On a sunny February morning, the women of ten who range in age from between 50 and 60 gather on the sand shores of Akkal Madam beach, located on the Indian island of Pamban Island, carefully bandaging their fingers. With bright blouses and saris and saris, they wrap thick pieces of cloth around each finger, and then secure the ends of their fingers with strings. They take about 20 minutes.
The bandages, as they’ve been discovered they’re the best method to shield fingers from the sharp stones that lie on the seabed while they go diving to find seaweed. They sell it to local factories.
“This is the way we prepare,” says Bhagavathy. “We’ve experimented with gloves before but they disappear in the powerful currents. The risk of injury is so high after your fingertips have been exposed.”
Bhagavathy is aware of the subject she’s discussing. In her mid-60s, her seaweed collection began when the age of seven years old.
(Like other seaweed divers that were interviewed in this article she prefers to be addressed with her name in accordance with the norm in this region).
To prevent the stones from breaking at their feet, the ladies wear slippers made of rubber. They wear goggles because they’ll be in the water for a long time, with frequent diving sessions lasting 2 minutes during a 5- 6 hour time period. They’ve learned the art of breathing deeply when diving.
“It’s certainly not for faint of heart. This is why you won’t find any males here,” Bhagavathy jokes. Other women laugh while they splash into the warm water.
However, modernization and contemporary issues have made it more difficult to make it in this quaint job. The increasing amount of ocean temperatures are creating a decrease in the kinds of seaweed that they collect. In addition the government has now banned extracting seaweed in certain regions to ensure the health of oceans.
They also face difficulties in the home front. Alcoholism among husbands as well as other male members of the family is a significant issue.
Yet, around 5,000 females from this region remain in their determination to dive to find seaweed.
“It’s our primary source of income,” says Munniammal, who is around her 50th birthday. “Our grandparents and great-grandmothers have been with spouses to fishing trips to harvest seaweed as long as we remember. It’s a custom as well as our way of life.”
Pamban which is where women collected seaweed in early in February is a teardrop-shaped, sloping island renowned for its lush marine ecosystem. With over 4,000 species of plants and animals, it’s considered by UNESCO to be one of the world’s most bio-diverse hotspots.
The island is located between the peninsular India as well as Sri Lanka, connected to the Southern Indian state of Tamil Nadu by an interstate bridge and rail that spans an entire mile and a half across the huge Indian Ocean. Coconut, eucalyptus and palm trees are abundant, as well as fishing boats made of wood bob in the turquoise waters for to the extent that one can see.
There aren’t any fishing vessels on the beach in question, however; Akkal Madam is a deserted stretch of sand that has been baked around 8 a.m. when women arrive following a three-mile auto-taxi journey to their home village Chinnapalam. The wind is whipped through their hair and the sun is dazzling.
Women who have come together to collect seaweed from the reefs that are shallow attach white gunny sacks to their hips before dipping into the water. They pounce on sprigs seaweed that is springy, and release these from their sharp rock that they grow on. They briefly surface and then with a quick flick of their wrists, toss the sprigs into bags that are attached around their waists. Without a second glance they dive into the water again. Between 8.30 a.m. to 3 p.m. they’re primarily in the water.
The majority people wear shirts or T-shirts underneath their saris, so that their wet clothes don’t stick to them. The extra layer of clothing adds warmth. The sari silk sari draped on the shoulders of one’s left flow out like vibrant flags as divers cut through the waves. It is cloudy as a result regular bouts of phosphorus and nitrogen, pollutants that cause the development in algae. The currents are strong even on this sunny day.
In sync with the moon and ocean
As with all those who depend on the sea for their livelihood, seaweed divers are perfectly attuned to their environment.
The beach on Pamban Island create their own routine, bringing in seaweed for only 12 days each month. Their schedule is determined through the cycle of lunar cycles. They harvest a week following New Moon (roughly halfway through the month) and a week prior to when the moon is full (toward the close each month). The tides are lower, making the waters are more calm and favorable for collecting seaweed. There’s a time gap for nine consecutive days, allowing the seaweed to grow.
