KINSENG BUHOL: The Commercial Fishing Vessels in Iloilo Municipal Waters

By Ma. Louiela Angela A. Mataac

As an 8-year-old boy, waking up in the warm embrace of the sun and the muted hymn of large, ceaseless waves while dancing with the sand and weaving its name, docking boats and casting the fishing nets in the coastal waters of Miagao, Iloilo, had been like an unspoken prayer for Jun Naciongayo.

“Kung sa pangingisda lang eh dito na ako tumanda. Mula sa kalolohan ko pa, 8 years old pa lang ako dinadala na ako ng lolo ko mangisda eh. Hanggang ngayon, edi mga 50 plus na,” Naciongayo recalls.

For Jun Naciongayo, a seasoned fisherman for 59 years and now the President of the Municipal Fisheries and Aquatic Resources Management Council (MFARMC) of Miagao, Iloilo, fishing was not merely a livelihood nor a legacy—it is the brine of his existence.

A testament to every knot he tied, dreams of his salt-stained hands, and hopes for each pull of the net.

Each voyage was a renewal of a sacred bond, a life that had never been taken away from him—not until large commercial boats docked in the wearing sea.

“Pumasok na dito yung mga commercial. Talo talaga kami,” Naciongayo asserts.

On December 18, 2024, the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) received the resolution file of the Supreme Court Regional Trial Court (RTC) ruling, granting the petition of Mercidar Fishing Corporation for large commercial fishing vessels to be allowed within the 15-kilometer delineation line for seven (7) fathoms (42 feet) deep within the municipal waters.

This meant for fishermen like Naciongayo to hold on tighter to the fraying ropes between their fingers as a large tide came up to challenge and bear down on their labor.

FIRST TIDE: SOCIOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVE

Since then, the balance has shifted rapidly.

ccording to the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA), Iloilo City reported a significant decline in total fisheries production by 41.1 percent—from 10,731.03 metric tons (MT) in the first quarter of 2023 to 6,323.32 MT in the same period of 2024.

Evidently, the figures show a stark contrast, with commercial fisheries accounting for 42.2 percent of total production in the same year, while municipal fisheries contributed only 34.3 percent.

In the recent data acquired for the 2nd Quarter of 2024, this meant that the commercial fishing vessels had an increased fish yield by 14,074.17. The municipal fishers on the other hand, hold the end of the line with an 8,758.60 number of fish volume production in the same quarter.

As the implications on ground are far more visceral than numbers can convey. For small-scale fishers, these numbers translate into empty nets and shrinking homes.

“Noong araw. Kumukuha kami ng isang banyera o sobra pa, ngayon wala na, tag one-fourth kilo, o tag-limang kilo,” Naciongayo highlights.

This imbalance is exacerbated by disparities in equipment and fishing methods in the uneven playing field. With the entry of the large commercial fishing vessels, artisanal fishers will have to compete with technologically advanced commercial fishing vessels, which could further impact their daily fish catch.

While small-scale fishers rely on passive gears, commercial boats are outfitted with high-tech gear, precision systems, and sonar-guided netting capable of harvesting entire schools in a single catch operation.

Excalibur Seterra, a specialist under the Iloilo Coastal Marine Resources Management Division of the Iloilo Provincial Agriculture Office and a Diving Instructor, outlines the mechanisms and machinery utilized by commercial boats and small-scale fisherfolk.

Commercial fishing operations employ mechanized and highly efficient gear such as the Purse Seine. A ring-shaped net that is capable of locating a school of fish, encircling and capturing the schools of fish with the aid of automated winches, and then zip shut like a purse with mechanical pulleys.

These boats are also equipped with sonar systems and fish finder maps that emit radio signals, bounce the light back to the receiver, and map out the underwater terrain, allowing them to identify fish concentrations and deploy nets with accuracy and efficiency.

A high format of superlight technology further enhances their capability to attract fish and extract marine biomass with careful and extra precision, making it easier to catch fish and marine species using the purse seine.

