This story is a collaboration between Grist and 9 Millones, an independent news network that amplifies Puerto Rican voices. The videos and photography in this story were supported by the journalism nonprofit the Economic Hardship Reporting Project. Lee este artículo en español aquí.
Tomás Ayala leaps off the side of a small dinghy and into the dark swell of water. His arms slice through the waves like a cutlass as he dives deep into the bay off the southeastern coast of the Puerto Rican island of Culebra. Armed with a spear gun, Ayala swims even deeper as he scans the perimeter of the reef for his target. It doesn’t take long. Mere seconds later, a cloud of blood darkens the water around a large hogfish — proof enough that he found his mark. He snatches up his catch and makes for the surface.
Back safely on his boat, Ayala drops the reef fish into a cooler, guns the motor, and heads for shore. It’s late Wednesday afternoon in mid-May. Ayala has been out since before dawn. The 50-year-old hails from a family of fishers — he started free diving for reef fish, laying lobster traps, and catching octopus when he was just eight years old, following in the footsteps of his brother and grandfather. Before long, he arrives at his destination — a concrete dock leading to a villa pesquera, a “fishing village” or “fish landing center,” a site with key infrastructure for Culebra’s community of traditional fisherfolk. Inside are cleaning stations, freezers, a saltwater tank for storing lobsters, a mélange of other equipment, and a bustling market.
Even as distrust between fishers and the government deepens, the effects of climate change are pushing fishers toward that very system for relief.
Rising seas driven by a warming planet have continued to encroach upon shorelines, wetlands, and coastal infrastructure throughout Puerto Rico. Erosion has been identified in more than a third of Puerto Rico’s beaches. The situation is so dire that in 2023, the Puerto Rican government declared a state of emergency over the issue, a move that included earmarking $105 million in federal funds to implement nearly two dozen measures to minimize the effects. Late last month, Puerto Rico’s Governor Jenniffer González-Colón declared yet another state of emergency over coastal erosion. On May 27, days before the start of the Atlantic hurricane season, González-Colón signed an executive order that described the “critical condition” of erosion as only having “accelerated” because of rising sea levels, storm surges, atmospheric phenomena, and the landscape vulnerability of several Puerto Rican coastal communities.
Since 1901, the average ocean temperature around Puerto Rico has increased by nearly 2 degrees Fahrenheit. This has scrambled the region’s marine biodiversity — killing off coral reefs and seagrass, shifting which species are more abundant, and affecting the quality of the catch. But the surging frequency of intensified hurricanes hitting the Caribbean remains the biggest climate stressor for Puerto Rico’s fishing sector.
In 2017, Hurricane Maria slammed into Puerto Rico as a Category 5 storm, devastating the archipelago and plunging parts of it into close to a year without power. The hurricane was also devastating for small fisheries, which lost an estimated $17.8 million in damaged gear, boats, and shoreside infrastructure, including villas pesqueras. Following the storm, the Puerto Rican government set out to rebuild and reconstruct the fishing hubs with funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency and NOAA, but quickly ran into issues. Aid was repeatedly delayed. Some fisherfolk didn’t receive any federal support for years and were forced to operate in makeshift markets. Others rebuilt, bit by bit, on their own dime.
This is Heading
In 2017, Hurricane Maria slammed into Puerto Rico as a Category 5 storm, devastating the archipelago and plunging parts of it into close to a year without power. The hurricane was also devastating for small fisheries, which lost an estimated $17.8 million in damaged gear, boats, and shoreside infrastructure, including villas pesqueras. Following the storm, the Puerto Rican government set out to rebuild and reconstruct the fishing hubs with funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency and NOAA, but quickly ran into issues. Aid was repeatedly delayed. Some fisherfolk didn’t receive any federal support for years and were forced to operate in makeshift markets. Others rebuilt, bit by bit, on their own dime.
