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The Giving Seas Conserving Ecosystems for Healthy Communities

Case Studies

Editors James Kho

Lani Villanueva

Contributing Writers Rupert Mangilit

Zy-za Nadine Suzara Didy Evangelista

June 2017

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Overview This compilation of case studies illustrates the best practices that USAID catalyzed in the eight marine key biodiversity areas that the ECOFISH Project worked in. The case studies are organized according to the same chapters in the main report. In these case studies, national agencies, LGUs and fishing communities worked together to implement management actions that address both ecological and human well-being consistent with an ecosystem approach to fisheries management (EAFM).

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1. LGUs implement early management interventions in municipal waters

o USAID built on what the LGUs were already doing, whether simple or advanced. We worked with them to set their priorities for enhancing their existing initiatives, according to their comfort zone and capacity.

o We listened to stakeholders and gathered basic information. The baseline and monitoring data that we collected were shared with stakeholders to be used in designing or improving management interventions.

o USAID laid the foundation of a more comprehensive EAFM process assoon as LGUs build

confidence from early management interventions, expanding from individual municipalities to inter-LGU cooperation by seeking the support of the provincial government.

In these three case studies, USAID began its engagement with stakeholders in the sites by listening to what they said were their priorities. In Panglima Sugala, USAID had previously started establishment of marine protected areas and was renewing its commitment of support to the LGU. In both Balayan Bay and Lingayen Gulf cases, stakeholders have high awareness of conservation of fisheries and marine biodiversity; these areas have a long history of management interventions, but sustaining efforts have been elusive. USAID worked with the stakeholders to identify an action that had broad support and potential high impact. It provided the forums for discussion to build consensus on goals and tasks, as well as provide the scientific and policy studies to support these actions. In Tawi-Tawi, USAID strengthened support for LGU initiatives for marine protected areas and linked the efforts of various LGUs to rekindle an alliance. For Balayan Bay, USAID built on the science and local knowledge to help forge a consensus on establishing a closed season. This management action achieved many “firsts” in the country: first inter-LGU-initiated and implemented closed season at this scale; first management intervention that incorporated cash-for-work for the affected fishers; first uniform ordinance passed by participant LGUs to implement a common management action. Finally, in Lingayen Gulf, USAID helped revive an inter-LGU cooperation that had once flourished, but then declined in the wake of changing political dynamics. [Tawi-tawi enforcement] Panlima Sugala boasts an impressive number of Bantay Dagat (Sea Patrol), Bantay Santuaryo (Fish Sanctuary Guards) and Bantay Kalikasan (Environmental Patrol) personnel—more than 120 men in total. The town started out with a few Bantay Dagat volunteers. Under USAID’s previous Fisheries Improved for Sustainable Harvest (FISH) Project , the town embarked on a participatory coastal resource assessment of its fishing grounds and coastal communities made the officials and townsfolk fully aware of not only the richness of marine life that inhabit their waters, but also the extent of marine habitats their seas and coastlines house. Eleven of Panglima Sugala’s 17 barangays host sprawling mangroves, seagrass beds, and coral reefs. Of the 11 coastal barangays, 7 were declared Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) in 2006. But while this bade better prospects for Panglima Sugala’s seas, building MPAs entailed setting restrictions on the fishing effort—in particular, dismantling the slats of baklad (native fish corrals) that used to line the protected areas. Nasirin Taraji, now the chair of Bantay Santuaryo guards manning Panglima Sugala’s waters, was among the longtime fishers those who owned baklads. “Many of our fellow fishers resisted the idea. They feared they would lose their livelihood. It was a challenge to convince them to forego their baklads.” The mayor of Panglima Sugala came up with a proposal: why not deputize the fishers as marine guards? Soon after, Taraji and his fellow fishers were patrolling the seas as Bantay Santuaryo. “We gave them honoraria as high as P2,000,” said Salih. “The annual budget of Panglima Sugala allocates a budget for the guards’ honoraria.” Initially still, some of Taraji’s fellow fishers refused to buy the idea. Worse, some of them resorted to more destructive practices, and, as Taraji himself experienced, were ready to inflict harm when caught in the act. “Once, we apprehended a local fisher lobbing a dynamite within the MPA bounds,” said Taraji. “We

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saw him about to pull out a gun. He was fuming mad at us. He thought we [Bantay Santuaryo volunteers] were only securing the areas because we wanted to keep the waters to ourselves, that the MPA grounds were ours alone to fish.” After calming down the erring fisher, “we educated him about the need for MPAs and how it eventually works to their advantage,” said Taraji. Even when his and his fellow fishers’ lives have been put on the line, Taraji believes the risk is nothing compared to the benefits of stronger enforcement: “We witnessed firsthand how the fish gradually increased in volume,” he said. “The mangroves have grown in size and number.” For Panglima Sugala, sustainability of its enforcement efforts would not be so much of a challenge that they are ready to look outwards. For one, he shared they are just steps closer to formalizing the expansion an existing alliance of municipalities with marine sanctuaries along Tawi-Tawi Bay. “Through the facilitation of USAID’s current ECOFISH Project,” Salih said, “the alliance has grown to seven municipalities from just three. If these municipalities would have enforcement problems, we’d be willing to lend our patrol force. The alliance, he added, “will also provide us a venue to share each other’s best practices in enforcement.” Pagpapahinga: Closed Season to Open Minds on Marine Conservation Balayan Bay, a part of the Verde Island Passage marine key biodiversity area, has long been plagued by illegal fishing activities and overfishing due to the continuing rise in the number of commercial fishing vessels in the Bay. Some encroaching of fishing boats come from as far as Navotas and Malabon. Long-time fisherfolk have observed the continued decline in fish caught in the Bay. The problem had become so pervasive that several commercial fishers from Calatagan suggested stopping fishing operations for a while to help the fish regenerate. “Sadyang sa amin nanggaling. Nakikita [ng mga commercial fishers] na ‘pag ipinahinga yung dagat at ‘pag hindi nahuli yung mga nangingitlog na isda, e may chance talaga na dumami yung isda,” Emelyn Custodio, the Calatagan Municipal Agriculturist says. But as she also mentions in another interview, their problem was how to implement it. “Pero kailan dapat? Anong gear ang nakakaapekto? Aling species ang kailangang itigil muna ang panghuhuli?” Local scientists agreed there was a need for a seasonal closure in Balayan Bay. With Conservation International Philippines, USAID, and other partners conducting a study to identify which months of the year and which species would be part of the closed season, Custodio’s questions were answered. The results of the study were presented to the technical working group composed of representatives of the province, municipalities and all stakeholder groups. On the strength of that study, nine municipalities – Bauan, Balayan, Calaca, Calatagan, Lemery, Mabini, San Luis, Tingloy and Taal – decided to let the bay rest (pagpapahinga). On December 11, 2014, the first cycle of the closed season in Balayan Bay began. The closure lasted for twenty days, until December 31, 2014. During that period, no commercial fishing vessels could operate in its waters, giving the galunggong and the matambaka, two species that call Balayan Bay home, time to breed and spawn. This was a very difficult experiment, made even more challenging because the closure fell on Christmas season, when fishing families rely on their meager income to celebrate the holidays. Nevertheless, the affected fishers made the sacrifice. The boat owners could weather the closure because they has savings or other income sources. They crew members were at a loss. The technical working group foresaw this early on and tried to find a solution. With the help of the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD), affected crew members were engaged in a cash-for-work arrangement, where they reported to their LGU to do work related to environmental protection, such as coastal clean-up. In exchange, DSWD provided funds to pay for the work. For the most part, there were few violations during the closed season, with some municipalities claiming zero violations. The success of the first year implementation of the closed season has emboldened the LGUs to continue yearly for the succeeding six years. They also committed to conduct a review of its impact of the closure on fish stocks and livelihoods. In the weeks after the first closure, fishers were

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already reporting an increase in fish catch. There was also many reports that dulong (juvenile fish) was in abundance. Baywatch: La Union’s Fight against Illegal Fishing One of the greatest threats that the Lingayen Gulf Marine Key Biodiversity Area (MKBA) has to tackle is the rise of illegal fishing activities. From destructive practices such as blast fishing, hulbot-hulbot, buli-buli and cyanide fishing, to the intrusion of commercial fishing vessels in municipal and city waters, the provinces of La Union and Pangasinan have long been finding ways to address these issues. In 1994, the two provinces formed the Lingayen Gulf Coastal Area Management Commission (LGCAMC) to coordinate the management of the area. A 10-year Master Plan and a 20-year Integrated Master Plan for the whole of Lingayen Gulf was formulated, but as Dr. Geoffrey Tilan, former La Union Provincial Administrator, experienced, the commission accomplished nothing more than meeting for the sake of meeting. “I was a part of the LGCAMC before so I know what had happened... We meet in order to meet, to agree to meet again and talk about the same problems.” It was no surprise that the commission was eventually abolished due to changes in leadership, lack of funding and weakened LGU support. The desire of the La Union province to continue protecting Lingayen Gulf from various hazards is evident. So much so that when USAID broached the idea of re-activating the inter-agency task force at meetings with the La Union Chapter of the League of Municipalities in the Philippines and the National Economic and Development Authority’s Environmental and Natural Resources Sectoral Committee, there were no objections. And so the La Union Baywatch Network for Sustainable Fisheries (LUBNSF) was born, with the members of the LUBNSF signing the Memorandum of Agreement during the April 2015 Summit on Responsible and Sustainable Fisheries. While its name is inspired by a previous inter-agency task force, its scope is wider in reach and its aims all-encompassing. “We agreed that the coverage will be the coastal law enforcement, fishery management, alternative and supplemental livelihood for fisher folk and their families,” Imelda Sannadan, La Union Provincial Agriculturist says, outlining the main focus of the LUBNSF. “Kailangan talaga may tutok diyan. We need community participation... so maganda yung agreement, maganda yung [components], may livelihood, may enforcement. But this has to be really coordinated,” says Tilan. The LGUs, for their part, are ready to take on the challenges that the LUBNSF will bring. They understand the importance of cooperation among members of the alliance, as well as strictly enforcing and following rules and regulations. Renato Balderas, member of the Sangguniang Bayan of Agoo says, “Pag ma-implement [yung existing rules and regulations], ang laking tulong na yun sa ating Lingayen Gulf MKBA. At kung ganun ang gagawin ng bawat coastal municipalities, I think na, if not totally ma-eradicate yung illegal fishing, ma-lessen.” The LUBNSF is now spearheading the efforts to revitalize the fisheries in Lingayen Gulf. It provides the needed forum for the LGUs to come together to discuss and agree on coordinated management measures.

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2. BFAR, other NGAs assist LGUs by providing enabling national policy framework

o While engaging communities, USAID worked with national government agency partners (including BFAR, PNP-Maritime Group and others) to provide the national policy support to enable and sustain local actions.

o USAID took note of opportunities and expressed the needs of NGAs in performing their role as catalysts and enablers of municipal and community initiatives. The project served as BFAR’s link to partner LGUs and demonstrated how BFAR field offices could play the role in supporting LGUs.

In order to demonstrate best practices on the ground, USAID needed to work with national government agencies to lay the policy and enforcement foundations for local actions. As with engagement at the sites, USAID began by listening to the partner agencies on what they considered as high priority. BFAR expressed the need to balance fisheries production goals with social equity. In order to do that, it had to complete tasks required under the law, such as the registration of fishers, fishing vessels and gear, that are necessary for identifying and targeting beneficiaries of national programs. The PNP-MG wanted to expand its role from the core function of police work to stewards of the environment. The priorities of the partner agencies perfectly matched the objective of USAID to promote an ecosystem approach to fisheries management. In the case studies below, USAID helped bring national attention to Tawi-Tawi, which is among the most remote and poorest areas in the country, but with rich fisheries and coastal resources. Tawi-Tawi proved to be a good testing ground for new initiatives such as DALOY. The case involving conservation of the blue swimming crab in Bohol is instructive for how national programs are rolled-out in the field, which is not always smooth. Local knowledge is important in ensuring that the national programs are suited to the needs and practices of the people that the program aims to serve. Streaming its way to improve enforcement The seas of Tawi-Tawi swarm with snapper, tuna, lobster, and other commercially viable seafood. What people in urban areas get to eat only in fancy restaurants are commonplace around the province’s ports and markets. Saliadal Salih, municipal fisheries officer of Panglima Sugala, waxed nostalgic of childhood, when the seas seemed to not run out of fish. Back then, every fisher would land ashore with buckets brimming with good bounty. Putting food on the table was never difficult. But as if the resources turned in by the seas were still wanting, local fishers went out of control both in terms of pace and method of fishing. “They trawled the sea like it was a bottomless pit of marine life,” said Salih. “[It didn’t help that] fishing boats from General Santos, Cebu, and other nearby cities and towns also encroached our waters.” Likewise, a robust live fish trade industry catering to key cities here and in Southeast Asia has added up to the already excessive degree of fishing pressure. Eventually, fishers learned to lob sticks of dynamite into the waters. When Major Geobani Calle of the Police Regional Maritime Unit arrived in Bongao, he recalled that the blasts were too frequent to go unnoticed. “I would hear every boom from our headquarters,” he said. Hoping to turn the situation around, the local government, PNP Maritime Group, and Smart Communications launched the Dedicated Alert Lines for Ocean Biodiversity (DALOY) (‘streaming’ - in English) in 2014, with Tawi-Tawi as the pilot area. DALOY allows fishers and concerned community members to report cases of illegal fishing through mobile text messaging in real time. The cases are captured in database servers at the PNP Central Headquarters in Manila, and then forwarded for immediate action to phones provided to the local maritime police. The database was also designed to allow for analyses of violation patterns based on type, location, and frequency. The hotline facilitated police response to cases of illegal fishing. “With DALOY, the maritime police became just a text away,” said Calle. “We were able to quickly acknowledge complaints on the ground,

