The Thorns We Can’t Swallow

Bangus, our national fish, is as loved as it is feared for its notorious tinik. It’s an odd choice for a favorite, isn’t it? With every bite, you have to pause, fingers picking through the maze of tiny bones. The remedy was simple: a spoonful of rice—and maybe a small prayer that it would work—swallowed whole and downed with water. It’s not the easiest fish to eat; it’s a challenge we accept, a meal that demands patience and skill. Maybe that’s why it’s both beloved and avoided at the same time. You can’t enjoy bangus without first dealing with its thorns, and I think of that now as I consider the lives of our fishermen. Ones that are seemingly caught on that same kind of bone, a tinik lodged somewhere out of sight, the kind that doesn’t easily dislodge.

Each morning, they set out on the waves, chasing the same promise the ocean has offered for generations. It’s a promise bound to tradition, like the woven nets handed down from father to son. Yet, the sea they return to isn’t the same one their fathers knew. Once teeming with life, the waters are now littered with the remnants of reclamation projects and foreign ships that hover like shadows. The fish are fewer, the catches leaner, and the risks greater. It’s as if the very lifeblood of these coastal communities has a tinik caught in its throat—a pain felt but rarely seen.

 

Tradition to Tension

For fishermen like Arnel Lepalam from Palawan, the sea is not only a source of livelihood but a contested battleground. What should have been a routine fishing trip turned into a harrowing nine-day ordeal at Sabina Shoal in October. Lepalam and his crew aboard the FFB (Filipino fishing boat) Hadassah faced relentless harassment from the Chinese Coast Guard (CCG) vessels, a stark reminder of the mounting geopolitical tensions in Philippine waters.

The first encounter came in the early hours of October 9, when Lepalam’s crew spotted a CCG ship maneuvering close to their small fishing boat. By dawn, two speedboats launched toward them, ramming the boat’s outrigger. Out of fear, Lepalam redirected his course back to Bombay Shoal, only to find himself trailed by the Chinese vessels. Their intimidation tactics persisted, even as the Filipino fishermen turned away.

“Dahil dito, natakot kami at binago namin ang aming direksyon pabalik ng Bombay Shoal… Kahit na lumayo na kami, patuloy pa rin silang sumusunod sa amin,” Lepalam wrote in his sworn statement.

Despite the risks, Lepalam and his crew made a second attempt to fish at Sabina Shoal a week later, driven by necessity. Once again, they were blocked—this time by a larger, “gray” vessel alongside another CCG ship. Over the radio, they were warned not to enter the area. “Habang naglalayag kami mga 15 nautical miles northwest ng Sabina Shoal, lumapit ang CCG 4103 at paulit-ulit na nagpatunog ng busina, na nagpipigil sa amin na makapasok sa Sabina Shoal,” he recalled.

“Narinig din namin ang nagsabi, ‘Filipino fishing boat, you are not allowed to enter.’ Hindi malinaw ang iba pa nilang sinabi,” he added. “Dahil sa takot, nagpasya kaming umalis at bumalik sa Quezon, Palawan.” His experience, now forwarded to the National Task Force for the West Philippine Sea (NTF-WPS), is emblematic of the ongoing harassment faced by Filipino fishers in their own waters.

 

 

Beyond Celebration

World Fisheries Day is more than just a celebration—it’s a call to remember the integral role our fishermen play. Fish are one of the cornerstones in the Filipino diet, sustaining families and entire coastal communities. Yet these waters, once abundant and forgiving, now offer less bounty. Industrial overfishing, pollution, and habitat destruction have depleted stocks at an alarming rate. According to the United Nations (UN), over two-thirds of global fisheries are fully exploited or collapsing. Here in the Philippines, this crisis is felt at the shore, where small-scale fishers are forced to venture farther into contested waters just to make a catch.

For coastal communities, fishing isn’t merely a livelihood—it’s heritage. It’s the legacy of waking before dawn, casting nets into the same waters as generations before, a testament to the resilience and continuity of life by the sea. Sadly, even this legacy is at risk. Today is a moment to pause, to look at the dwindling catches, and to realize the depth of the crisis. It’s a reminder that sustaining this heritage demands more than passive hope; it requires urgent action and systemic change.

 

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In the same way that bangus demands patience and skill, our fishermen face a daily gauntlet of thorns: geopolitical tensions, environmental collapse, and foreign vessels encroaching on their traditional grounds. These aren’t obstacles they can simply navigate or swallow like a spoonful of rice. All sea journeys are negotiations with these forces, a reminder of the deeper systemic issues that leave them struggling to provide for their families.

Each day on the water is a reminder of the weight they carry, of the struggles that don’t end with the pull of the net. While World Fisheries Day allows us to celebrate their strength, it’s also a call to action—a chance to remove these thorns, not just ease the sting.

This day should push us toward real solutions, not temporary relief. Let it remind us of our shared responsibility to protect these waters, to support the fishermen’s fight, and to strive for a future where their seas once again promise life and abundance. 

 

Art slider by Natasha Audrey Ordinario