Other seaweed-collectors are from Chinna Palam and Chinna Palam, who are more mature and skilled are able to work in a different style.
They don’t simply collect seaweed along the shoreline. Similar to their foremothers women, they collect seaweed farther out at sea, along the coastline of 21 uninhabited islands scattered like precious stones in the middle of Pamban in Sri Lanka and Sri Lanka. These islands are now part of part of the Gulf of Mannar Marine National Park. The seaweed collection is more lucrative, particularly close to coral reefs. They earn twice the money of those who collect seaweed near the coast. Because they have to pool their funds to purchase boats for this mission and go out to sea just every six months and leave the seaweed in the vicinity of Pamban island for women of older age to pick.
Small groups of people set off at 5 a.m. with a shared motorboat.
Their day starts before dawn, according to Seeniammal who is spreading the seaweed that she has collected to dry in front of her house. In the morning, she got early at three a.m. she made herself tea, cooked a meal for her husband as well as her daughter who is living with them, and prepared some rice to take to eat in the water.
In the early hours of 5 a.m. the woman is joined by four women who are on a motorboat which is operated by a fisherman they are familiar with. Each of them contributes around $1 to ride. It’s about a half-hour ride to the closest island. In the event of a shortage of marine algae, the divers could go to other islands farther away. Once they’ve found the perfect location, they anchor the boat and swim into. Women are immersed in deep water from 3 p.m. Because strong currents can interfere with the work later on. Seeniammal has gathered around 22 pounds of seaweed on this one trip She says that’s almost twice what the women gather near the shores of Pamban.
They typically earn about $6 per day, in comparison to $3-4 for women who live near the shores of the island.
Whatever location the seaweed was gathered or where it is gathered, the process of selling it remains the same. When the women return to their villages and the seaweed is then carefully weighed by the representatives of local factories. Much haggling occurs.
Risks galore: poison fish, dizziness, human attackers, new laws
Staying with this old-fashioned method of earning money carries numerous risk.
The presence of poisonous fish is evident in the coral reefs that surround.
“A couple of times ago, a fish that was poisonous was able to bury its thorns in me,” says Seeniammal. “It is hidden in coral reefs, and we don’t see it in the water. The pain is so intense that you’ll want to be dead. I was taken to the hospital and was treated with an injection. However, I felt weak and confused for a few weeks following the procedure.”
The stonefish believed to have been stung Seeniammal is known as a reef fish that is venomous with 13 spikes of venom. Others women agree that they need to keep an eye out for poisonous jellyfish and stinging fish.
There are also other risks. Women dive in small groups, so that they are able to watch out for one another. A few months back, a 50 year old seaweed collector from the nearby village was killed and raped on a beach that was not accessible to the public.
Women also say that they may experience dizziness during diving. If there’s an accident, seaweed collectors who take boats to their pick-up spots have to all return so that the person injured is treated. This means losing income, however, according to Bakyam aged 40, this is part of a non-verbal agreement: “We constantly watch out for one another.”
In addition, there are legislative hurdles. Since 1986, government officials have declared an official reserve called the Gulf of Mannar Marine National Park. Seaweed extraction within these protected areas was deemed illegal, and a prison sentence of 3 years for those who break the law.
S. Mahendran, a Forest Range officer from the town nearby of Mandapam who has a good understanding of women who dive for seaweed, claims there’s a good reason for the restrictions exist.
“The islands are extremely fragile and eco-sensitive zones,” he says. “There are buffer zone of 6 to 7 inches around the islands, to protect the coral reefs on them. Also, any step on the island could cause harm to its vegetation, specifically it’s medicinal plants as well as wild grass.”
Women are permitted to take seaweed for collection if they don’t cross that buffer line, the official adds. However, since seaweed is growing close to islands it’s an extremely thin line, and isn’t always attainable, the women claim.