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and, as soon as the complaints reached our phones, we were able to plot a course of action in five minutes or less.” Once, a texter from the northeastern town of South Ubian tipped Calle of an alleged presence of fishers engaging in coral-destructive muro ami fishing. “But South Ubian is 15 nautical miles from the headquarters [in Bongao],” he said. A quick response would be close to impossible. “Instead of travelling all the way there, we coordinated with the mayor and the municipal fisheries officer to investigate.” Major Calle could not be any prouder of what DALOY has achieved for the Maritime Police. Besides facilitating quick response to even the outer island municipalities, the text hotline also yielded a number of successful prosecutions. “Two months after we launched DALOY,” said Calle, “we were able to lodge a case of dynamite fishing before the courts. Two more text-in complaints of blast fishing resulted in actual cases.” Protecting the Blue Swimming Crab of Bohol The blue swimming crab – alimasag in Filipino and lambay in Bisaya – is an important fishery resource in the Central Visayas region, especially in the province of Bohol. It ranks 20th among the fishery commodities and the fourth most important fishery export in terms of value. Ninety-five percent of the blue swimming crab harvest in the Visayas come from municipal fishers, implying small-scale operations despite the size and value of the industry. Even so, there are over 2,000 fishermen dependent on and more than 1,000 boats involved in this particular type of crustacean fishery. The processing sector, where most of the caught blue swimming crab goes, employs over 3,000 people, in addition to the over 9,000 seasonally employed crab meat pickers. “Nabuhay na kami sa paglalambay,” says Manuel Kuan, Sr., President of the Kapunongan sa Gagmay Mananagat sa Jandayan Sur and a crab fisher from Barangay Jandayan Sur, Getafe. “Maganda sana noong araw, maraming lambay noong araw. Ngayon, wala na. Dumami na yung nangunguha kaya kakaunti na yung huli.” Illegal fishing activities and overfishing, including catching juvenile and berried (pregnant) crabs, also contribute to the low catch rates of the blue swimming crabs. “[Yung ibang fishers] kumukuha na maliliit na lambay, kahit ‘di malaki ang lambay, kinukuha nila,” adds Kuan. “Kahit anong size, walang pili. Yun, binebenta nila sa ibang barangay at dinadala sa Cebu.” To get a better grasp of the current state of the blue swimming crab, the Bohol provincial government in partnership with the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources, USAID ECOFISH and the Philippine Association of Crab Processors, Inc. (PACPI) conducted an initial assessment in July 2015. Another study tackled the blue swimming crab’s value chain, which analyzed the crab industry and the players involved in it. The reports found that ninety-one percent of the total catch landings are attributed to crab gillnets (pukot panglambay), crab liftnets (sapyaw) and crab pots (panggal panglambay). While popular, certain issues with these fishing gears have been observed, particularly the mesh sizes of the nets. Nets with too-small mesh size, whether used in the pukot, panggal or sapyaw, will trap the juvenile crabs. Suello explains why this is an issue. “Nalaman namin na yung mga gear na ginagamit sa pag-catch ng blue swimming crab ay dapat i-swap, dapat i-change. Kasi yung ginagamit nila ay maliit yung mesh size sa net. Kung maliliit na lambay na pumasok [sa fishing gear], wala na siyang chance to grow. So isa yun sa mga cause na yun… hindi siya umabot ng adult size, hindi siya pwede magparami.” In response, the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) introduced bamboo crab pots to the crab fishers. Swapping nylon nets with bamboo crab pots seemed like a good idea in theory – it was environment friendly and the sizes of the holes were big enough to let juvenile crabs free – but it failed in practice. Fishers complain that they can only carry a few bamboo crab pots because it took up too much space in their boats; bamboo does not have a long lifespan and is expensive in the long run; they holes were too big, and most times fishers ended with no catch at all.

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A majority of crab fishers sell their catch to PACPI-accredited buyers, ensuring that at least regulations are being followed when it comes to the trade of adequately-sized crabs. Berried crabs are also allowed to lay their eggs in holding cages provided by PACPI to crab fishers. “Kaya nga binigyan sila ng holding cage para doon [yung crabs] tapos bayaran sila kung ilang pieces yung blue swimming crab na nilagay doon,” Suello says. “So magandang strategy. Isa yun sa naka-regulate din na yung mga nahuli ay hindi na ibenta sa iba.” Some of the interviewed crab fishers also advocate for the regulated use of nets – limiting mesh sizes to an appropriate measurement. They also request for larger, motorized boats that they can use to catch blue swimming crabs – their experience has shown that the farther they are from the coastline, the more likely their catch will be composed of larger and more mature crabs, as juveniles tend to gather near the shore. The problem is that unregulated dealers from Cebu and its nearby islands persist in buying the crabs that are less than four inches. “Problema namin dito mayroong bumibili ng mga maliliit, thirty pesos isang kilo. [Dapat] pigilan sila sa pagbili ng maliit para ang mangisda man hindi man sila magdala ng maliit. Lutuin mo yan wala naman yang laman,” complains Kuan. Achieving a balance between the needs of the community and to ensure that resources remain sustainable will always be difficult work. Everyone involved in the blue swimming crab industry has a part to play – from the crab fishers, whose livelihood is dependent on this resource, to the different agencies that implement and enforce the various regulations. For the crab fishers, they have the responsibility to follow whatever rules there are to ensure the sustainability of their livelihood. For local government units and national government agencies, it means properly enforcing the law while at the same time listening to and heeding the needs of the crab fishing community.

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3. USAID facilitates increased stakeholder participation in EAFM

o Empowerment of fisherfolk communities increases participation in governance. Empowerment includes expanding communities’ opportunities for sustainable livelihoods through conservation enterprises. When communities’ basic needs are met, they are in a better position to participate meaningfully in resource management.

o Catalyzing livelihood support and conservation enterprises takes expertise, dedication, and long-term presence. The role of local NGO partners is critical in hand-holding communities towards viable investments.

o The engagement of the private sector through PPP enables faster adoption of technologies and processes that facilitate participation in resource management.

Increased participation is an important principle of EAFM. USAID believes that in order for participation to be meaningful, stakeholders must have the capacity to engage in governance from a position of strength: armed with local knowledge and relevant scientific information, organized around consensus goals, and most importantly, having a level of economic autonomy to counter the perverse incentives brought about by poor governance. USAID promoted the establishment of conservation enterprises to raise the economic status of stakeholders. Our experience shows that when stakeholders have many options for earning a decent living by sustainable means, they have more time to devote to participating in resource management. In turn, increased participation in resource management help ensure that livelihood options are sustained and expanded. They are able to resist short-sighted, unsustainable and illegal means of exploiting the environment. In Matnog, USAID helped generate alternative income sources for women who had organized themselves to care for a marine protected area. USAID used the same strategy of enhancing livelihood options to support community-based management initiatives in Siargao, and in other sites. USAID’s partnership with the Tagbanua of Coron has the added dimension of aligning the conservation enterprise development with respect for cultural values. Empowering Women for Marine Conservation: The Women MPA Guards of Matnog, Sorsogon Subic Beach in Calintaan Island, Matnog, Sorsogon is fast becoming a popular tourist destination, with its long stretch of fine pinkish white sand and aqua blue waters. The beach faces the San Bernardino Strait, a marine key biodiversity area identified as an important habitat for dolphins, whale sharks, dugongs, and pelagic fishes. The exquisite waters of Subic Beach was a traditional fishing ground open to local fisherfolk and even outsiders from other islands. With no existing conservation efforts before the 2000s, illegal fishing practices like blast fishing and compressor fishing went unabated, destroying precious habitats of fish and other marine species, and threatening its rich biodiversity. One of the first interventions to address illegal fishing in the waters that surround Subic Beach was the establishment by the local government of a marine protected area (MPA) in Calintaan Island. Following this, a Bantay Dagat team composed of male community members was also organized to patrol the 138-hectare MPA. Later on, the marine protected area was designated as a fish sanctuary where absolutely no fishing activity is allowed. The marine sanctuary in Subic Beach is now managed by an all-women community organization called Samahan ng mga Kababaihang Bantay Sanktwaryo ng Calintaan (SKBSC). They picked up where the Bantay Dagat left off. Most of the members of the organization used to be stay-at-home housewives. Some of them who knew how to fish helped their husband in fishing. But even before they were organized to manage the sanctuary, some of them have already been involved in guarding the waters of Calintaan Island.

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Editha Mingote, the organization’s president, is one of them. Her husband used to be a Bantay Dagat member. She and Nativadad Francisco, a member of SKBSC, sometimes accompanied their husbands when the team went out to sea. “Wala pa masyadong turista dito noon. Hindi pa kaming lahat ang nagbabantay ng dagat. Dati, kami lang dalawa ni Ate Vidad. Kami talagang dalawa ang magkasama dyan dahil ang aming mga asawa ay miyembro ng Bantay Dagat. Kapag nagbabantay ang aming mga asawa, sumasama kami.”, she related. (“There weren’t many tourist here before. Not all of use were involved in the Bantay Dagat. It used to be just me and Ate Vidad. The two of us were together in it because our husbands where members of the Bantay Dagat. Whenever they when out to patrol the sea, we went with them.”) Initially, these two women simply wanted to assist their husbands in their mission. Since they were already aware of the Bantay Dagat’s objective, they joined in warding off or apprehending intruders who fished inside the marine sanctuary. Their presence was appreciated, so much so that they eventually slipped into the role of spokespersons for the Bantay Dagat. They took on the task of explaining to fishers why they were asked to leave, and why fishing was prohibited inside the area. Their calm, non-combative approach was an asset to the Bantay Dagat. They were always able to prevent heated exchanges between them and stubborn violators whenever they intervened. More importantly, the mission was always accomplished. They successfully convince intruders to leave the sanctuary. Mingote and Francisco continuously volunteered with the Bantay Dagat team for close to three years. As they observed the positive impact of the Bantay Dagat’s work, their desire to protect the seas run deeper. Joining the Bantay Dagat was no longer about assisting their spouses. Mingote began to realize that much depended on healthy seas. “Naging interesado kami sa pagbabantay ng dagat kasi maganda iyan. Kapag nakikita mo na dumadami ang isda, syempre marami ring pupunta dito. At kung maraming pupunta dito, magkakaroon kaming lahat ng income.”, she explained. (We became interested in guarding the sea because this is good for us. When the fish become abundant, many people will visit us. And if many people come, that means we will all have income) Thus, when the women of Calintaan Island were organized in mid-2016 through the help of the USAID, Mingote became the organization’s leader. Together with Francisco and other members of the organization, they are now at the forefront of community-based efforts to guard and manage the marine sanctuary. “Binabantayan namin ang mga isda na hindi makuha. Binabantayan rin namin ang mga mangingisda na hindi makapasok kasi bawal mangisda dito. Tapos iyong mga corals, kailangan namin ingatan na huwag galawin para maging mas maganda ang tubo nila. Kasi di ba iyon ang nilalapitan ng mga isda at doon nagiging marami ang mga isda?” Francisco said. (“We protect the fish from being caught. We also guard the area against fishermen because fishing is prohibited here. We also have to take care of the corals so the would grow well. That is where fish go and spawn, right?”) Imbued by a new sense of mission, the women of Calintaan spend every single day on Subic Beach keeping the long coast clean and the waters free of intruders. They take turns in patrolling the marine sanctuary. Three times a month, a team ventures out of the cove in a small non-motorized banca. They want to be sure that no one from their community or intruders from other barangays are fishing within the sanctuary. USAID sought to empower the women further by giving them opportunities to earn income, while still performing their protection role. Through a partnership initiated by the USAID, SKBSC received various livelihood assistance and capacity building programs from the local government unit of Matnog, Sorsogon, the BFAR and TESDA. Through TESDA and USAID, they received trainings for wellness services, banquet preparation and souvenir shirt making to enhance the services they provide for tourists. They were also awarded fiberglass boats and seaweed farming inputs from the BFAR. In addition, USAID provided them trainings in leadership, values formation and organizational development.

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According to them, their individual incomes have already increased, thanks to the wellness training. It allows them to make use of idle time while guarding Subic Beach in the summer months when tourism is at its peak. “Malaking-malaki ang naitulong ng pagmamassage sa aming kita. Mag lumago ang kita namin mas malaki ang naitutulong namin sa aming pamilya dahil dito.”, Cordero shared. (“The massage business greatly increased our income. We make more money now and this allows us to help our families more.”) It all begins and ends with protecting and conserving the marine sanctuary. Their incomes would not increase if there were no tourists visiting Subic Beach. Tourists would not visit if there were no fish inside the sanctuary. There would be no fish inside the sanctuary if they would not patrol the waters of Calintaan Island. The women of Calintaan are very much involved in steadily and slowly transforming Subic Beach from an illegal fishing site into an eco-tourism destination. Having witnessed the negative effects of illegal fishing in their waters, it is no wonder these women take marine protection seriously. With their empowerment came the collective realization that a sustainable future lies at their hands. “In the past, people did not value Subic Beach. There was dynamite fishing here. That was before it became a sanctuary. Now - since it became a sanctuary - we see a different types of fish in the sea. The corals have also grown. It is very important among us locals to protect the sea because this is our treasure. When we grow old, this is the same treasure we will bequeath to our children. That is the reason why nature, and especially our sea, is very important to us.”, Cordero added. [Surigao] When Fisherfolks Dream

In the coastal town of San Isidro in Siargao Island, the locals know of the strong tourism potential of one of

their villages - a mangrove area where a beautiful lagoon is located. Tourist activity has not spilled over to

this fifth class municipality, from the town of General Luna, Siargao Island surfing paradise. But the local

government and the residents of San Isidro collectively dream for ecotourism to boom in their sleepy town.