In contrast, small-scale fishers rely on passive and rudimentary equipment such as gill nets, fish traps, and simple hook-and-line systems—which, more often than not, operate with limited mobility and range.

“These types of gear are ones where you either use lure or bait, or you just allow the fish to swim into your net,” Seterra describes, explaining how these materials are utilized by artisanal fishermen.

However, with passive gear, fishers must locate a school or shoal of fish and then actively surround the small boat with the appropriate fishing equipment.

The bigger the gear they have, the longer the net range—and the more fish the fishermen can catch in tons.

“Ang fine mesh net kasi, pino talaga ang huli ng isda diyan. Kumbaga sa ano—may season lang ‘yon. After noon, wala na yan. So matitigil na naman,” Naciongayo echoes.

Apart from gill nets and hook-and-line systems, another type of artisanal equipment used by fisherfolk in daily catch operations is the fine mesh net.

Unlike other nets, fine mesh nets are designed to catch smaller or juvenile but mature species.

Examples include prawns (Dendrobranchiata), glassfish (Salangichthys microdon), and many others.

Grasping the context, there is a clear line of demarcation between commercial fishing vessels and small-scale fisherfolk.

“In a general and technical perspective, mas efficient yung gear ng commercial fishing vessels, kasi nga mechanical, compared to artisan fisherfolk kasi yung gear niya maliit lang at tsaka kung minsan hindi pa gano’n ka-efficient,” Seterra reiterates.

From machinery to capacity, efficiency, and the systematic nature of labor operations, commercial fishing methods stand in stark contrast.

“Commercial [vessels] are more efficient; they can get more fish. Most of our fisherfolk don’t have these kinds of equipment. In the end, it’s like competing with a gun versus a bow and arrow. If [commercial fishers] get more fish, mas less yung mahaharvest ng mga small-scale fisherfolk,” Seterra adds.

Liberty Espectato, assistant professor at the Institute of Fisheries Policy and Development Studies under the College of Fisheries and Ocean Sciences (CFOS) at the University of the Philippines Visayas (UPV), highlights another critical factor.

To better frame this issue, the Philippine Fisheries Code of 1998 mandates that municipal fishers use boats with a capacity of three (3) gross tons or less, limiting them to simpler equipment as previously discussed.

Meanwhile, commercial fishers are allowed to operate vessels exceeding three (3) gross tons and use active gear such as trawls.

These provisions reflect the law’s intent, under Republic Act 8550, that commercial fishing should occur outside municipal waters.

“The small-scale fishers have less in life; they have lesser capacity. They cannot go beyond municipal waters. Unlike commercial fishers—if fishing grounds are depleted—they can just transfer to another fishing ground,” Espectato emphasizes.

With declining fish catch and limited resources, the widening technological gap continues to push small-scale fishers to the margins.

While some may choose to work for commercial operators, others face heightened risks of economic instability.

SECOND TIDE: ECONOMIC BOTTLENECKS

As Iloilo’s small-scale fisherfolk confront growing economic pressure from commercial vessels encroaching on municipal waters, displacement on both economic and ecological fronts threatens the local fishing industry.

“Kung dati tag PHP220 benta, ngayon tag PHP350. Tumaas ang benta. Naglalaro sa mga PHP300 na,” says Vicente Torrechante, a local fish vendor in Tabayan, Tigbauan, Iloilo, where Miagao fishermen deliver and sell their catch directly.

He noted that the limited changes in fish production – and the corresponding rise in prices – reflect a deeper shift in the coastal economy and environment.

Over the four (4) quarters of 2024, Jerry L. Dolutan, Officer-in-Charge of PSA Iloilo, presents the total fisheries production at PHP3,958,660.83.

Of this, commercial fishing vessels showcased output data of PHP1,856,300.66 with significantly higher production for its annual output.

This far surpasses the municipal fisherfolk experience, with total economic fish produce at PHP1,412,402.46, pointing out that commercial fisheries remain the largest contributor in the economic line of the industry as of 2024.