This restriction isn’t stopping women from working, according to Pandiammal who is the leader of the village council in the area. “We inform the authorities that we have the right to be able to do this. We don’t have any other method of living.”
Rocky lives above the water too.
I conducted interviews with more than 50 seaweed gathering women. They expressed one major anxiety about their lives once they were not in the water: the men of their local community. They’re mostly fishermen according to the women, they’re dependent on alcohol.
“Both both women and men are struggling to make ends meet. However, men are more likely to spend their hard-earned cash for alcohol,” Pandiammal says. “It’s created our lives above the water as rough like the seabed we have to contend with constantly.”
The fishing earnings of men is wasted -creating pressure on women to go out and hunt for more seaweed in order to make up the loss of income from husbands.
“Alcohol dependence is a massive problem in these parts, and one that authorities are always combating,” says the forest officer Mahendran. “I really admire the determination that these ladies have. They are the ones who must shoulder the weight of all costs after their husbands who have a steady income but have spent all their cash on drinks.”
Many women claim that addiction is more severe from April 15 until June 15, when an official 45 day ban on mechanized vessels which are used by fishermen to ensure that the breeding season isn’t affected. Even seaweed gatherers remain at home, so as to not interfere with marine life. The state government provides every family around $60 to cover the loss of men who fish. However, the income of women is not considered since the female workforce is often unnoticed in a patriarchal society such as India and an cash-strapped government administration fighting a deficit won’t be able to afford it, says Mahendran.
Changes that can be detrimental — and also for the more positive
Around 30 years ago the idea was born to aid women.
In the late 1990s In the 1990s, during the 90s Central Salt and Marine Chemicals Research Institute, which is part of India’s Council of Scientific and Industrial Research was of the opinion that educating women on how to grow seaweed would be not only less risky than collecting it, but would also be more profitable.
An agreement was reached with for-profit corporations to cultivate an unnatural species, called Kappaphycus alvarezii. It is that is found in similar waters located in the Philippines.
A plethora of rafts were put near the shore from Pamban island, filled with seaweed.
However, data ata taken from underwater photographs that was taken in the year 2000 that was released in Current Science from 2008 found that the species that is cultivated is now invasive and drowning coral reefs within the reserve that is protected.
A comprehensive open survey is necessary to determine if the species is truly an invasive species, according to Vaibhav Mantri. Mantri, the senior principal scientist at CSIR’s Central Salt and Marine Chemicals Research Institute. “There exist a number of opposing views regarding this issue,” he says.
While the jury is still out on the cultivation of seaweed but the seaweed collectors have witnessed improvements for the better. The Indian recognition of Forest Rights Act of 2006, recognizes the rights of indigenous communities to benefit from natural resources. Seaweed divers are now given ID cards from the State’s Fisheries Department. One of the goals of the act is to “undo the injustices that have historically took place” to indigenous peoples and to “empower the indigenous communities to make use of resources the way they had been previously.”
100 women who are seaweed divers from Chinna Palam are expected to receive ID cards in the next month. Indian bureaucracy has been blamed for the delay. They will be able to take seaweed from anywhere, without worrying about the consequences. The only thing they’ll have to do is prove that they are part of the same community that has collected seaweed for generations. This is a sort of truce with the native peoples who adored and lived within these islands for 4 generations. It’s also the government’s efforts to protect this marine park, explains Mahendran.
“For we, it’s proof that we’re not destroying our islands.” Pandiammal says. Pandiammal. “We safeguard the islands. If we didn’t have those islands, what would exist?”
The reporting for this story was aided through the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting.
Kamala Thiagarajan is a freelance journalist who is based in Madurai, Southern India. She covers global health, science, and development. Her work has appeared by publications like the New York Times, The British Medical Journal, BBC, The Guardian and other media outlets. You can follow her on Twitter at @kamal_t
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