Not lacking in environmental awareness, community members even have concrete plans on how to go

about this - from developing a lagoon to building a zipline in the area to draw visitors in. If this is realized,

then making a living will no longer be limited to farming and fishing. The hope comes with the resolve to

free their waters from the plague of illegal fishing. Cyanide and dynamite fishing practices, and the

encroachment of commercial fishing vessels has partly kept fisherfolk trapped in poverty, as they compete

with outsiders for a better catch.

Although they were quick to say that none of the locals of San Isidro engage in cyanide or dynamite fishing,

there are intruders who use these illegal fishing methods in their waters. Because of this, the local

government unit of San Isidro is doing what it can with what little resources it has to combat illegal fishing -

from organizing a Bantay Dagat team to giving out pamphlets detailing national and municipal fisheries

laws and the penalties against illegal fishing violations. And since fisherfolk are aware of the negative impact

of illegal fishing coral reefs, they have supported their local leaders. Some of the town’s coastal

communities have volunteered to help the Bantay Dagat.

Unfortunately, catching illegal fishers is a huge challenge. They only have a non-motorized boat, one that

cannot match the size and speed of the fishing vessels that encroach in their waters. Because San Isidro

faces the Pacific Ocean, big powerful waves hit their coast, and the Bantay Dagat’s lone boat will not stand

a chance.

“Ang kailangan namin ay sasakyang pandagat na panghuli sa mga illegal fishers. Ganoon talaga ang

problema”, said Flor De Guzman, a member of the Sangguniang Bayan. (“What we really need is a boat

that we can use to catch illegal fishers. That is the problem.”)

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Despite these challenges, the local government and community organizations like Tigasao Fisherfolks

Association (TIFA) and San Isidro Women’s Association (SIWA) continue to do what they can in order to

protect their waters and conserve their marine resources. For instance, TIFA worked in close partnership

with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) to establish an artificial fish sanctuary

where fish and other species could spawn. The DENR also assisted the TIFA register with the DOLE as a

people’s organization (PO) so that they can receive funding for this project.

“Gusto naming i-preserve ang karagatan namin, para sa susunod na legal na manghuhuli ng isda,

maraming makukuha”, said De Guzman. (“We want to preserve our waters, so that the next generation of

fisherfolk who legally fish will be able to get plenty of catch.”)

Catching fish is prohibited in the sanctuary when it is spawning season, a rule that requires sacrifices from

the small fisherfolk who do not make much in the first place. Considering that they cannot fish during the

amihan season, or the northeast winds, which occur from November to March, many fishers like the

members of TIFA turn to farming during this time. The town of San Isidro was once known as Siargao

Island’s rice granary. Unfortunately, even when fishers shift to rice farming, they no longer make enough

income from it.

San Isidro, however, is blessed with majestic coconut trees which could a source of alternative livelihood

for the community. Thus, the assistance received by TIFA was a welcome support. ECOFISH linked the

association with the Philippine Coconut Authority and they were trained in coco coir production. Coco coir

is a material has a variety of purposes, including but not limited to gardening, horticulture, and furniture and

upholstery making. In San Isidro, it is most commonly used to to protect slopes and prevent soil erosion.

Aside from the coco coir production trainings from PCA, TIFA will also receive a complete set of equipment

to enable them to establish an enterprise. Early this year, they already received a decorticating machine,

the first among the set of machines used to process the fiber extracted from coconut husks.

Meanwhile, SIWA also received similar training and equipment assistance from PCA through the help of

USAID. SIWA, an all-women community organization, is comprised of 110 members. These women have

no stable source of income, given that many bear the responsibility of taking care of their families and their

homes. In the villages, this traditional family set-up meant that they had a lot of free time in their hands. To

pass the time, they admitted that they usually play tong-its, a type of card game that factors in bets.

“Kaya dito kami umaasa sa coco coir (“That is why we are banking on coco coir”),” said Daisy Lordina, a

member of SIWA.

SIWA’s coco coir production facility has yet to be completed, but they already received the coco coir

equipment from PCA. While they worry about the exposure of the machines to the elements, the group has

expressed their excitement about using the machines to make coco coir twine. As they continue to practice

their new skill, they have already come up with a number of things they want to work on soon. The women

want to pool the initial income they will earn from producing coco coir as capital to expand and diversify

their enterprise. They also want to pursue handicrafts training as five of their members have been already

been trained in twine making by USAID in Alegria, a municipality in mainland Surigao del Norte.

Both the leaders of TIFA and SIWA have expressed their desire to have all of their members undergo the

same training and actually produce handicrafts. They plan on selling these as souvenirs, which is part of

their overarching goal of building up San Isidro as an ecotourism attraction. Given the town’s proximity to

General Luna, which sees hundreds of domestic and foreign visitors annually, this aspiration is quite

attainable.

Aside from the coco coir making skills they learned, TIFA and SIWA appreciate the organizational

development and financial management trainings provided by ECOFISH. According to Daisy Lordina, these

will be a big help to them if they are able to proceed with their plans to develop eco-tourism in Barangay

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Tigasao. She also said that the SIWA already has set up its own small souvenir shop, although the products

they are currently selling are not made by them, but rather purchased from other shops.

While the women jokingly dismiss this livelihood opportunity as a better preoccupation than playing tong-

its, their stories belie their desire to make a living and to improve their quality of life. In fact, one member

proudly admitted that she always “scans” the documents given to them during the capacity building activities

provided by USAID. She keeps these files neatly, a skill she learned when she was trained by USAID in

records keeping.

Underneath San Isidro’s sleepy surface, where livelihood opportunities are too few and local fishers

constantly compete with outsiders for a better catch, the locals continue to nurture dreams of a better life.

Unlike other dreams, however, their ambitions are deeply anchored in the knowledge that they need to

protect and conserve their environment to improve their quality of life.

As de Guzman said, “Iyon talaga ang papel namin. Bantay dagat, bantay gubat, trabaho talaga namin iyon

(“That is our role. We protect the waters, we protect our forests. That is our job”).

Coron - Tagbanua After a lengthy legal battle that began in the 1970s, the Tagbanua, indigenous people of the Calamianes Island Group, were finally issued the Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT) in 2004. With this title, they now have the legal right to administer their ancestral domain, while also fulfilling certain responsibilities. “Sa pagiging CADT holder, meron kaming tatlong major na responsibilidad... para sa kapakanan ng komunidad, sa pagsulong ng interes at karapatan ng mga katutubo. Una doon yung pagrespeto sa kultura at tradisyon ng katutubo, yun ang aming finofocus na i-centralize. Yung ecological balance, maintain reforested and renewed area atsaka observe the rules and regulations implemented by the local government,” says Fidel Mondragon, Tagbanua elder and former Chairman of the Balik Calauit Movement (BCM). USAID, seeing how the Tagbanua could play an important role in protecting and preserving the environment, made an offer to support them. After much consultation with the elders of Coron and Calauit communities, USAID was granted ‘free and prior informed consent’ to provide assistance on several programs and projects that would positively impact the Tagbanua’s way of life. The Tagbanua are appreciative of the respect afforded to them by USAID in helping them implement a project that not only celebrates their culture and traditions, but also preserves it for the next generations. “Nandoon yung malaking pag-respeto nila, pagkilala sa kulturang meron dito sa lupaing karagatang ninuno,” Agnes says. “Tinignan kasi kung ang mga naka-design ba doon [sa t-shirt] ay hindi siya nakakasira sa aming kultura at hindi siya lumalabag doon sa aming mga pamantayan.” The partnership between USAID and the Tagbanua, especially the Calauit Island community, has proven to be very fruitful. The katutubo found someone who was willing to help them implement their plans for their community, while USAID was able to further their objectives and goals through the Tagbanua communities. But like in any partnership, it is a two-way street where both parties are expected to pull their weight. It cannot be just USAID doing all the work, or vice versa. “Para maging sustenable, yung pagtanggap ng pamayanan, ng komunidad sa isang responsibilidad na pahalagahan ang proyekto ng ano mang gawaing na-ipundar ng katuwang ng USAID,” muses Mued. “Ang isang tinitignan kong dapat mabigyan talaga ng pansin ng pamayanan para maging sustenable ang pagpapahalag sa proyekto at ang responsibilidad pa nito na magtuloy-tuloy.”

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4. National agencies work with LGUs to adopt and implement EAFM for their shared fisheries management area

o Early management interventions are not sustainable in the long term withouta framework for

cooperation and coordination across agencies and jurisdictions. USAID and National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) helped BFAR design a program to mainstream EAFM as the framework for achieving common goals in managing fisheries and coastal

resources, even as agencies and LGUs play differentiated roles. o Enforcement is critical. While voluntary compliance is ideal, positive and negative incentives

(including cultural influence) shape the desirable behavior that is consistent with sustainable

use and equitable access. USAID helped build the technicalcapacity of BFAR and police

enforcement units to enhance fisheries law enforcement. As partner LGUs and national agencies settle into their complementary roles in resource management and improving the lives and livelihoods of fishing communities, USAID introduced the EAFM framework and a process to develop and implement a EAFM plan specific for their defined fisheries management area. By this time, stakeholders are already familiar with the EAFM goal of balancing ecological and human well-being through good governance. EAFM becomes an organizing framework for systematically tying together components that stakeholders have been implementing in parts. Introducing EAFM is not so much replacing what they know, but providing a name to what they were already doing. The case studies on the South Negros alliance and Siete Pecados Marine Park show how good governance in fisheries management and marine biodiversity conservation works at different scales. In both cases, strong champions catalyze and sustain the management initiatives. However, champions can come and go. Long-term sustainability requires building the institutional infrastructure for cooperation, and ensuring that there are sufficient resources to carry out the management actions that stakeholders agree to do. In South Negros, LGU technical and financial support are crucial; in Siete Pecados, revenues from tourism are plowed back to ecological and social benefits. The success of these two cases has become an inspiration to other sites that have replicated or adapted their strategies. Navigating the Politics of Fisheries: Inter-LGU Alliances in the South Negros Marine Key Biodiversity Area Two decades ago, the intrusion of commercial fishing vessels in the municipal waters of southern Negros Island was a huge problem. At that time, the local governments units (LGUs) were on their own, each with a limited capability to stop large vessels from getting closer and closer to their coasts. As the scale of commercial fishing operations in municipal waters grew, so did dynamite fishing and illegal mangrove cutting become rampant in the coastal towns of Negros Occidental. In Negros Oriental, the same problems were made even more complicated by the involvement of politicians in commercial fishing. The earliest attempt to solve these problems was initiated by local government units and the provincial government of Negros Occidental. In June 1996, five LGUs formed an alliance called the South Negros Coastal Development and Management Council. The five member LGUs were the cities of Kabankalan and Sipalay, and the municipalities of Ilog, Cauayan and Hinoba-an. They forged a common strategy to halt the intrusion of commercial fishing vessels and to curb dynamite fishing and illegal mangrove cutting. The composition and structure of the SNCDMC, however, was modified in 2003. Since then, three participating LGUs namely Sipalay City, Cauayan and Hinoba-an have remained active members of the council. At the heart of the SNCDMC is a technical working group (TWG) that serves as experts of the inter-LGU alliance. They recommend programs and projects on coastal and upland reforestation, enforcement of fisheries and other environmental laws, establishment of marine protected areas and environmental

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awareness campaigns in coastal communities. They also act as frontliners who execute council-approved programs and projects in their respective municipalities. The set of technical experts that make up the SNCDMC TWG is one important asset of the South Negros alliance. The provincial government consciously capacitated them since coastal law enforcement was critical in addressing the massive intrusion of commercial fishing vessels in municipal waters. The trainings and complementary manpower it provided was later on augmented by a technical assistance program and funding support from the GTZ. “The provincial government took care of us from the start. The first executive director was the governor, and the local government units saw that the governor’s commitment to this advocacy was very strong. The provincial government trained and handheld us for about 8-10 years. I think that is the reason why we are strong. Before the technical support of PEMO (Provincial Environment Management Office) ended, the frontline officers of the local government units were already mature and strong.”, Ami Ambagan, SNCDMC Treasurer, explained. It is not just the competence of the TWG members that has made the alliance effective in carrying out its mission. The camaraderie of these local experts also holds the TWG together, sustaining the existence of the alliance itself despite periodic changes in local politics. “The expertise of the TWG is there. We have been working together for a long time and we know who among us are the experts in the field.”, Raymond Villanueva, SNCDMC Vice-Executive Director, said. Over the years, the alliance has made strides in coastal law enforcement. The TWG successfully pushed the passage of relevant fisheries-related ordinances, conducted underwater assessments and established marine protected areas with the technical expertise they have built. They also took charge of educating stakeholders in coastal barangays and in downloading relevant programs to them. These accomplishments have garnered even more support from local chief executives that in spite of political differences, they choose to remain with the alliance. The TWG facilitates inter-local cooperation, allowing municipalities to better manage their long, continguous coast. Mr. Bolo, SNCDMC Provincial Bantay Dagat Coordinator, shared: “They have seen the success of the alliance, that is why officials no longer want to withdraw from it. They would rather join the bandwagon and stick to its path, because they know that if they withdraw from the alliance, no one will help them.” The TWG is also innovative in their approach to local governance. By building marine conservation constituencies on the ground, and by leveraging stakeholder participation, they managed to insulate the alliance’s environmental agenda from vested interests that run counter to it - a challenge that was difficult for other alliances to surmount like its counterpart in Negros Orienatl, the Coastal Law Enforcement Council of the 3rd Congressional District. The Negros Oriental CLEC was formed in 2006, a decade after the SNCDMC was established. Patterned after the Bohol CLEC which was formed through the assistance of a USAID program called FISH (Fisheries Improved for Sustainable Harvest), the district-wide alliance of Negros Oriental is composed of the city of Bayawan, the municipalities of Basay, Sta. Catalina and Siaton, the provincial government of Negros Oriental, coastal law enforcement agencies (PNP-MG, PCG and Philippine Navy) and other partner agencies namely BFAR, DILG and DENR. The CLEC had a joint seaborne patrol program funded from contributions of participating LGUs and financial support from the provincial government. Aside from seaborne operations, the council used its funds to pay for the salaries of the LGU enforcement teams. This enabled participating LGUs to conduct patrols within their municipal waters. The CLEC also provided various trainings to capacitate the enforcement teams of member LGUs.

