Barbados fishing industry still recovering from hurricane consequences

There are few clearer signs of the destructive power that Hurricane Beryl unleashed on Barbados in July than the scene at the temporary shipyard in the capital, Bridgetown.

Dozens of mangled and cracked vessels lie in piles, with large holes in their hulls, their rudders broken and their cabin windows smashed.

However, these were the lucky ones.

At least they can be repaired and returned to the sea. Many others went under, taking with them the incomes of entire families.

When Beryl struck Barbados, the island’s fishing fleet was devastated within hours. Approximately 75% of the active fleet was damaged and 88 ships were completely destroyed.

Charles Carter, owner of a blue and black fishing boat named Joyce, was among those affected.

“It’s been really bad, I tell you. I had to replace both sides of the hull, all the way down to the waterline,” he says, pointing to the now pristine boat in front of us.

It took months of restoration and thousands of dollars to get it back to this point, during which time Charles has barely been able to fish.

“That’s my livelihood, my livelihood; fishing is all I do,” he says.

“The fishing industry is a disaster,” repeats his friend Captain Euride. “We’re just trying to pick up the pieces.”

Now, six months after the storm, there are signs of calmer waters. On a warm Saturday, several repaired boats were returned to the ocean with the help of a crane, a trailer and some government support.

Seeing Joyce back on the water is a welcome sight for all Barbadian anglers.

But Barbadians are well aware that climate change means more active and powerful Atlantic hurricane seasons, and it may be another year or two before the fishing industry is affected again. Beryl, for example, was the earliest Category 5 storm on record.

Few understand the magnitude of the problem better than the island’s fisheries director, Dr. Shelly Ann Cox.

“Our captains have been reporting that sea conditions have changed,” he explains. “The surf is higher, the sea surface temperatures are much warmer and now, at the beginning of our pelagic season, they are having a difficult time catching flying fish.”

The flying fish is a national symbol in Barbados and a key part of the island’s cuisine. But climate change has been harming fish populations for years.

Flying fish are still available at Oistins Fish Market in Bridgetown, along with marlin, mahi-mahi and tuna, although only a few stalls are open.

In one of them, Cornelius Carrington, of Freedom Fish House. he fillets a kingfish with the speed and skill of a man who has been carrying a fish knife in his hands for many years.

“Beryl was like a surprise attack, like an ambush,” says Cornelius, in a deep baritone voice above the chatter of the market, the reggae and the banging of knives on cutting boards.

Cornelius lost one of his two ships in Hurricane Beryl. “It is the first time that a hurricane comes like this from the south, normally storms hit us from the north,” he said.

Although his second boat allowed him to stay afloat financially, Cornelius believes that the hand of climate change is increasingly present in the fate of fishermen.

“Right now, everything has changed. The tides are changing, the weather is changing, the sea temperature, the whole pattern has changed.”

The effects are also being felt in the tourism industry, he says, where hotels and restaurants struggle to find enough fish to meet demand each month.

For Dr. Shelly Ann Cox, public education is key and she says the message is getting through.

“Maybe because we are an island and so connected to the water, the people of Barbados can speak well about the impact of climate change and what that means for our country,” he says.

“I think if you talk to the kids too, you’ll see that they’re very knowledgeable about the subject.”

To see for myself, I visited a secondary school, Harrison College, and as a member of a local NGO, the Caribbean Youth Environmental Network (CYEN), I spoke to members of the school’s Environmental Club about climate change.

CYEN representative Sheldon Marshall is an energy expert who quizzed students about greenhouse gases and steps they could take at home to help reduce carbon emissions on the island.

“How can you, as young people in Barbados, help make a difference on climate change?” he asked them.

After an interesting and lively discussion, I asked the students how they felt about Barbados being on the front line of global climate change, despite having only a small carbon footprint.

“Personally, I’m very pessimistic,” says 17-year-old Isabella Fredricks.

“We are a very small country. No matter how much we try to change, if the big countries – the main producers of pollution like the United States, India and China – do not make a change, everything we do will be useless. “

Her classmate, Tenusha Ramsham, is a little more optimistic.

“I think all the great advances in history came when people collaborated and innovated,” he argues. “I don’t think we should be completely discouraged because research, innovation, technology creation and education will ultimately lead to the future we want.”

“I think if we can communicate to the global superpowers the pain we feel seeing this happen to our environment,” adds 16-year-old Adrielle Baird, “then we would help them understand and collaborate to find ways to fix it.” the problems we are seeing.

For the island’s young people, their own future is at stake. Rising sea levels now represent an existential threat to small Caribbean islands.

It is a point where Barbados Prime Minister Mia Mottley has become a global advocate for change: she urged greater action in the face of an impending climate catastrophe in her speech at COP29 and called for financial compensation from the industrialized nations of the world.

On its coasts and seas, it feels as if Barbados is under siege, grappling with problems ranging from coral bleaching to coastal erosion. While the impetus for action comes from the island’s youth, it is the older generations who have witnessed the changes unfold.

Steven Bourne has fished the waters around Barbados all his life and lost two boats in Hurricane Beryl. As we look out over the coast from a ramshackle beach hut bar, he says the island’s sands have shifted before his very eyes.

“It’s an attack by the elements. You see it devastating the beaches, but years ago you were sitting here and you could see the edge of the water reaching the sand. Now you can’t because the sand has accumulated so much.”

By coincidence, in the same bar where I chatted to Steven was the Home Secretary, Wilfred Abrahams, responsible for national disaster management.

I told him it must be a difficult time for disaster management in the Caribbean.

“The whole landscape has completely changed,” he responded. “Once upon a time, it was rare to have a category five hurricane in a year. Now we have them every year. So the intensity and frequency are a concern.”

Even the length of hurricane season has changed, he says.

“We used to have a rhyme that said: June, too soon; July, waiting; October, all over,” he tells me. Extreme climate events like Beryl have made this idea obsolete.

“What we can expect has changed, what we have prepared for our entire lives and what our culture is built around has changed,” he adds.

Fisherman Steven Bourne hoped to retire before Beryl. Now, he says, he and the rest of the islanders have no choice but to move on.

“Being afraid or something doesn’t make sense. Because we have nowhere to go. We love this rock. And we will always be on this rock.”