It appears that this trend is not merely economic but rather existential.

“Ang bili namin ng isda noon 190–200, pagkatapos pondohan yan, ibebenta namin ng mga 240–250. Noong dati palagay natin sa porsyento [ang kita], 80% bumaba ito ng 60%,” Wilfredo, a local fishing vendor in Fishport Iloilo, affirms.

Clearly, as market supply becomes increasingly dominated by large-scale fishing operators, price-setting begins to shift in their favor.

Dr. Wilfredo Campos, a scientist at BioLab from the UPV College of Arts and Sciences, describes the impacts of the entry of large commercial fishing vessels on the economic line of small-scale fisherfolk.

Campos notes in his study that for every 10% increase in fishing activity by commercial fishing vessels, there will be a corresponding displacement of approximately 10,000 municipal fishers.

For instance, considering the daily and basic needs of a single small-scale fishing household of five (5), projections indicate that this is computed by the 10,000 municipal fishers, meaning as many as 50,000 families could face displacement due to this predicament.

Hence, this could destabilize the socioeconomic fabric of communities if large fishing vessels within municipal waters remain unregulated.

In fact, this stands on a staggering 230% increase in the fishing area expanded and used by commercial fishing, much of it impinging on zones legally designated for small-scale fishing operations.

Evidently, the consequences are stark.

“It will increase competition in the municipal waters, so with increased competition, since there are lots of fishers but we have limited resources, then it will result in a decrease in catch, which means decreased income,” Espectato adds.

Meaning, the larger the number of fisherfolk, regardless of whether small-scale or large-scale, the lower the fish tax becomes, considering the limited marine resources.

Now, the decline in fish catch also means a decrease in income.

The term “fish tax” colloquially refers to the fishers’ expected daily yield and has taken on a bleaker tone among fisherfolk.

With dwindling fish resources, so too does their return home.

Eventually, the situation has escalated to the economic aspect.

Seterra, also a stakeholder in the fishing industry, highlights similar sentiments.

Unlike the pricing of small-scale fishing boats that use light gear and smaller boats, the monopoly of prices will spike considering the price demands by commercial fishing vessels.

“People have been feeling it already. When you go to the market, mataas na [ang presyo ng isda],” Seterra affirms.

The crisis, however, is not only about economic displacement, it also translates into poverty.

Dr. Campos further warns that recent figures show that 30.6% of municipal fishers now live below the poverty threshold.

This marginalized sector ranks among the poorest in the country, alongside farmers.

“Small-scale fishers are living below the poverty threshold, sila ang may pinakataas na poverty sector in the country,” Espectato reiterates.

Taking into account the data sets presented, competition intensifies while regulatory oversight remains limited.

Beneath the bustle of daily fish market trading at Iloilo’s coastal market lies a deeper and serious unfolding crisis – depleted marine resources and economic survival.

THIRD TIDE: ECOLOGICAL LENS

Meanwhile, the situation is not only limited to the social and economic aspects of the fishing industry.

The effects on livelihood further resonate with the possible recurrent and worsening impacts of the entry of high-end commercial fishing vessels on the coastal health of municipal waters.

Beyond the economic consequences, the environmental cost poses an escalating threat.

Many of the nets used by commercial vessels, such as trawls, function by scraping along the seafloor to maximize fish catch.

Seterra explains that trawls are notorious for their destructive impact on marine habitats.

Dragging heavy nets along the seafloor often destroys essential habitats for juvenile fish, tearing up biodiversity hotspots such as coral reefs, uprooting seagrass beds and displacing marine life dependent on these ecosystems.

“I have been diving for a long time, and even if I go 70 meters deep, there are still corals there, although of different species. So, if the area has very good coral cover and you allow commercial fishing operators to fish there, there is a very big chance na madadamay at masisira at matatanggal yung coral reef area,” Seterra emphasizes.

PSA notes that municipal fisheries’ share dropped to 19.8 percent, while commercial production increased by 4.2 percent, highlighting the growing dominance of industrial fishing.