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For nine years, the Negros Oriental CLEC strived to become apolitical. The alliance did not allow elected officials to become officers of the council. Presumably, it was meant to limit political pressure in coastal law enforcement due to the involvement of some politicians in commercial fishing businesses. Patronage politics in the fisheries sector plagued the province of Negros Oriental. It often played out when apprehensions were conducted and local elections were near. Even though the district-wide CLEC did its best to remain neutral, it was steeped in a political reality that made it difficult for the alliance to achieve its mission. Furthermore, while the provincial government was a member of the council, the CLEC did not enjoy sustained support from the provincial government compared to its counterpart in Negros Occidental. Though the member LGUs of SNCDMC similarly had different levels commitment to fisheries and coastal resource management, the alliance did not grapple with messy politics. Furthermore, the provincial government supported the LGUs that were lagging behind by providing the manpower and technical assistance to troubleshoot problems that arose. As Ambagan said, the provincial government of Negros Oriental remained supportive until the alliance was ready to stand on its own. In May 2015, the LGUs of Bayawan, Sta. Catalina and Siaton withdrew from the joint seaborne patrol program. According to Faith Napigkit, former chair of the Negros Oriental CLEC, a contribution of Php200,000 seemed too much for the other LGUs. “The first reason why we decided to disband is the amount of Php200,000 was preventing the smaller LGUs from joining the alliance. Since 2006 all the way up to 2015, We were the only active LGUs in . The other LGUs wanted to join but they cannot afford to contribute Php200,000 every year. It was peanuts for the city of Bayawan because we had Php800,000 allocation for CRM, but for the smaller LGUs, this amount is too much.”, she explained. The withdrawal of the three LGUs prompted ECOFISH to facilitate a review of the Negros Oriental CLEC’s memorandum of understanding (MOU). A plenary workshop was conducted to unpack the issues of the CLEC and explore options to reorganize. it was revealed that aside from political challenges, participating LGUs also had different levels of commitment to fisheries and coastal law enforcement. The Negros Oriental CLEC envisioned each participating LGU to have a municipal fisheries law enforcement team (MFLET), but not all of its member LGUs were able to maintain a functioning one. The other LGUs also did not have their own patrol boats and were dependent on the patrol boat of Bayawan. While Bayawan City accepted the role of the being the alliance’s lead LGU, the biggest stumbling block, according to her, is the periodic changes in membership of the MFLET particularly in Sta. Catalina. “We were the lead LGU so it was expected that they were learning from us. We accepted the role as the lead LGU and whatever we know, we’re supposed to teach the partner LGUs. We were ready for that kind of burden and we understood the responsibilities. But I think the toughest problem was every election particularly for Sta. Catalina where every three years there was a new mayor. Then once a new mayor comes, he changes the entire team so we had to train new ones again. There was no continuity. That is one of the stumbling blocks.”, she said. The frequent turnover in membership of the MFLETs was not just a problem of continuity. It also severely hampered the ability of the Negros Oriental CLEC to develop a solid group of technical experts who could steer the council in the direction it wanted to take. “They terminate the entire team and then we’re back to square one. We had to organize another training for them. We have to start again from the very beginning because they do not retain people - not even one - from the old group.”, Napigkit pointed out. In contrast, the SNCDMC’s TWG members have remained the same since the alliance was formed.

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“The success of the alliance lies on the TWG. It is really the TWG that is the strength of the local government units.”, Ambagan said. The TWG thrives on a healthy kind of competition to pressure each other to deliver results. Nevertheless, when challenges arise, they will always be ready to assist each other. The Negros Oriental CLEC may have ended, but there is hope that the South Negros marine key biodiversity area (MKBA) will not remain in peril, captive to the self-interested politics that permeated its fisheries sector for the longest time. The local government units of Negros Oriental are exploring ways to reorganize, and in neighboring Negros Occidental, the SNCDMC continues to lead the sustainable development of the MKBA. The Fall and Rise of the Siete Pecados Marine Park Observers and stakeholders of the Siete Pecados Marine Park would say that the turning point of the park was when Super Typhoon Yolanda hit Palawan in 2013. Super strong winds and waves swept away the park’s facilities – the guardhouse, the buoys that delineated the park’s territory and the patrol boats – and revealed just how much it had been neglected in the preceding years. In the time before Yolanda, Siete Pecados was already considered a success, having been a part of the FISH Project, another USAID funded initiative that ended in 2010. From a disaster zone, where corals were ruined and the fish gone because of illegal fishing activities such as dynamite fishing and the use of cyanide and sodium, it was made into a marine protected area. Through the efforts of the local government unit and the support and assistance of the local community, illegal fishing activities almost disappeared and life slowly came back to the area. But despite systems in place – a management plan and an environment fee collected from tourists to help keep Siete Pecados maintained and sustainable, it fell victim to corruption and disrepair. According to officials, the period between 2010 and 2013 was when the park was the most neglected. An indication of this was how there was no effort to safeguard the park’s facilities even when news of the super typhoon were already coming in. “So yun, nag-initiate yung USAID. Binigyan tayo ng fiberglass boat dito sa Siete Pecados,” Jojo Mazo, the park’s manager, describes the efforts done to rehabilitate the marine park. “Gumawa [sila] ng paraan kung paano gagalawin ang pera from municipal government [at] dalhin dito sa project.” The money he mentions are the fees collected from tourists who had visited the Siete Pecados Marine Park. It was placed in a fund and left unused for several years because nobody knew how to access it. “Naumpisahan for the first time in eleven years, naumpisahan yung paggalaw ng pondo ng coastal resource management [CRM] fund into actual rehabilitation of projects. Dati i-stock i-stock lang siya kasi hindi alam yung proseso. Parating iniiwasan [galawin] yun kasi nabibuwisit sa bureaucracy.” The rehabilitation efforts also activated the Siete Pecados Marine Park Management Committee. Chaired by the Mayor of Coron, members of the committee also include the Municipal Agriculturist, the Sangguniang Bayan Committee Chairman and representatives from the Palawan Council for Sustainable Development (PCSD), Sangguniang Kabataan, Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) and the Fisheries and Aquatic Resources Management Council (FARMC). They make the decisions needed to ensure the smooth operations of the park. The Siete Pecados Marine Park has improved greatly in the succeeding years after Super Typhoon Yolanda let loose its wrath on the Calamianes Island Group. The number of tourists continue to rise, as seen in the park’s growing income. For the period of June 2015 to December 2016, they reported an income of Php 3.6 million, and in the first ten days of 2017, collected about Php 120,000, not including other receivables owed them by local tour operators. The fees collected from tourists allow the park to become sustainable, with 40% of the income going to park maintenance, 20% for the development of Barangay Tagumpay, where Siete Pecados is located,

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another 20% for the CRM fund, and 20% for the municipal fund. Former Sangguniang Bayan member and one of the proponents of the municipal ordinance that formed Siete Pecados’s management plan, Cliff Astor, says “Ang munisipyo, walang binibigay sa Siete Pecados. Since [time] immemorial, ang ponding bumabalik sa Siete Pecados, diyan mismo galing at ang tulong ng ECOFISH. Kumikita pa [nga ang local government] sa amin.” For his part, Coron Municipal Agriculture Officer and Siete Pecados Management Committee member Geronimo Gevela appreciates how the Siete Pecados management is very open about the state of its finances and how the park operates. “Yes, transparent. Kita mo na yung kinikita ng Siete Pecados ay malaki na talaga.” He also commends how active the MANCOM has become in running Siete Pecados. “Nagkaroon na tayo ng bagong council, dumadaan sa council yung approving, kung ano yung gusto nating ipatakbo. Hindi katulad dati na kung ano lang ang masabi sa barangay, yun na yun. This time, lahat consulted with them, yung council.” By closely adhering to the park’s management plan, Siete Pecados has put in place a system that helps diminish opportunities for corruption and neglect. A member of Coron’s Sangguniang Bayan, Mario Buensuceso, reflects on how much has changed in the management of Siete Pecados – “Malaki po yung pinagbago, kasi unang una, nagkaroon ng sistema. Lalo na sa pag-employ ng tao. Kasi unang-una, hindi siya basta mae-employ kung hindi nag-undergo ng training para supposed to be mapangalagaan yung mga bisita, turista... alam nila ang dapat gagawin.” Employees of the marine park, whether performing administrative duties or serving as park rangers, are chosen by drawing lots and only serve for a set period of time. “Maganda yung nangyayaring resulta kasi parang sa bawat [resident] ay nagiging part ng [Siete Pecados],” Gevela says about the park’s system of determining the members of its workforce. With the influx of tourists, other livelihood opportunities have made themselves available to the residents of Barangay Tagumpay. Fisher folk have converted their fishing boats into tour boats and offer tour guide services to visitors. One of the tour boat operators and sometimes park ranger, Bobby Ortega, has even innovated the services he offers, developing a glass-bottomed boat that allows non-snorkeling tourists to appreciate the different wonders of the underwater world. Mazo says that they are preparing to introduce more glass-bottomed boats into the park, but only after finalizing rules and regulations. And indeed, such rules and regulations are needed, especially if the number of tourists visiting Siete Pecados continues to grow. Although January 2017 was just the start of the peak season, the park already saw a record number of visitors and more are expected to arrive once summer begins. Currently, there is no limit to the number of tourists and boats that can visit the park at one time, and if the trend continues, allowing this to remain unchecked can have severe repercussions, not just on tourism, but more importantly, on the park’s ecosystem. Al Linsangan, one of Coron’s tour operators, observes the same. “Ang trend ng tourist is hindi pababa, pataas. So ang tendency nila is congestion. So ‘pag tourism kasi is [the] experience should be good. Later on, ‘pag may congestion, nagbubungguan na kayo... hindi na pleasant. So nandun yung isang pwedeng tignan ng management kung saan sila pwede mag-expand [ng areas]. Expand or limit [the] schedule.” There is also the concern of saturating the tourism industry itself – with an unregulated number of tour services, there might come a time when there are more boatmen than there are tourists. It’s a situation that can be easily remedied, as per Linsangan. “Kung nakikita mo na may isang industry na nangyayari, ang pwede mong gawin is, what are the complementing livelihood na magsu-support doon? Pwede silang mag-tie up. Yung mga taga-doon, mag-tie up sa ibang operators, mag-offer ng snorkeling tours. Pwede silang magkaroon ng community-based tours, not competing the local, but complementing the operators.”

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Residents of Sitio Maquinit in Barangay Tagumpay are already taking the first steps towards diversifying their sources of income. They’ve organized a cooperative that will introduce and implement various livelihood programs and have begun the training needed to equip themselves with the skills they will need to become successful. Buensuceso says, “Yung kooperatibang iyon, nagkaroon ng seminars tungkol sa gagawin na livelihood, yung pagdadaing, yung mga [services] sa tourist. Lahat ng ‘yun ng seminar sila. Marami namang nag-training. At mayroong fund na ni-request din galing sa Siete Pecados Fund na kung pwede makapag-use na panimula nilang puhunan para maisakatuparan ang kanilang livelihood.” Astor observes how the marine park has helped improve the nearby community. “Tumaas ang income ng Siete Pecados, tumataas din ang kalidad ng buhay ng mga tao kasi naeemploy sila.” Improvements in the area surrounding the marine park have also been seen, including the planned installation of solar powered street lights on the road leading to Siete Pecados. But it’s not just the barangay that has benefitted from the windfall brought in by Siete Pecados. A portion from the park’s funds was used to repair the Coron School of Fisheries Annex, as well as building a faculty lounge and sponsoring some of the salaries of the school’s new teachers. “Kailangan ibalik namin sa tao [yung pondo],” says Buensuceso of the different initiatives. And even more money is earmarked to go back to the community. Previously, no one knew how to use the contents of the CRM fund, where 20% of Siete Pecados’s income goes. Only a portion had been used for the park’s rehabilitation post-Yolanda while the rest continued to languish in the fund’s account. “Yung coastal resource management fund, nagtambak siya ng nagtambak, Php1.6 million na hindi magalaw-galaw,” Mazo recounts. “Through the help of ECOFISH...binago natin yung batas, together with the people, pinarte-parte natin yun. May parte ng youth, may parte ng women, may parte ng senior citizen, fisherman, boatman.” Once the measure has been approved by the barangay and the municipal ordinance passed, the money will be distributed according to the plans they have. The priority, according to Mazo, are the senior citizens, with Php50, 000 allotted to them to supplement their rice trading fund. With such great improvements in the park’s management, Siete Pecados has become an example for other marine protected areas to follow. Other administrators of MPAs in Coron and neighboring municipalities, such as Busuanga, are challenged to replicate the achievements of the marine park. Astor says, “Sila mismo ngayon, gusto nilang mag-establish ng marine park. Bakit? Model nila ang Siete Pecados. Ang challenge sa kanila, ‘Kaya nga ng Siete Pecados, wala namang white sand diyan! Sila nga na kaya nila, tayo pa? At mas marami tayong corals.’ So lahat sila ngayon may challenge, kaya natin. Namulat yung tao, hindi lang Coron, even yung munisipyo na malapit sa atin.” And as part of the Calamianes Group of Islands Marine Protected Area Network (CMN), Siete Pecados is contributing all it can to ensure that other MPAs succeed. Aside from being the destination for study tours, where officials of other MPAs visit the park and learn as much as they can about Siete Pecados and its operations, Mazo, who is also the CMN Chairman, says that they are allotting funds from Siete Pecados for the network’s general fund. “Iminumungkahi din natin sa ibang batas ng province na mag-create din sila ng CRM fund para hindi lang ang Siete Pecados ang pwedeng mag-give, kung hindi lahat.” Astor agrees. “They’re earning eh, gumanda rin naman yung ibang lugar, yung MPAs nila is... at least may katuang ang Siete Pecados na ibangon yung ibang marine park.” For all that the Siete Pecados Marine Park has achieved, there are still a lot more that they need to do. One issue plaguing the park is the solid waste that drifts into their territory. The complaints from tourists have been endless, and while the park rangers and volunteers spend a huge chunk of their time

