It’s early morning in the Gulf of California, and an unusual rescue operation is underway.
Standing in waist-deep water and sifting through the mud, the women of the Almejera de Santa Cruz fishing cooperative have halted a commercial dredging operation to save a bank of chocolate clams. Too small to harvest, the women are moving them to a safer part of the lagoon until they reach maturity.
“I approached the workers and asked, ‘Where are your permits? Do you have an environmental impact study?’ says Yanett Castro, president of the all-female co-op. “They were reluctant, but finally they allowed us to go in and rescue the clams.”
It’s something of a quiet revolution for the women in Yanett’s town, located in Altata coastal lagoon, Sinaloa. They have long contributed to the fishing economy but are seldom recognized for their effort.
And it is women, she says, who are most motivated to responsibly manage the fishery. “Part of being a woman is that we naturally seem to care for things more, whether it’s the future well-being of our own family or nature.”
In Yanett’s town, fishing is a family affair. A third-generation fisher, both of her grandmothers were part of the sector. One was a clam collector and the other repaired nets and processed catch.
Today on the lagoon, Yanett’s 12-year-old daughter Violeta helps measure the clams. Her older daughter Vanesa, who is studying to be an environmental engineer, helps record the data.
The men usually choose to fish higher-value species further out to sea, she says, “which has given women a bit of an edge [with clams] because there isn’t as much competition.”
In 2017, Yanet and other local fishers participated in a skills-strengthening program organized by the Environmental Defense Fund. Supported by the Walton Family Foundation, the program is part of the foundation’s strategy to support inclusive, sustainable fisheries while ensuring that fishing communities remain economically vibrant.
Out of this program, Yanett decided to form an all-female fishing cooperative, one of the first of its kind in Mexico. “I wanted women to have legal access to fishing permits. I wanted them to start getting paid for a job they were doing for free. It is fundamental to place a real value on the role that women play in this fishery.”
She formed Almejera de Santa Cruz fishing cooperative. Today it includes “nine powerful women” fishing for bivalves in her lagoon. Yanett also helped other women to form two other local co-ops. The result is that a total of 33 women are now formally recognized by the government as fishers.
One of the biggest hurdles to starting a women’s co-op was convincing women they could formally organize.
“When we first formed, many of the more experienced women said, ‘I cannot believe women can be a part of a co-op, why would I do that?’ Now, they see that by belonging, they can access a different way of life and more opportunities.”
The responsibilities of running a cooperative are significant, says Yanett. “At first, I asked the men how they ran things, but then I realized that the men themselves didn’t have a lot of answers.”
“I didn’t want to give all my responsibility away to an accountant, so I am doing a lot of the work myself – soliciting for permits, setting harvest limits, filing taxes and legal documents and looking for capacity-building opportunities for our members.” Fishermen didn’t want to participate in the biological monitoring of the clam banks because it was not an exciting or paid activity. But women from Yanett’s co-op didn’t shy away and are now responsible for collecting valuable data that is used by NGOs and fishery managers to determine the health of the clam fishery.
Being a member of the co-op offers several benefits to women. Because they are officially recognized as fishers, each woman qualifies to receive an annual cash payment from Bienpesca, a Mexican government program that financially supports small-scale fishers to increase production and improve their families’ livelihood.
But challenges remain in renewing fishing permits and obtaining fair prices for their catch. “A fair price is what women want the most,” Yanett says.
As Yanett has become more confident in her ability to lead others, her advocacy for fishers is growing on a regional – and now national – scale.
After participating in a 2018 panel on the social impact of small-scale fisheries, she and other local fishers realized that they needed to speak up and represent their sector in a more positive light. “I wondered why a guy from the government who knew nothing about fisheries was getting all the applause [from the panel]. Right now, the government speaks for us, but they don’t know us that well. We need to be that voice for the fishing sector,” she says.
During the pandemic, Yanett and three other artisanal fishers launched Trazando el Rumbo de la Pesca on Facebook. They didn’t know how to turn on a computer, but they were determined to learn to keep fishing communities connected during the lockdown.
Then, Trazando el Rumbo de la Pesca focused on spotlighting fishers’ efforts to protect the environment and gave fishers a platform to be the protagonists of their own stories. They are now considering launching a monthly radio program to spread their message to even the most remote fishing communities, where NGOs can’t reach.
Yanett’s ripple effects go beyond her fishing community in Sinaloa. She is now coordinating, with four other fisherwomen, the first national network of women from the fishing sector, called Sustainable Tide or Marea Sostenible in Spanish. They mirrored an effort by her counterparts in Chile.
“The Chileans inspired us. They have been working for a long time and were successful in changing legislation that recognizes women at the same level as men in the fishing sector,” she says. Marea Sostenible had its first meeting in May of 2024 with 130 women from 13 coastal estates in Mexico. Their goal is to have representatives from all 17 coastal states .
Yanett is primarily focused on promoting gender equity in the fishing sector, but also on creating a better future for all the fishers in her community, men and women. “My father used to say, ‘Hey, let’s go fishing,’ without a thought to gender. Fishing is part of our culture and anyone can do it.”
To ensure fishing continues as a traditional and honorable way of living, she says her work today continues to be driven by family. “I’m doing all this for my children,” she says.
“When I was growing up, the whole community used to go out by foot during the low tide to collect clams – men, women, grandmothers, kids. But as clams were overharvested, we had to go further out and dive for them.
When Violeta was born, there were no chocolate clams in the lagoon. But now, after a decade of community-led protection, the clams are back. For me, to work for my fishing community – under the sun and in the water – it’s no sacrifice.”
