The fishing industry is a cornerstone of the Ecuadorian Economy. The rapid increase of Ecuador’s role in the international tuna market over the last 15 years has led to equally rapid urban growth and development in seaports along the west coast.  This is particularly the case in the port town of Manta, the centre of the industry, where the stability of the income provided by large-scale fishing and processing has facilitated the development of tower blocks, schools and shopping malls.

Industrial fishing is carried out mainly by multinational companies, who benefit from concessions given by the Ecuadorian government, and by national investment groups. However, there is a large price to pay for this progress. Fishermen work hard in difficult and sometimes dangerous conditions, all year round. The immigrant workforce has driven down the cost of labour and increased working hours;  as in every rapidly developing community, this has made the cost of basic living rise dramatically.

The majority of fishermen still work on small fibreglass or wooden boats, leave at 4 pm, rarely return before 7 am, and earn an average of around $20 a day. However, most families now have enough money for basic healthcare and school books, and, although no statistics have been compiled, most people agree that children begin to start to work notably later – at 15-16 rather than 10-11 years old.

This burgeoning development could not be further from the reality of life in any of several hundred undeveloped subsistence fishing communities stretching down the southern coast of the country. More than 12,000 families are dependent on the micro-fishing industry, still using traditional onshore netting and trapping techniques, and fishing from small motorboats and canoes. In the tiny settlement of Estero de Platano, only a few hours north of Manta, life has changed little in the last 50 years. Geographical and economic isolation has presented a barrier to the development witnessed in other parts of the country.

The men of the village fish for pipas del mar from 5 am until 9 am; the fish make $3 to $5 each when sold. The fishermen’s lives are slow and quiet, and the rest of the day is spent netting food, cultivating fruit and cocoa in the forest, talking, playing cards and staring out to sea, waiting for the tide to change. Estero de Platano has not fallen victim to any social difficulties, like alcoholism, which have had such a damaging effect on similar communities.

However, the future holds an increasingly bleak prospect for the younger generation. The inevitable northwards creep of tourist-related development from Manta, coupled with the increase in passing traffic, is bringing young people into contact with an ever increasing number of things they cannot afford, yet desperately want – from mobile phones and CDs to antibiotics and shampoo. Efforts to ease the path of development and boost the local economy by national NGOs have been largely unsuccessful; all have now left, disheartened by lack of enthusiasm and progress.

That’s not surprising. In the short term, all the development efforts have meant a great deal of work for less money, and no guarantee of success. Add to this the fact that many of the inhabitants, particularly the women, have rarely, if ever, journeyed even as far as 30 km down the coast to the nearest town, and do not really understand what the NGOs intended to achieve. They live as their parents and grandparents lived, and have no real engagement with or exposure to the process of social change. Change, indeed, has usually meant for the worse – more noisy and messy traffic, more pollution in the sea, more poaching. It seems likely that most of the older generation will be able to live out their lives without any alteration to traditional existence. What the future holds for the youngest is anybody’s guess.