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collecting, their efforts have not been enough. Cleaning up the waters will need a community-wide effort, not just from residents of Barangay Tagumpay, but from the whole town of Coron as well. There is also the concern about preparing the next generation to take over managing the park. But with the track record of Siete Pecados – from its tumultuous beginnings, with residents skeptical of its potential benefits, to transforming both the waters and the community, there is no doubt that there will always be someone to take over the cudgels for the Siete Pecados Marine Park. Linsangan, who has been a part of the park’s transformation in both private and public capacities, says, “Personally, with the Siete Pecados experience, yung tinatawag na sustainability model na design is totoo. Na-reaffirm sa akin. Kasi when you protect the environment, you protect Siete Pecados and you mobilize the people, engage the people in that vision na, alagaan natin ito, you ensure the economic benefit. Sustainability is real kapag ganun yung approach mo. Yung hindi galing sa top to bottom, it’s a bottom-up approach. Yan yung miracles can happen if you let them.”

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5. EAFM lays the basis for, and shows early results in reducing fishing pressure

o Eliminating IUU fishing is the key to reducing fishing pressure. IUU fishing depletes fisheries resources and destroys habitats. USAID catalyzed multi-sectoral cooperation and collaboration to combat IUU fishing, particularly through compliance promotion.

o • EAFM provides the framework for reducing, and eventually eliminating, IUU fishing by addressing the well-being of affected stakeholders while still pursuing the protection of fragile habitats and depleted fisheries.

IUU fishing is a major cause of fisheries stock depletion and destruction of marine habitats. It is not always easy to convince fishers to abandon the practice they are accustomed to, even if faced with proof that the practice is destructive. In the case of the ban against liba-liba (Danish seine and modified Danish seine), the operators insist that their fishing method is sustainable. BFAR found circumstantial evidence otherwise, and decided to impose the ban as a precautionary measure. BFAR offered incentives for operators to shift to other gear, but despite of that, the liba-liba operators chose to sue BFAR to challenge the ban. In the PAPSIMCO case, the community was aware of the damage they cause by destroying the mangrove forest. On their own, they decided to abandon the practice, even though their livelihoods depended on the mangrove harvest. The livelihood assistance initiated by the government and development partners provided alternative sources of income, also coming from the mangroves, but not through direct harvesting. Mangrove crab fattening takes advantage of the mangroves as home for the crabs. The healthier the mangroves, the more crabs can be raised. The elimination of illegal mangrove cutting gave way to healthier a ecosystem and community. Swimming Against the Tide: The Challenge of Eliminating Liba-liba in Surigao del Norte Illegal fishing is rampant in the province of Surigao del Norte. Small scale fishers resort to blast fishing, cyanide fishing and the use of beach seines to catch more fish, while commercial fishers have traditionally used a highly destructive gear called Danish seine in their fishing operations. Danish seine, known in Visayas and Mindanao as liba-liba, is an active fishing gear which consists of a conical net with a pair of wings. The ends of the wings are connected to a rope embedded with sinkers that serve as a scaring device, with hauling ropes passing through a ring permanently attached to a tom weight. The gear is hauled by a mechanical winch. According to BFAR-CARAGA, the liba-liba was not originally used in Surigao del Norte. The use of the gear was adopted from commercial fishers from provinces like Cebu and Masbate. Since they fished in the waters surrounding Surigao del Norte, some of them eventually settled in the coastal towns of the province. From there, commercial liba-liba operations began to grow. Commercial and small-scale liba-liba operations then became rampant in the neighboring municipalities of Placer and Bacuag. The use of liba-liba in commercial fishing operations was not originally prohibited. Prior to the ban imposed by national government in 2013, liba-liba operators registered their fishing vessels with the MARINA while the fishing gear was registered and licensed by the BFAR. The shift in national government policy was based on studies done by the BFAR and the NFRDI. These studies revealed that the gear causes damage to coral reefs because the tom weights are dragged along the reefs before the nets are finally hauled into the boats. Aside from the immediate damage it causes to the reefs, the use of the gear contributes to biodiversity loss. Small, non-commercially valuable fishes and other marine species are caught by the gear and disposed of immediately, leading to wastage and a decrease in future economic productivity. Part of the policy development process done by the fisheries agencies were the consultation meetings with small fishers in areas where liba-liba operations were rampant. Small municipal fishers who use simpler gears have complained about having little catch as they compete with small and medium scale liba-liba

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operators who illegally fish within municipal waters. The disparity in fish catch volumes was a related issued that had to be addressed. On September 2013, the BFAR issued Fisheries Administrative Order (FAO) No. 246 banning the operation of liba-liba nationwide. The BFAR conducted house to house information dissemination to cascade FAO No. 246 to the ground. Coastal LGUs in Surigao were also involved in the IEC campaign. Liba-liba operators were given a grace period of six months to change their gears. In the course of that period, the BFAR-CARAGA QRT monitored whether the fishermen shifted to using legal types of gears. Some fishermen complied with the law, but others were unwilling to shell out money to purchase new and legal fishing gears. Large-scale liba-liba operators tried to circumvent the law by scaling down operations and modifying their gears which only increase the number of small-scale operators in Surigao del Norte. “Kinonvert ba nila. Instead na malaki, niliitan nila ang pump boat para hindi makita. Dumami tuloy yung maliit na liba-liba kesa sa malalaki.”, Jeffrey Paelmo, a member of the BFAR-CARAGA Quick Response Team (QRT) pointed out. (“They converted the fishing vessels. Instead of using big pump boats, they use smaller ones so their operations would not be obvious. There are more smaller liba-liba operations than big ones.”) Meanwhile in Manila, an association of liba-liba operators based in Navotas contested the BFAR directive and filed a petition for TRO on the implementation of FAO No. 246. The Regional Trial Court of Navotas granted the injunction. The ruling, however, was overturned by the Supreme Court. It ruled in favor of the BFAR and upheld the ban on the use of liba-liba or danish seine. “Kumuha ng TRO iyong association ng Navotas fishers kasi talagang against sila dyan. Nakakuha sila ng TRO sa regional trial court ng Navotas para i-TRO iyong banning. Kaso lang, hindi nila alam na kapag environmental law, under the rules of procedure for environmental cases, Supreme Court lang ang pwedeng mag-issue ng TRO. So iyong TRO ng Navotas RTC, na-TRO ng Supreme Court.”, Director Nilo Katada, BFAR-CARAGA regional director explained. (“A fishers association in Navotas filed a petition for TRO because they were really against the ban. They were granted a TRO by the Regional Trial Court of Navotas. What they didn’t know is that when it comes to environmental laws, under the rules of procedure for environmental cases, only the Supreme Court can issue a TRO. So the Supreme Court issued a TRO on the TRO issued by the Navotas RTC.”) Despite the national ban, the use of liba-liba persists. An operator from Placer said that liba-liba operations continue in Manila and other provinces like Leyte. For a time, they shifted their operations to Leyte when the Supreme Court lifted the TRO against the implementation of FAO No. 246. “Paglabas ng injunction, patuloy sila, kaya kami patuloy rin dito sa Surigao. Pero nakakuha rin ang BFAR ng injunction at natuloy na rin talaga iyong batas, pero sila doon sa Maynila patuloy ang kanilang operations pati sa ibang probinsya.”, he said. (“When the injunction [against the ban] was issued, they continued their operations that’s why we also continued our operations here in Surigao. But the BFAR was also able to get an injunction, and the law had to be implemented. Even then, those in Manila and other provinces continued their operations”). “Tumigil kami pagkatapos kaming sinabihan ng BFAR. Pero kailangan rin namin maghanap-buhay kaya pumunta rin kami sa Leyte para mangisda. Liba-liba rin ang gamit namin doon. Sa katagalan at dahil sa malayo ang Leyte, naisip namin bakit kailangan doon pa nangisda. Meron namin kami dito.”, another operator added. In Surigao del Norte, the towns of Bacuag, Gigaquit and Claver also continue to be plagued by it, and liba-liba operators feel no remorse over the destruction of reefs and spawning grounds. From their point of view, the environmental damage caused by the gear is negligible compared to serious effects of mining in the province of Surigao del Norte.

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“Tapos sabi naman nila sa BFAR na makasira daw ito sa kalikasan. Sa tagal na namin, hanggang ngayon, meron pa rin kaming nahuhuli. Kung talagang nakakasira, dapat sana wala na kaming makukuha. Pero kung sinasabi nilang makakasira sa kalikasan, mas mayroon pang matindi sa aming nakakasira pero tuloy pa rin ang operation. Bakit kaming maliliit lang ang… Dayuhan naman ang nakikinabang. Bakit iyong kaming taga-rito, hindi kami pwedeng makinabang iyong nandito para sa amin? Kasi kung tutuusin binigay na sa Panginoon yan para mabuhay tayo. Eh bakit pagbabawalan? Hindi naman biglang milyon ang pagkakakitaan namin?” (“The BFAR told us that it destroys the environment. We’ve been in this business for a long time and we still get to catch fish. If this really destroys the environment, there are others who cause more damage but whose operations continue. Why are they are after small businesses like us. Foreigners benefits from our resources. Why can’t locals like us benefit from the resources here. The Lord provided those resources so that man can live? Why is that prohibited? It’s not like we would make millions from it.”) A liba-liba fishing business is lucrative, and as such, fishers and fishing operators engaged in it are not willing to give up the use of the gear. Though starting a liba-liba fishing business requires a huge amount of capital, operators are still able to recover the costs of their investment given the efficiency of the gear. According to two liba-liba operators, they are able to catch 10 boxes of fish on a good day. Each box contains 40 kilos of fish or 400 kilos of fish in one fishing operation. A 40-kilo box of fish is sold for Php2,000 pesos. Thus, they earn a gross income of Php200,000 pesos. BFAR and local government officials, however, doubt this estimate pointing out the possibility of actual fish catch volume being underdeclared. Liba-liba fishing vessels encroach in municipal waters especially when enforcement teams are not visible in the coast. Liba-liba is made for shallow waters which is usually within municipal water boundaries. Thus, a concomitant issue in the use of this gear is the encroachment of commercial fishers in municipal waters. Even though the BFAR has its own quick response team that works in coordination with other coastal law enforcement agencies, the burden of enforcing the ban heavily falls on local government units. USAID initiated forging an inter-LGU alliance called Claver-Gigaquit Bacuag (CLAGIBA) Coastal Law Enforcement Cooperation. The three municipalities signed a memorandum of cooperation (MOC) that provides for the coordination of their efforts and resources for stronger implementation of coastal laws against the use of liba-liba, illegal intrusion of commercial fishing vessels as well as other destructive fishing methods. Under the MOC, each municipality will allocate funds for coastal law enforcement activities such as operations, legal assistance and honorarium. Nevertheless, eliminating liba-liba operations in Surigao del Norte goes beyond lack of resources and limited enforcement capabilities. While inter-LGU cooperation address resource limitations among local governments, both the national and local government face a set of inherent governance challenges that needs to be reformed. For instance, the lack of accountability on the part of coastal law enforcement officers hampers the filing and adjudication of cases against liba-liba operators. This is a recurring problem according to the BFAR-CARAGA QRT. There have been successful apprehensions of liba-liba fishers in the past, and the success of it was largely due to the reinforcement provided by the Philippines Navy and/or the Philippine Coast Guard to the BFAR-CARAGA QRT. The apprehension, however, did not lead to prosecution as the BFAR-CARAGA QRT failed to file a case against violators. A case was not filed for the simple reason that no one in the inter-agency enforcement team was willing to sign as the apprehending officer. In the end, the violators left scot-free. The successful implementation of FAO No. 246, therefore, does not depend solely on strong fisheries and coastal law enforcement, but also on plugging the gaps in government implementation. It also needs to be underpinned by a change in mindset on the part of commercial fishers who reel in a good catch from liba-liba operations - a challenge that is always part and parcel of every shift in government policy. Mechanisms of cooperation are already in place at the national and local levels of government, but convincing violators to become marine protection advocates is like swimming against the tide and eliminating liba-liba from the waters of Surigao del Norte is still a challenge at least for now.