Iloilo had the largest decline at 44.0 percent, with only a 12.1 percent share of marine municipal fisheries volume.

This means reef indicators such as abundance, biomass and species biodiversity are experiencing chain reactions—declining fish populations, disappearing species and irreversible damage to natural habitats.

According to Seterra, coral ecosystems are still present at depths ranging from five (5) to seventy (70) meters across various coastal municipalities in Iloilo.

Thus, the fishing range of seven (7) fathoms – or 42 feet – and deeper by commercial vessels poses an imminent threat to coastal resources.

“We’re currently at a fair to good level, but that could degrade to poor if this continues,” Seterra warns, estimating a possible drop from 75 percent to 25 percent in coastal health within municipal waters due to commercial vessel encroachment.

This means that as fish stocks dwindle, the degradation and destruction of marine habitats represent more than an ecological crisis.

The resulting scarcity of fish and marine species threatens social and economic stability.

One key concern is the risk to Marine Protected Areas (MPAs), which face heightened vulnerability with the entry of commercial vessels into municipal waters.

MPAs are designated areas with restricted access to allow regeneration of critical habitats like coral reefs, seagrass beds and mangrove forests.

“So, without coral reefs, wala naman silang breeding ground. It has implications for future reproduction. If there is no breeding ground, then their population will decrease. So, it will result in a decrease of stocks,” Espectato explains.

This indicates that most of the country’s MPAs are located within municipal waters, including those in Iloilo.

According to a 2021 article by Chavez published on Mongabay, 90 percent of Marine Protected Areas are within municipal waters and fall under the jurisdiction of local government units.

“If you allow commercial fishing within municipal waters, this would also affect the MPAs within those waters,” Espectato highlights.

In a relentless pursuit, the destructive fishing methods used by commercial vessels—such as bottom trawling—bring severe ecological consequences.

With 90 percent of MPAs located in vulnerable waters, this not only imperils ecological integrity and coastal livelihoods but threatens the long-term sustainability of marine resources.

TYING A KNOT

“Hindi naman namin inaabuso ang dagat. Bagkus kami pa nga ang nag-aalaga ng dagat, para at least pagdating ng season, magpapakita ang dulong at dilis, may mahuli kami. Kaso lang, ang umaabuso ay ang mga commercial,” Naciongayo shares his sentiments on the current situation.

This highlights that, at the community and local level, the ripple effects are far-reaching.

It extends beyond the economic and environmental paradigm to permanent effects on socio-economic conditions.

Worse, increased poverty, displacement, and a rise in informal labor are likely consequences if the situation is not prevented or regulated.

From a technical perspective, Republic Act 8550 under Section 18 proves that municipal waters are reserved for the preferential use of municipal fisherfolk or small-scale fishers only.

This highlights that, in the spirit of social justice, municipal fishers are prioritized as stipulated in the law.

“Under the fisheries code, there are provisions stating that the local government can permit commercial fishers—only small to medium-scale commercial fishers—to fish within 10.1 to 15 km,” Espectato emphasizes.

The entry of large commercial fishing vessels within municipal waters proves otherwise.

In one case on the Atlantic Sea, unregulated commercial extraction already led to the collapse of entire species.

Seterra recalled one infamous marine situation where an Atlantic trout-like species, similar in size, appearance, and shape to the lapu-lapu or Epinephelidae, was once abundant—but is now extinct due to unregulated commercial fishing.

This cautionary tale eventually prompted the declaration of a closed season.

Regardless of the measures taken, the species has not recovered.

The loss, both ecological and economic, was a permanent repercussion.

“It is a very example of a tragedy of the fisherfolk community—and even worse, hindi ka sigurado kung yung species na ‘yon babalik pa,” Seterra firms out.

In Iloilo, the same threat looms.

With weakened regulations, widening technological gaps, ecological threats, and declining fish stocks, small-scale fisherfolk find themselves in a tightening knot—a kinseng buhol—where survival is bound by forces far beyond the horizon.