he current wasn’t strong, but it was unrelenting. A judgmental graysby, a dark brown grouper with Virginia clay colored
spots and a grumpy face, watched me from the top of a coral head. Looking like a corgi in the deep end, I lifted my head and looked to my friends for direction. Clad in colorful buffs, baseball caps, and mirrored polarized sunglasses, they sat a few yards away from me in an old panga. They pointed to the East. Dipping my eyes beneath the surface, I saw nothing but cerulean and the slurry of a few bubbles generated by very distant yellow fins. I kicked on. The graysby, and the two friends he undoubtedly invited for the show, remained unimpressed. I was chasing sea turtle snatchers in the middle of one of Belize’s newly protected marine reserves and I had a long way to swim before I could catch them in the act.
Belizeans are heavily dependent on the marine environment in their backyard. Not only is the reef system a critical piece of Belizean culture and heritage, but it is also the backbone of the country’s economy, particularly the fishing and tour industries. MarAlliance, a marine conservation NGO headquartered in San Pedro, Belize, studies marine megafauna and promotes a conservation ethic through education and outreach programs. The MarAlliance team is currently monitoring shark, ray, and sea turtle populations at two critical atolls, Lighthouse Reef Atoll (home of the world famous Great Blue Hole) and Turneffe Atoll (a newly designated marine reserve).
Before Turneffe Atoll became a marine reserve in 2012, its nurturing mangroves and surrounding reef sites were heavily overfished. Policymakers hope that protecting this atoll will allow local populations to rebound, cradling the spill over effect. The thought is, species will thrive in marine protected areas and eventually seek resources elsewhere, spilling over into neighboring unprotected zones. Fishermen can then fish those unprotected zones, ensuring a sustainably managed natural resource and economy; historically the two must coexist for conservation efforts to be successful and realistic. Georgie Blow and Megan Chevis, graduate students at the University of Exeter in the United Kingdom, teamed up with MarAlliance to investigate the effectiveness of marine protected areas for sea turtle conservation in Belize and to track the movements of turtles via acoustic telemetry (a process which uses satellite tags). To conduct such a study, the two women first had to catch sea turtles. And the best way to do that is with the help of a few skilled turtle snatchers.
Although “turtle snatcher” might muster up some invidious connotations, I can assure you that the men I was chasing after do not meet any of them. Instead, they are members of the MarAlliance fisher team, a group of men selected for their salty skill and unhampered enthusiasm. Many of these men have known each other since they were kids. Some are even family. They’ll casually and playfully spill each other’s childhood secrets without invitation and their goofy attitudes are equally matched with professionalism and genuine interest. I cannot really explain the dynamics of this special team without revealing one of their initiation pranks. During a break between scientific surveys, when they feel that you have a solid sense of humor and have measured up, they’ll casually fill your water bottle with saltwater. Like hungry dogs, they’ll eagerly wait for a reaction. When you take a swig, realize your mistake, and spit it out over the side, the crew will create such a raucous that all other MarAlliance boats in the area will know exactly what just happened. It’s nothing but playful. Once it happens, you can rest assured that you’re in.
All antics aside, the fisher team is completely invested in the study of marine megafauna along the Mesoamerican reef. MarAlliance’s fishers, for lack of a better description, are marine megafauna too. I find it very difficult to paint them any differently. Years of free diving for conch have resulted in some impressive gills. MarAlliance simply would not be able to monitor megafauna species without their expertise. That’s not to say that scientists are inadequate in the field. It’s just to say that these fishers have a more intimate relationship with Belize’s marine environment. Now into their 30s and 40s, they began honing their marine proficiency while children and learned traditional family fishing practices from their fathers and grandfathers. These traditions cannot be valued enough, especially for research in Belize, where until the early 1980s, sea turtles were actively hunted.
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