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The Mangrove Conservationists of Brgy. Siit, Siaton Lush mangrove forests surround Tambobo Bay, a scenic cove in the sleepy village of Brgy Siit in Siaton, Negros Oriental. With a view of Mt. Talinis and the Cuernos de Negros mountain range, the bay has attracted foreign travellers who live for extended periods in yachts moored inside the quiet cove. Tourists have also started coming to the area. A community-based organization in Brgy Siit would like to take advantage of the mangrove forests potential for ecotourism. The organization is known as PAPSIMCO, and the members saspire to turn the expanse mangrove area under their stewardship into an ecotourism park. This vision was quite unimaginable in the past. The mangrove-covered coast of Tambobo Bay was once a denuded area. Tourists and travellers visiting may never be able to tell that it took PAPSIMCO over two decades to successfully reforest the area. Illegal mangrove cutting was rampant in Brgy. Siit. Didy Bundokan, PAPSIMCO’s current chairperson, said cutting down mangroves and selling them as firewood was one of the few means of livelihood in the village. Mangroves were preferred over charcoal because they burn longer and are readily available to the villagers. “Cutting mangroves used to be the means of livelihood of some villagers. They would chop the wood and sell them by the meter. Back then, mangroves were used as firewood and there was a local demand for it.” Mangroves were cut down for other purposes like constructing houses. In the hot summer months, when grasslands in the coastal village were dry, the leaves and soft branches were fed to cows and carabaos. The villagers’ heavy dependence on mangroves for many years thus led to the massive deforestation of Brgy. Siit’s mangrove areas. “The situation was terrible. The mangrove forests were nearly gone”, Bundokan added, recalling one dry summer when she and a few other members of PAPSIMCO noticed the tremendous loss of mangroves in their barangay. Because mangroves are vital habitats for fish and other marine species, the decimation of mangrove forests in Brgy. Siit eventually affected poor villagers who relied on fishing. Due to the loss of spawning grounds, fishers observed that they were no longer able to catch fish, prawns, and crabs in the lagoon near the mangrove areas. Bgry. Siit’s small fishers suffered most. The environmental consequences of mangrove deforestation was made even worse by an oil spill accident that occurred in Tambobo Bay in the early 1990s. Fish, prawns, and crab did not significantly reappear in Tambobo Bay until the mangrove areas were rehabilitated. The reforestation of Brgy. Siit’s coastal area began after the Tambobo Bay oil spill accident. The DENR implemented a program called community-based reforestation project or CBRP. Palinpinon-Palayuhan-Siit Multipurpose Cooperative, a community organization that Bundokan now leads, was one of the fisherfolk groups organized by the agency in 1994 as a community partner in the reforestation project. While DENR did not offer monetary incentives for replanting mangroves, each household member of PAPSIMCO was awarded a certificate of stewardship, establishing a long-standing partnership between the government and PAPSIMCO in rehabilitating and protecting Brgy. Siit’s mangrove areas. Since becoming formally organized, PAPSIMCO received various land-based and fisheries-based livelihood assistance projects from government and non-government organizations. PAPSIMCO members received many skills development trainings together with the livelihood projects. Sustaining the projects, however, was always a challenge, primarily because the organization had limited capital when they were starting out. One of the successful livelihood projects that PAPSIMCO ventured into was green mussel culture. Green mussels or tahong were easy to grow and the waters of Brgy. Siit was highly suitable for it. PAPSIMCO sold them in the village and exported them to Siaton and Dumaguete City. This allowed them to earn profits in a short span of time. As the business was taking off, an unfortunate incident happened. Nine of their

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members fell ill after consuming some leftover mussels. They were not aware that red tide had already affected their waters. Out of fear that their clients might also be affected, PAPSIMCO members gave up their most profitable livelihood business. “We made good money from our green mussel culture business. We didn’t have a problem with marketing. There were locals from the village who ordered from us. We also had regular clients in Siaton and Dumaguete. The problem was, some of our members suffered red tide poisoning. We couldn’t forget that. We took nine of them to the hospital. Since then, we shut down the green mussel culture business altogether.” Nevertheless, even as they were busy with various livelihood projects, taking care of the mangroves remained paramount to the organization. With or without incentives, PAPSIMCO members never stopped re-planting mangroves and it was through their active participation that Brgy. Siit’s coastal area was successfully reforested. In spite of failures and misfortunes along the way, the Brgy. Siit’s mangrove forest quietly stands as PAPSIMCO’s greatest success - a source of pride and hope for the members who patiently took charge of reforesting the area. “PAPSIMCO helped the community a lot. We were successful in rehabilitating our mangroves and we helped increase our community’s ecotourism potential. Tourists have been visiting our place. Some of them purchased property and invested here. People from our village gained employment because of that. Foreigners also say they like our area very much especially the lagoon. Since the mangroves grew, we also started seeing prawns and crabs again. There was a time when these species disappeared. Now, the people in our community area busy with their jobs. Since they are no longer dependent on fishing, the prawns and crabs have time to grow. Sometimes, a few of our members gather prawns. They harvest a few kilos and they are able to sell them to the resorts. Sustaining the mangrove rehabilitation project had a big impact. Even though some of our livelihood projects failed, we did not stop planting mangroves.”

They protect the rehabilitated forests as they see a lot of ecotourism potential in it. In the future, they would like to develop the mangrove area into an eco-park to attract more tourists but also to educate them and the youth about the importance of mangroves in the ecosystem. “We want to educate students from other schools. Our plan is to turn this area into an eco-park where students can go on an educational trip and become aware of the importance of mangroves. That is one of our plans. We want to label the mangrove so they can also learn the names of the different species of mangroves here.”, Bundokan said. Because of PAPSIMCO’s successful community-based mangrove reforestation project, the USAID saw that the organization could be a valuable partner in marine biodiversity conservation. PAPSIMCO became a beneficiary of a social enterprise development program implemented by the Alter-Trade Foundation, Inc. through the assistance of USAID. PAPSIMCO members were trained in mud crab fattening, business planning and financial management among others. The ecosystem-friendly mud crab fattening project is still a fledgling business, but already the female officers of PAPSIMCO are making plans to open a floating restaurant within the eco-park. They are keen on using their catering skills and integrating the mud crab fattening livelihood project into their community-based eco-friendly business. It would take years to realise this vision, they said. In the meantime, PAPSIMCO will keep doing what it does best: protecting the mangrove forests of Brgy. Siit.

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6. In reducing fishing pressure, fisheries biomass is increased and marine biodiversity is conserved

o Across the MKBAs, the early management interventions and the implementationof EAFM

plans have resulted in significant increase in fisheries biomass. This is based on fish catch monitoring data and MPA assessments.

o Stakeholders in the area immediately observed the improvement in habitats and fisheries stocks. LGUs and national agencies were encouraged to continue and expand their investment in fisheries and coastal management as a result of the early gains.

Increased enforcement actions can effectively reduce IUU fishing that reduces fishing pressure. USAID experience more than a decade of field experience, is that marine habitats and fisheries can recover quite rapidly (in less than five years). The recovery is felt immediately by fishers through increased fish catch. The Coron basnigan case study takes fisheries management to a higher level by introducing limits to fishing effort. The idea came from the fishers themselves. This idea was formally turned into regulation in the municipal ordinance, after validation through scientific studies. Basnigan operators have been experiencing a rebound in catch since the time that operations stopped due to increased enforcement actions. The experience of KAMAMANA is similar to the experience of PAPSIMCO and many other communities engaged in mangrove crab fattening. What was once a destructive livelihood (mangrove cutting) can be turned into an opportunity for income generation that is still dependent on the mangroves, but as habitat for the crabs. Reducing fishing pressure and restoring habitats does not necessarily mean a loss of livelihood. Restoring fisheries and habitats is a difficult and often conflict-ridden effort. Consensus-building is important from the start. Sustaining these efforts also require constant affirmation that the actions are effective and beneficial. Incentive systems, such as the BRAVO awards, provide the mechanism for measuring effectiveness and benefit, while also recognizing the best practices of communities. BRAVO has been replicated in several other USAID sites. Coron and the Basnig: A Struggle in Sustainability Since the 1960s, or even earlier, depending on who one talks to, Coron’s fisher folk have been participating in the basnigan fishing industry. Fathers taught their sons how to catch dilis using bag nets and bright lights, and their sons taught their sons to do the same thing. At its peak, the basnig allowed the then-sleepy town of Coron to prosper by providing a living to almost anyone who was willing to participate. “Halos lahat dito na hanapbuhay, kumikita ang Coron sa basnig. Yun ang number one [na] hanapbuhay. Pag may basnig ka, nakaka-employ ka ng tao mo galing sa mga barrio,” says Sangguniang Bayan member Yuri John Emerson Palanca. “Yung sinasabi kong 1960s, ‘70s, talagang grabe yung mga huli ng basnig. May bagoongan sila diyan, drum-drum, marami talagang isda.” Basnigan operations continued to bring in the money well until the early 90’s, when fish catch rates dropped. Some operators persisted, but it wasn’t until 2010 onwards that the practice became profitable again. 2013 and 2014 were some of the better years for the basnig operators in Coron. “Nung time na ‘yun, marami. Kaya dumagdag nang dumagdag, dumami nang dumami ang mga residents na nakikita nila na talagang maganda nga ang huli sa dilis,” says Ermilinda Echague, treasurer of the Coron Baby Basnig Association. “Dati po kumikita...nag-paparte pa ng P100,000 sa isang laot. Ang isang laot [tumatagal ng] 24, 26 days.” Despite the income that basnigan operators were bringing into the town of Coron for decades, there was apparently no formal ordinance to protect them and regulate their practice, as officials and operators

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discovered in late 2015, when a basnigan fishing boat was apprehended and confiscated for fishing within municipal waters. According to Republic Act 8550, such operations are prohibited. “Nabuksan yung usaping ito dahil merong na-apprehend na lehitimong taga sa amin, na since [time] immemorial, yun na ang business nila,” explains former Coron Sangguniang Bayan member and Agriculture Committee Chair Cliff Astor. “Ang problema lang po doon, nung time na nagha-hanapbuhay ang mga taong ito using ang basnig, hindi namin alam, hindi aware yung mga tao, na itong business palang ito eh walang nakapaloob na batas when it comes to protection ng municipal ordinance.” Basnigan operaters were surprised to find out that the enterprise they were engaged in for the longest time was not legally recognized by the municipality, despite being issued permits to operate within Coron’s municipal waters. “Ano ang proteksyon namin sa munisipyo ‘pag hinuli? Wala. Permit lang sa amin e, permit to operate, bayad lang kami diyan. Paghinuli kami, kami-kami ang magsa-sacrifice,” says Benjie Gesta, a member of the Board of Directors of the Coron Baby Basnig Association. The basnigan operators and the fisher folk who worked for them were adversely affected by this development. “Nung mahuli [yung basnigan operator], lahat nag-stop, halos lahat nag-stop. So affected ang mga maliliit na mangingisda… yun lang din ang number one na pinagkukunan ng pangkabuhayan,” says Astor. “Siyempre po yung mga tao mawawalan ng hanapbuhay, livelihood nila yun, siyempre ang balik nila sa munisipyo.” The basnigan operators, who had already organized themselves into the aforementioned Coron Baby Basnig Association, approached the Coron local government to air their grievances. With USAID ECOFISH facilitating the discussions, a section on basnigan operations was included in the fisheries ordinance that was being drafted at that time. Coron’s Fisheries and Coastal Resources Management Code, which has been approved in public consultations but, as of January 2017, has yet to be ratified, declares in its policies “to protect the rights of small and marginal fishers in the preferential use of communal coastal and fishery resources.” The basnig is given its due in Section 11, where it is stated that, “commercial fishing vessels locally known as ‘basnig’ of up to three (3) gross tons capacity for catching ‘dilis’ (anchovy species) and ‘pusit’ (squid), which may be allowed to operate through a permit or license within ten point one (10.1) to fifteen (15) kilometer area from the shoreline in municipal waters.” Regulations in the basnigan fishing procedure are also outlined in the ordinance. The use of fine mesh nets with mesh sizes of up to #21 is allowed, while the use of light bulbs during fishing operations is limited to eight. The number of basnig vessel licenses to be issued is also limited to twenty-two – a number not imposed by Coron’s Sangguniang Bayan or USAID ECOFISH, but was proposed by the members of the Coron Baby Basnig Association themselves. “Actually... galing sa organization nila, sa association nila,” says Astor. “Sila mismo ang nagsabi na twenty-two lang. Kasi sa part namin, sa munisipyo, wala kaming right to... Ang maganda, sa kanila nanggaling ang proposal.” But why the willingness to limit their ranks? “Kasi may mga taga-ibang lugar na pumapasok, mga Mindoro, minsan ire-register dito,” says Gesta. “Kung saan-saan nanggagaling yung iba e. Kaya para ma-preserve namin yung talagang ang dapat mag-laot lang taga-Coron.” Geronimo Gevela, the Coron Municipal Agriculture Officer, also thinks that the series of seminars and workshops USAID ECOFISH has conducted, including training on right sizing, might have had something to do about it. “Mayroong ginawa ang ECOFISH na parang study. Doon sa study, nakita nila yung magiging effect ‘pag masobrahan nga yung sa basnigan. Halos wala na silang mahuhuli. Kasi sila, nararamdaman nila ang hirap din mag-fishing na wala rin silang mahuhuli.” The effort could not have come at a better time. After an abundant period, basnig operators are currently experiencing a fish drought – in their words, a crisis. “Pagdating ng 2016, eto na nga, nagkaloko-loko

