Why these islanders are hunting dolphins
The call of the shell’s shell was taken away by dolphins from their beds. Under the moonlight, six men moved to a rural church.
There, the priest led them in a whispering prayer, his voice barely sounds because of the sound of the destroying of the waves; The tide was high that day. Salt water collected in parts of the village, which is on the island of Fanalei, all the trembling stain of the earth, which is part of Solomon’s islands in the southern Pacific Ocean.
They paddled in wooden canoes before the first light, breaking through the darkness until they were miles away from the coast. After hours of horizon scanning, one of the hunters, Lesley Fugui, saw the fake sliced glass water. He lifted a bamboo pole 10 feet long with a piece of fabric related to the end, warning the others to his discovery. Then he sent a phone call to his wife. He found dolphins. Hunting would start.
These men are among the latest dolphins on Salomon Islands. Some conservators say slaughter is cruel and unnecessary. But for 130 Fanalei residents, the traditional hunt has taken over the renewed urgency because climate change threatens their home. They say they need dolphins for their lucrative teeth, which are used as a local currency, to buy a country on a higher country and escape from their sinking home.
Each tooth brings 3 dollars of Solomon Islands (approximately $ 0.36) – a price set by Fanalei chiefs – and one hunt of about 200 dolphins can bring tens of thousands of dollars, more than any other economic activity on the island.
“We are sorry for the killing of dolphins, but we don’t really have a choice,” Mr. Fugui said. He would be willing to leave the hunt, he added, if there was an alternative way to ensure the future of his family.
Crops can no longer be grown on Fanalei, which is approximately one -third of the Central Park in New York. The once fertile land was destroyed by the attack of salty water. The Government promoted the agriculture of the sea algae as a source of income, while foreign preservation groups offered money to end hunting. But the ocean remains both an existential threat and the most profitable resource of the locals. Government research suggests that the island could be underwater until the end of the century.
“For a low casual island like ours, we witness our own eyes that the increase in the sea affects our lives,” said Wilson Filei, head of the head of Fanalei.
Over time, dolphin teeth allowed the villagers to pay a new church, the sea wall and the extension of the local elementary school.
During the hunting season, which lasts from January to April, people can kill up to a thousand dolphins here, but the hunters say that time is becoming unpredictable, making it difficult for them to locate and have the substance.
While dolphin meat is eaten and spoiled with neighboring food islands, betel nuts and other products, teeth are a real hunting reward. They are used for cultural activities, and hundreds of potential grooms buy hundreds of them to give a woman during the traditional price of brides.
In recent years, most villagers have escaped to the neighboring island. They continue to hunt dolphins from there, saying that they need to buy more countries to place those who remained behind and support their growing population.
Dolphin hunting is a community affair in Fanalei. When Mr. Fugui raised his flag that morning, Cacophony of pleasure started. The kids climbed the trees to watch the hunters and cheered “Kirio” – dolphin in the local Lau language – so that every resident would know that the hunt had started. Men in canons hanging near the coast broke through the waves into the open ocean to help the hunters form a semicircle around the dolphins and corpse to land.
The teeth, once collected, are divided among each family according to the strict layer of the system: hunters get the highest share (“first prize”); married men who did not participate receive the next largest part; And the remaining teeth are divided among widows, orphans and other households without a male representative.
The village leaders also singled out a part of the teeth in what they call the “Bottle in the Community” for great works. One day, they hope to include the purchase of land to expand the village to move to a larger island of southern Malait.
These shares are an important safety net for residents like Eddie Sua and his family. Mr. Sua was once a skilled fisherman and a dolphin hunter who was mysteriously paralyzed from the door two years ago, and has been in bed since then. These days, during the tide, his home is flooding.
“We have to scare these floods, because it will make us save our lives,” he said, watching Salt water lick on the sides of his bed.
Dolphin hunting is very good or “good interpreter,” said Mr. Sua’s wife, Florence Bobo, in a local Piano language, especially now that her husband is unable to support his family as he once did. They both hope that they will eventually have enough money to move from the island.
“If we hadn’t had a dolphin’s teeth, we wouldn’t have had other choices but to eat rocks,” Mr. Sua joked.
But a successful hunt is never security. After noticing dolphins, Mr. Fugui and other hunters began beating the rocks of the fist size under the water to drive the pod to the shore. But the brakes passed behind them, the roar of his engine was drowning the annoying crowds of their rocks. The dolphins scattered and the men returned empty -handed.
Half this year’s season was just one successful hunt for Solomon Islands, where a village near Fanalei killed over 300 dolphins.
Experts say it is unclear if dolphin hunt is sustainable. Rochelle Constantine, a marine biologist who teaches at the University of Auckland, and the AFIA cabin, a climate and ecological researcher from Solomon Island, said some of the more often hunted species have a healthy population. But the effects of hunting are still not clear on more coastal and smaller dolphins.
For the people of Fanalei, the more burning question is not the future of dolphins – it is their own survival before the growing seas.
“Dolphin hunting may be our identity,” said Mr. Fugui, “but our lives and the lives of our children – this is what is important.”