, to get involved as the provincial fisherfolk representative for the region, and as the local municipal fisheries and aquatic resources management council (MFARMC) representative. It’s a cause he has wholeheartedly adopted; originally from southern Palawan, Dolliente married a local girl, raised his four children in Taytay, and sent them to school from his income as a seaweed farmer for the last 18 years.
 
Dolliente’s “neighbourhood” MPA, the 165.56-hectare Tecas Reef Marine Park and Fish Sanctuary, was established in 2007 after it was identified as an LRF spawning aggregation site. Located on the eastern side of Taytay, Tecas sustained some damage after the coral bleaching episode of 2010, proof that climate change is as merciless a threat as poachers, cyanide, and dynamite.
 
Now, Dolliente and other local fishers’ group leaders are getting into the nitty-gritty of MPA protection and management. “The MPA has been declared, but not quite organized,” he says in Tagalog. “We’re pushing for a management board, for the day-to-day supervision of the site and the enforcement of rules.” The Bantay Dagat, for example, should be sourced from among the villagers, he says, “for local employment, and also so they understand what they’re doing and why they’re doing it.”
 
It was with WWF’s help, Dolliente recalls, that ordinances were actually put in place for the creation and management of Tecas Reef. “WWF provided policy assistance to the local government unit, helped us craft ordinances; there wouldn’t be any fisheries code and regulations if WWF didn’t help us advocate for them. Now, we have the rules—it’s time to really implement them.
 
“We are fishermen at heart, because this is our life,” Dolliente declares. “We have internalized the purpose of the MPA. We have the conviction to get this done.”