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na... Marami nang nawala. Nagkaroon na ng problema,” says Gesta, referring to the diminished amount of fish caught in the recent months, as well as the basnigan operators who have had to stop fishing as a result. They credit this scarcity to many reasons, including the proliferation of the live fish trade, climate change, and the enforcement of marine protected areas. With MPAs limiting where basnigans can operate, members of the Coron Baby Basnig Association claim that they are running out of areas where they can properly catch dilis, and are being pushed farther and farther away, beyond the limits of the municipal waters. Add to that the illegal fishing activities that some live fish traders employ, such as the use of sodium and cyanide, which kills the dilis, giving the operators good reason to fear that their method of fishing will disappear completely from Coron. “Kung tatanggalin natin ang basnigan sa bayan ng Coron, siyam [na tao bawat basnig] ang mawawalan ng trabaho. How about yung mga fisherfolk namin? Anong gagawin?” asks Gesta. “Matututo na naman silang bumalik sa pag-i-illegal nila. Kasi yun ang buhay nila e.” On top of fisher folk losing their livelihood, they also worry for Coron’s food security. Gesta adds, “Sa simula’t simula, ang Coron, ang kinabubuhay ang pangingisda at ang basnig. At yun ang talagang pangunahin nilang pinagkukunan ng pagkain sa panghuhuli.” But officials are not too worried about the possible disappearance of Coron’s basnig. Although mostly based on anecdotal evidence, they observed basnig to follow a cycle – during certain years, operators see a boom, while other years are not as abundant. Palanca says, “Hindi mo pwedeng sisihin yun, kasi yung mga MPAs hindi naman nanghuhuli ng isda. Hindi nila pwedeng sisihin. Talagang minsan lumalayo rin siguro yung mga isdang yun, lumalayo. May cycle sila, may cycle yan.” Astor agrees. “Actually, alam din nila... for example, five years straight silang business ng dilis. Sila mismo nag-stop, kasi alam nila pag medyo nawawala yung isda, nag-istop sila. Tapos babalik ulit sila.” And if the basnig does go out of practice in Coron, the booming tourism industry in the town is more than enough to ensure that the displaced fisher folk will have a livelihood to depend on and food to eat. “Kasi, sa tingin ko, kung ganun ang mangyayari, ako, owner ng basnig na palugi, magdadalawang isip ako. Talagang ituturista ko,” says Palanca. “Kung wala namang supply ng isda at marami namang pera, tulad ng... isang tour guide, siyempre pag-uwi niya, may pera na siya. Hindi na siya maghahanap ng isda kung available [ang] karne ng baboy.” Although the basnigan operators’ concerns are already addressed by Coron’s Fisheries and CRM Code, the municipal ordinance’s impact on the basnigan fishing industry, whether positive or negative, has yet to be seen. With a few technicalities standing in the way of the Fisheries and CRM Code’s passage and implementation, what is crucial now is the preparation needed to ensure that the law is properly enforced. Astor says, “Kasi minsan, sa totoo lang, nagcre-create siya ng isang batas para sabihin na may batas tayo. Pero yung implementasyon, wala. Nagkukulang. So wala rin, useless. Kailangan palakasin hindi lang yung batas, na mag-pass ka ng mag-pass ng batas. Kailangan ng implementation. At pag-apprehend dapat talaga seryoso.” Areas where basnigs can operate have already been delineated in the draft of Coron’s Coastal and Marine Water Use Plan, while coastal law enforcement agencies, such as the Coast Guard and the Philippine National Police Maritime Group, have been informed about the municipal ordinance. At the end of the day, it is the strict implementation of laws that will ensure that Coron and the rest of the Calamianes Island Group are able to sustain their rich marine resources. KAMAMANA

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The largest mangrove reserve in Siargao Island, spanning 5,548 hectares or over half of the island’s total mangrove cover, can be found in the town of Del Carmen. This was the data when the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) mapped the extent of Siargao Island’s mangrove forests through spot satellite imaging in 1998. By 2011, Del Carmen alone lost a staggering 1,250 hectares, more than half of the total mangrove forests that disappeared in Siargao Island over that period. Despite the penalties imposed under environmental laws, and the aggressive education campaign launched by the DENR after Siargao Island was declared a protected landscape and seascape, mangrove cutting persisted. Locals traditionally relied on mangrove cutting to make a living aside from fishing. It was not out of sheer ignorance that the former illegalistas cut the mangroves in Del Carmen. They have always been aware of the importance of the trees they were cutting. “Dyan talaga nangingitlog ang mga isda. Alam namin iyan dati pa, kaya lang wala naman kaming ibang pagkikitaan”, Romeo Solima, a former illegalista said. (That is where fish spawn. We are already aware of that even before, but we do not have other sources of income.”) Poverty and the lack of alternative livelihood, however, has made mangrove cutting a matter of survival. It was also an easy way of earning, with little investment compared to fishing or farming. For decades, the members of Kaanib ng mga Mangingisda at Magsasaka ng Numancia Aqua Agrikultura (KAMAMANA), a peoples organization in Del Carmen, were among those who made a living by exploiting the mangroves. Most of them were subsistence fishers who often did not make enough money to support their families. Some would work as laborers as small-scale construction sporadically cropped up in the sleepy town of Del Carmen. But nearly all of them resorted to cutting mangroves and selling them for fuelwood to make ends meet. The founding chairman of KAMAMANA eventually campaigned on his own, went from house to house urging llegalistas to do two things: abandon cutting mangroves and attend the DENR seminars. He managed to convince a few illegalistas to participate in the DENR seminars, but he did not get them to immediately abandon mangrove cutting. Nonetheless, he and the few illegalistas who also attended the DENR seminars formed a small organization so that they could access livelihood assistance from the DENR. In 2014, Sikat Foundation provided funding and trainings to KAMAMANA members to help them start a mud crab fattening business. While striving to sustain this alternative livelihood project, Chairman Solima and some members also volunteer with the Bantay Dagat team of Del Carmen. “Dati wala akong pakialam basta kumita lang ako, pero nang mapaliwanagan ako, sabi ko nga kanina, 180 degrees ang naging turnaround ko: tutulong ako sa pragprotekta ng ating kalikasan. Kung dati hindi kami nakakahuli ng mga isda, ngayon nakakahuli na kami. Pati tao hinuhuli na rin namin. Hinuhuli namin iyong mga illegalista pati iyong mga dayo dito”, Chairman Solima jokingly quipped. (I did not care about the environment before, as long as I made money. But when I was made aware of it, as I mentioned a while ago, I did a 180 degree turn: I will help protect the environment. We could not catch fish before, but we do now. We also catch people. We catch the illegalistas and intruders.”) USAID ECOFISH Project partnered with them. ECOFISH needed a partner on the ground to localize marine conservation effort in the town of Del Carmen. With a mud crab fattening start-up already existing, ECOFISH provided KAMAMANA members a series of capacity building and business skills development trainings that would ensure the sustainability of their livelihood. For to sustain this livelihood means to eliminate the possibility of ever returning to the illegal and destructive business of cutting and selling mangroves. More than Just Awards: BRAVO to Protecting the Seas Lian, a coastal municipality in Batangas, was not even shortlisted for the Best MPA Initiatives

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Category at the 2013 Batangas Recognition Awards for Verde Passage Outstanding Marine Protected Areas (BRAVO-MPA). Calatagan, another municipality in Batangas, only placed third in the Best Managed Marine Protected Area category. But come 2015, in the second edition of BRAVO-MPA, these municipalities emerged at the top to claim award-winning MPAs. Lian’s Barangay Binubusan MPA and Kay Reyna MPA took home the second and third places, respectively, for the Best MPA Initiatives Category. Meanwhile, Calatagan shut out all the other contenders, winning all three spots in the Best Managed MPA Category. These improved results should come as no surprise, seeing as how the Province of Batangas is serious about protecting the Verde Island Passage Marine Key Biodiversity Area, the heart of marine biodiversity in the world’s Coral Triangle. The BRAVO-MPA was another initiative of the Provincial Government under the Environment and Natural Resources Office (PG-ENRO). Conceived in collaboration with several NGOs, including Conservation International Philippines and USAID ECOFISH, and the private sector’s First Gen, BRAVO-MPA is designed to be an incentive program for the member municipalities of the Batangas MPA Network. By showcasing how MPAs create a positive impact on the environment and on human lives, BRAVO serves as a platform to promote the best practices and management plans of the different local government units (LGUs) of Batangas, and allows others to adapt it to their own MPAs. “[BRAVO is] effective in the sense that people are starting to document their management actions,” explains Rex Montebon, Conservation International Philippines Program Manager for Coastal, Marine, and Fisheries. “Kasi one of the critical things na hinahanap ng BRAVO is the documentation process. How do you know things are happening? Where can we see them? Mas nakikita mo yung nangyayari talaga.” There is also the worry that LGUs are only taking action just the sake of winning an award. Montebon warns, “Are they doing it because it’s a good thing, or are they doing it because may awards? Kaya sana everyone involved ginagawa yung marine conservation kasi... It’s good for everyone... for the environment. Saka na lang yung reward. Hindi naman yun yung end goal.” But if the remarks of the different municipal agriculturists are any indication, there is no reason to be alarmed. Mien Custodio of Calatagan said, “Matalo, manalo, ayos lang. Hindi naman ganun ka-seryoso lumaban. Basta ang mahalaga, ginagawa natin yung pangangalaga. Hindi yung pangangalaga natin is yung after sa BRAVO.”

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7. An improved resource base allows fishing communities to engage in diversified sustainable livelihoods

o In addition to prioritizing elimination of IUU fishing, USAID promoted establishment of rules to

ensure equitable access to the benefits of increased stocks and conserved habitats. o USAID helped design and promote conservation enterprises for poor, organized fishing

communities to create viable livelihood options. The type of enterprise is crucial: harvest-based enterprises must comply with best practices; non-harvest enterprises wean fishers

away from fishing, even as their livelihoods are still resource- based (e.g. ecotourism). o Success of community-based conservation enterprises relies on support groups with expertise

and long-term commitment. USAID linked community conservation entrepreneurs with local

NGOs to guide them toward profitability and sustainability. An improved resource based and restored habitats result in increased fish catch, as well as expand the opportunities of fishing communities to earn income from non-harvest activities, such as ecotourism. However, recovery can send signals to fishers to increase fishing pressure again. USAID ensures that continued fishing activities are at a sustainable level and benefit the sectors most in need. This is done through a process of ‘right-sizing’ of fishing effort, where stakeholders decide on a cap on fishing effort and redistribute access to the fisheries to benefit small-scale fishers. In Sipalay and in Tawi-Tawi, fishers increase their income by adding value to fisheries products through post-harvest processing. Value-adding provides higher income without necessarily increasing fishing pressure. How a fledging enterprise can make Sipalay fly higher Last May, USAID’s Ecosystems Improved for Sustainable Fisheries (ECOFISH) Program signed off with a celebration of the successes it achieved for the country’s giving and resilient seas through Pagbalong: From the Seas, Nourishing Life. And what better way to showcase the rich bounty from ECOFISH’s marine key biodiversity areas (MKBAs) than serving them for the event dinner. The dinner service, prepared by Chefs Rolando and Jaqueline Laudico, featured fish sustainably caught and sourced from the waters of each project site. Every plate of every course turned out to be the best possible display of the project’s gains. Two of the seafood that figured prominently in the five-course menu, barongoy or fiying fish and tuna, are from Sipalay in South Negros. Besides using fried barongoy to lend some bite into their seaweed and sea cucumber salad, the chefs Laudico used up Sipalay tuna in two courses: first as kinilaw, a local take on ceviche; and as a main course, grilled fresh along with prawns and served in a bed of noodles coated in the right amount of buro (fermented shrimp) cream. People of varying gastronomic knowledge would know the country’s first-rate tuna—frozen, boxed, and flown in for international consumption—is found along the seas of General Santos. But the ones caught along Sipalay’s waters are gaining increasing prominence. After all, as fishers claim, their tuna measures up to the GenSan’s sashimi-grade variety—its flesh just as tender, fatty, and deep red, if not superior. Commercial tuna fishers in the area say 30 percent of the tuna sold in what is touted as the country’s tuna capital were actually fished from their waters. “When dealing with middlemen, we’d have to claim our tuna is actually from Gen San,” a longtime tuna fisher, said. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to command the same price as Gen San’s even for the same quality.” But the tuna fishers have been facing numerous challenges. First, they have lacked confidence in handling their catch. Truth is, compared to them, fishers based in General Santos City have decades-long experience

