Octopus Fishery in Rodrigues

Marie Claire, once an avid fisherwoman, found herself reluctantly stepping away from the crystal-clear waters of Rodrigues. If left to her own desires, she would have continued diving in the crystal-clear waters of Rodrigues as long as her lungs and bones allowed. However, with two daughters and a family to care for, increasingly crowded shores, and intense competition among fishers vying to supply hotels with seafood, Marie Claire’s once-sustainable job had become untenable. Faced with this reality, she made a strategic decision to shift gears, moving into the local market to process and sell seafood. Her focus, particularly on octopus, proved to be a significantly more lucrative business, given the rising prices of this staple food on the island.

Marie Claire’s roots in the art of fishing are profound. Hailing from a family of fisherwomen, with her mother and grandfather practicing the craft, her father stood out as the only family member without a harpoon or octopus fisher’s boots. Fondly referred to as ‘an habitant’ (from the French habitant, dweller) by Marie Claire’s mother due to his role as a farmer and animal raiser, he was the exception in a family deeply connected to the sea. From a tender age, Marie Claire heeded the call of the coast, accompanying her mother on expeditions to hunt the delicious cephalopod.

Octopus fishing on Rodrigues Island stands as a unique and inclusive tradition, welcoming both men and women. Strolling along the white beaches of Rodrigues, it is not uncommon to encounter women carrying buckets and harpoons over their shoulders, or skillfully zigzagging through the waters to retrieve a beautiful octopus.Their agility and elegance make it look like a simple activity, but octopus hunting requires quick reflexes and highly trained eyes to ferret out the hiding places of these intelligent and shy creatures who champion the art of disappearing into the island’s reef.

Now in her fifties, Marie Claire says she maintains the agility she had as a girl. In the faint light at 4 in the morning, she trots along the coast, light on her feet like a seagull to meet the fishers with their fresh catch. She stops to talk, bargain with a fisherman or fisherwoman, and examine the catch, spread out on the shoreline or hung to dry neatly on wooden poles. Her interactions are not merely transactions; they involve exchanges of pleasantries and familial updates, often ending with a promise to meet in church on Sunday. The bargaining is short, and Marie Claire picks up the octopus to take home.

What has undergone a significant transformation is the coastline itself.The surging popularity of the octopus market has drawn in a growing number of fishers, enticed by the reliability of octopus sales. However, this heightened demand, coupled with intensified competition, has led to a sharp decline in the remuneration of fishers. Ironically, while consumer prices consistently climb—what used to be a half-kilo of octopus for 30 to 40 rupees has now soared to 150 to 180 rupees—there has been minimal improvement in the earnings of the fishers. This, says Marie Claire, “causes fishers to start catching more and more octopus to keep their income stable. Consequently, octopuses are becoming rarer and rarer.” She recalls that growing up, octopuses were abundant and plump, just one was sufficient to make a Sunday salad for a family of five.

On the other hand, the octopuses she sees today are much smaller, perhaps because they are not given time to grow. Alternatively, it could be that they are being caught out of season, contributing to the challenge of encountering larger specimens while diving. In the period between 2000 and 2012, the volume of fishing expanded to such an extent that the local government instituted a biannual fishing ban in January and August, to provide the octopuses with the necessary time and space to mature. Although this measure did show improvement, issues of overfishing and out-of-season catches persisted. In 2022, recognizing the persistent challenges, the government initiated a new campaign to combat this phenomenon. The strategy involved meticulous data recording of catches and fishing activities, along with an extension of monitoring efforts.

The impact of overfishing prompted Marie Claire to abandon diving and instead focus on making a positive contribution to her family and community. Transitioning into entrepreneurship, she embarked on the creation of value-added products using Rodrigues octopus. Operating from her modest workshop, Marie Claire collaborates with her cousins and sister-in-law to expertly dry and prepare pickled octopus, infused with a flavorful combination of red chili and vinegar. These products get sold at the local market.

Creating value-added products not only empowers Marie Claire to command higher prices for her offerings but also allows her to ensure fair compensation for the fishers involved. Simultaneously, the pickling process extends the shelf life of the product, meeting the perpetual demand from consumers, locals, and tourists alike. Through this innovative approach, Marie Claire aspires to relieve the strain on fishers, discouraging out-of-season catches and contributing to the revitalization of the octopus population.

Marie Claire’s products find their way to discerning customers at both the local market in Parc Tortue Village and the larger market of Port Mathuirin. Her clientele comprises local families who never pass up vindaye, a traditional octopus salad on Sundays, as well as local businesses and tourists seeking an authentic taste of Rodrigues.

Among Marie Claire’s valued patrons is Marie Louise, the owner of a local inn called Villa Mon Tresor. Nestled in Anse aux Anglais, Villa Mon Tresor invites both tourists and locals seeking peace and tranquility. Marie Louise serves island delicacies including fragrant fruits and traditional island dishes. Undoubtedly, one of the most popular dishes is cari ourite (octopus curry). Marie Louise prepares it divinely. When cooking, her movements are slow and methodical, lending a feeling of certainty to her actions, which take on an even more solemn aspect when the scent of the ingredients cooking together begins to permeate the room.

She starts by tossing curry leaves, cumin seeds, turmeric powder, peeled garlic, ginger, onion, fresh tomatoes, and–for the well-trained palates–chili pepper, into the pot and slowly stews them. At the same time, she sets about preparing the star of the dish, the octopus. Marie Louise puts it into a pot of water to blanch it, then pulls it out and starts cutting it up.  “It used to be much more difficult to cook octopus. It would stay hard, and cutting it was a pain. Today with freezers, it’s much easier, the meat is more tender,” she says as she cuts off the red, curled tentacles with the knife. Once completed, she tosses the tentacles into a pot with oil until the red color intensifies. At this stage, the octopus is ready to join the sauce and the dish is completed. “The smell and the look makes you eat it with your eyes before it reaches your mouth,” chuckles Marie Louise.

The growth of the octopus market on the island has proven to be an empowering force, especially for women who were pioneers in transitioning from fishing to sales. Thanks to advancements in refrigeration and preservation technologies, these women have expanded their reach, sharing their catch with other islands in the Mauritius archipelago. However, as economic opportunities flourish, so do distortions. A proliferation of unregistered fishers and fish sellers has seriously strained the ecosystem and the fisher’s livelihood.

Women like Marie Claire were the first to recognize the consequences of the surging popularity of octopus and express concerns about the future. Marie Claire emphasizes the need for awareness, stating,  “There is a need for people to understand that you can’t always eat one thing and that resources will run out sooner or later if we are not respectful”.

While Rodrigues’ octopus remains a sought-after delicacy in the archipelago, the relentless pursuit of this prized catch poses a substantial threat to its sustainability– if this intensive hunt continues unchecked, the centuries-long coexistence with Rodrigues’ octopus may face an irreversible end.