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and sophisticated facilities on their sleeve. “We weren’t properly schooled in the proper handling of tuna because we were used to fishing smaller species,” another tuna fisher, said. “Not many of us know that tuna needs to be kept at very low temperatures to maintain its quality, so they crowd it with smaller fish.” With an increasing temperature due to crowding, the quality of the tuna meat suffers. Hence, despite its relative abundance, most fishers have considered tuna fishing a mere sideline. But a greater challenge confronting them is sustainability. Fishers have been noticing a declining trend in tuna catch. Local fishers would point it to the brazen encroachment of fishers from countries as far as Taiwan. “They would fish as close as 120 miles off our waters. Their boats would not go lower than 50.” Worse, Taiwanese fishers would flash super lights at night to lure and maim bigger species such as tuna. “The blinding lights would damage even the ones which could have grown bigger. Definitely they wouldn’t pass the scrutiny of experienced buyers. There would be little use of them, if at all,” on the commercial tuna operators explained. Despite sending signals for help, the fishers saw no action from local agencies. The agencies said it should be up to their national counterparts to make the call. When confronted with the illegal vessels, their fellow fishers couldn’t do anything themselves. “The language barrier didn’t help, of course. The [illegal fishers] would just settle disputes with our fellow fishermen by giving them cigarettes or noodles,” he added. “For now,” he lamented, “we might take little notice, but we’re afraid that in 20 years’ time, we’ve got no more tuna to catch.” ---- Barongoy tells a different story. Known overseas as flying fish for its ability to propel itself out of the water, barongoy swims and “flies” in huge quantities along the deep waters of Sipalay. Weighing about 300 grams and growing as long as 10 inches, this pelagic species is available all year round—so abundant, that local fishers see them literally gliding into their nets and even their boats. One of the fishers, could not recall a day when they went home empty handed from fishing barongoy. “We would wake up at 4:00 in the morning. By sunrise, at around 6, we’d cast out our nets and dip into the waters. We tended to the nets until around 9:00, when we would have to haul it to collect our catch.” On a very lucky day, it would only be the first of many batches. “We’d do the hauling barongoy for three hours and end by 12 or 1 [in the afternoon], depending on the volume. Yesterday, we collectively gathered one and a half tons for 10 boats.” “By early afternoon, we’ll have to scramble to reach the shore (about 40 nautical miles from where they fish) to keep the catch fresh. When the barongoy gets exposed to so much air, its quality would get compromised.” Sipalay’s flagship species is sold and consumed both as forage for tuna and other bigger fish, and as a daily staple in the tables of most households. More than an accessible source of protein for Sipalay households, barongoy has been a major source of income for most of the people there. Barongoy is sold, either fresh or air dried, to middlemen, and to markets around Sipalay and nearby towns. “If harvest went by the ton, our catch would land in Bayawan, Dumaguete, or even Cebu.” During months when catch is low due to the rough waves brought about by the rainy season, the daily haul would be more than enough font community subsistence. Over the years, the level of fishing effort for barongoy has remained steady. After all, the seas seem to have not run out of it. “It’s been aplenty for as far as I can remember,” said a fisher since 1979. “Back in the day, our fathers used bubo (fish pots) to trap the fish. Some would weave nets out of abaca.”

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The challenge that came with abundance was how to add value to Sipalay’s most prolific fish. While fishers could sell a kilo to middlemen at a high of P70, barongoy could go as low as P20 per kilo during peak months, at the expense of the fishers’ incomes and effort. ---- Help came from Alter Trade Foundation, Inc, a Negros based company that empowers small and medium scale community enterprises by advocating fair trade. The group set out to help Sipalay fishers put up community-based ventures which could yield bigger incomes for their catch, thereby reducing the fishing pressure—a factor affecting the sustainability and diversity of fish stocks and catch. Such ventures, introduced by ECOFISH to Sipalay and its other focus communities, are called conservation enterprises. Beginning last year, Alter Trade was helping out a local people’s organization (PO), the Sipalay Small Fishermen Association, in drawing up a plan for their collectively-owned enterprise, and scale their business plans according to their skills and technical capacity. Alter Trade started off with basic skills trainings in budgeting, marketing, and finance management. Upon request of the members of Barangay 2 Fisherfolk Association, Alter Trade taught them basic restaurant and food operation so they’d know how to manage the food kiosks and the floating restaurant they envision to set up. Part of the training involved basic food business operations and recipe development. Alter Trade helped the POs set up a test kitchen to develop several recipes. While families serve barongoy marinated (kinilaw), grilled (sinugba), fried, or dried right in their own backyards on a regular day, the test kitchen became a laboratory that yielded a range of gastronomic experiments, from savory to surprisingly saccharine: barungoy burger, barungoy siomai (dimsum), lumpiang shanghai (fried spring rolls), embotido (local meatloaf), and even ice cream. They also learned to bottle barungoy in olive oil, prepared much like Spanish style sardines. To further promote barongoy and the products they created out of it, they have turned a yearly thanksgiving festival into an affair that serves as an anchor to attract potential tourists. Held during the summer, the barongoy festival celebrates the abundance of flying fish while introducing it to the rest of the Philippines and, soon, the world. As part of the festivities, they would hold bangkareras (boat races), a fluvial parade, and a boodle fight by lunchtime, wherein locals spread kilos of flying fish throughout a grilling pit stretching about 50 meters long. But the highlight of the festival is a cook-off where residents face one another to create or reinvent recipes with the pelagic fish as the main ingredient. Also during the festival this year, they launched the first batch of processed products made of barongoy, including bottled barongoy, prepared Spanish style. It is now commercially available around town, soon to land in grocery shelves and specialty stores within and outside the city. Especially if fishing remains at sustainable levels, barungoy would stay to sustain generations of Sipalay folk. Hopefully, with the community’s nascent enterprise, Barongoy could take the people’s welfare and livelihood to new heights. ### How a community swims back to abundance—and scales up [AMPA in Brgy Ipil, Bongao]

Ipil, a coastal village of only a hundred households, has been a spawning area for the anchovies, and was hence declared a marine sanctuary as early as 2000. Most if not all of the village folk have relied on dilis, dried and sold to traders within and outside Tawi-Tawi, to make both ends meet.

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But as Jimar Wahid, an Adopt a Marine Protected Area (AMPA) Guard admitted, “Many of our fellow fishers used dynamites to scoop out all the dilis they could. Until one day, rampant blast fishing scared all the fish away.” Fishers saw blasting as an easy way to hunt for schools of fish. But it comes at a great expense to the sea and its resources. Scores of fish are maimed and killed in an instant, spoiling their commercial viability. Other fish that narrowly survive the blast were left with nowhere to run for cover, as corals shatter to fragments. The surviving fish would swim a different direction as their immediate habitats further deteriorate. Years have passed without the community seeing any dilis swim their way, added Wahid. “It took a toll on our incomes. Many of our fellow fishers left the village in search of other means to earn.” With the establishment of the Adopt a Marine Protected Area initiative by the PNP Maritime Group in 2014, the community of fishers saw a starting point for restoring the health of their fishing grounds. AMPA members are Bantay Dagat (Sea Patrol or MPA Guards). The PNP Maritime Group (PNP-MG) took them under its wing to reinforce the protection of existing marine sanctuaries like Barangay Ipil. With the help of its partners, the Maritime Police equips the AMPA Guards with trainings on, among others, apprehending and holding destructive fishers, conducting water rescue, and saving stranded marine mammals. “They have become our force multipliers,” said Major Geobani Calle of the Regional Maritime Unit. “Every day, we strictly guard the seas,” Wahid said. “We apprehend fishers who use dynamites, sodium [cyanide], and even hook and line fishers who cross the 500-meter line outside the MPA.” “It’s funny how some fishers from nearby towns already know the drill and still dare to fish along the 500-meter line,” Wahid added. “They would reason, ‘the wind just brought us here.’ Still, we would tell them why it’s declared a no-fishing zone for non-municipal fishers and tell them not to do it again.” Years after the AMPA Guards started a vigorous watch over their seas, the dilis swam back Ipil’s waters. This time around, the villagers knew better. “We don’t gather dilis at exploitative levels,” said Wahid. Better still, since gathering dilis is limited to the villagers, the fishing effort has been at a constant scale and frequency. “Fishers from nearby towns and provinces don’t come to fish dilis; they come here to buy,” he added. Without the villagers knowing it, what they have been making is conservation enterprise at work. -- The next challenge for the community at that point was to scale up their emerging enterprise and earn bigger from dilis. It took a chance encounter with the Tawi-Tawi team of the ECOFISH Project to find Sister Ritaflor Servidad of the Tawi-Tawi Family Life Foundation (TFLF), which would become the partner organization to help Ipil’s fishers. Recalled Sister Servidad: “‘Why look for me?’ I initally wondered. Then the people from ECOFISH explained they were looking for a partner in the province.” Since the project rang a bell with her—having partnered before with ECOFISH’s predecessor, the Fisheries Improved for Sustainable Harvest (FISH) Project—Sister Servidad gave a nod. To her and the rest of the TFLF, venturing into development enterprise meant charting unfamiliar territory: “We’ve been here [in Tawi-Tawi] for 34 years, but our line of work has been mainly about sending children to school by matching them with foreign sponsors.”

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“Nevertheless,” said she, “we tried learning the ropes. I sat on the EAFM [Ecosystems Approach to Fisheries Management] Workshops. Two weeks after, we were on the drawing table drafting the proposal.” Another unfamiliar territory to Sister Servidad was Ipil itself. “Initially, I thought the project was to be implemented in the center (Bongao). Before writing the proposal, we visited Ipil, and it was my first time to reach the village.” In the first visit, Sister Servidad was already at awe with the village’s potential. “There were plenty of bulinaw (a variety of anchovies) and I saw them harvest it firsthand,” she said. “They would gather as many as 40 sacks in one harvest. Every other day, they would transport it to traders in the cities of Zamboanga and Pagadian.” Collectively, the fishers earn as much as PhP 700,000.00 (roughly USD40,000.00) every fishing cycle for their dried dilis. “But we knew there is something we could do with the fish so the village could earn more,” she said. In the thick of discussions with the villagers, one of them suggested, why not make sambal out of the anchovies? To the minds of Sister Servidad and the community, this native Malaysian delicacy made of fine shrimp and chilies would be a hit to the people of Tawi-Tawi. After all, most of them like their food spicy. “Someone in Ipil worked in Malaysia and learned to make it the native way. She tried doing it here.” But at first it wasn’t easy to convince her to share the recipe. “She wanted to keep it top secret,” said Sister Servidad. “I talked her through it, and we got her to demonstrate how to cook sambal.” Soon after, women—16 of them—would learn how the spicy paste is made. “They used to be plain housewives, with no means to earn and have only busied themselves with looking after their children. Initially, we brought the trainings to them. But eventually, they expressed willingness to travel in batches to our office,” Sister Servidad said. The office became the test kitchen. A series of trial and error sessions yielded two more recipes besides sambal—a sweet-spicy variant, and a rebosao variant, an entirely sweet one. They invited children to taste the three variants. The sambal dilis easily emerged as the most favorite: “The kids,” Sister Servidad said, “also liked rebosao, but the sugar coating would always melt. So we’re down to perfecting two variants.” Sister Servidad commended the determination of most of the female members to learn. “Something would turn out wrong along they way, and that would mean two kilos of dilis wasted—not so much because the women would bring the dilis for their families anyway. But they were very patient. They were making it with so much love and care. On the fourth try, they were quite sure [about the taste]: ‘Sister, this is ok.’” The men would also lend a hand in preparing the sambal, assisting in putting the chilies in blenders and packing the jars for selling. The product still on a “try-out” phase; for one, they are still awaiting approval from the Department of Trade and Industry for the final design of the product label. But jars of sambal dilis have already lined hotel kiosks and grocery aisles around Bongao. Sister Servidad beamed with pride as she shared the product has already reached the cities of Cotabato, Davao, Zamboanga, and even Manila, through customers ordering via Facebook. “We’re growing by word of mouth.” The fledging dilis industry in Barangay Ipil now stands as a case in making a holistic design of fisheries management.

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Ipil offers so much potential besides other product developments for dilis that include crispy anchovies and bagoong. The village, for one, also grow lemons. “I see we could make a nutritious alternative to soft drinks using lemons,” Sister Servidad said “While studying how to make it, we have just experimented with infusing lemons into our crispy dilis. So far it turned out well—we now have crispy dilis with some spice and zing.” Also in the works is a processing facility within the barangay so the housewives would not have to travel to the TLFL office in Bud Bongao to make the sambal. “At least the mothers would still have time to tend to the kids. I can’t wait to transfer our equipment there,” she said But Sister Servidad has been aware that building the facility is not without challenges. She, for one, had to rely on the benevolence of local government officials and the establishments around Bongao to get materials for construction. “Laway lang ang puhunan [I only have my word for my capital],” she said. “I asked help from the Mayor. He was initially hesitant but I told him our vision—that, who knows this might become the product for which Tawi-Tawi will be known. So he gave us some money. I also sold the project to the vice mayor. And then I turned into the businesses. I wouldn’t hesitate to ask what we specifically need—may we ask for 38 bags of cement? May we ask for plywood? Some eventually offered help without us asking. Major Calle committed eight gallons of paint.” The villagers are also expecting a unit of fish drier to come their way soon. “In one of my visits,” Sister Servidad shared, “I noticed some foul odor eking out from somewhere. I asked why, and they pointed me out to the dilis they had to throw away. They couldn’t dry the dilis out because a typhoon just passed through. I told them it should not happen again; the [native] gods would get angry if we spoil their bounty. The BFAR (Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources) committed to give us a fish drying unit after we directly told (Agriculture) Secretary (Manny) Piñol that we need one.” Despite initial strides, Sister Servidad and the entire TFLF couldn’t help but think whether the community would be ready to stand on their own once the project draws to a close in May. “I couldn’t say how much impact we’ve made to the community,” she said. “But hopefully, people would come to know them for their dilis products. I hope they could innovate and be able to manage their shared venture well.” Part of the series of trainings ECOFISH has given the villagers entail business planning. Wahid is also as excited to see the facility operate and allow them to process the dilis immediately after harvest. While overseeing the construction of the facility, he continues to join in patrolling their seas. “Even before I became an MPA Guard, I already knew the risks that come with it,” he said. “But I take pride in doing it, especially since every one of us rely on dilis for a living. It is us who have been reaping the gains anyway.” The gains have been so evident that one can see little shoals of dilis swimming under the villagers’ stilted houses.