Along Madagascar’s southwest coast, the Vezo people have fished the Mozambique Channel for countless generations, their way of life sustained by the sea. Yet climate change and industrial exploitation are pushing this ocean-based culture to its limits.
Coastal villages around Toliara, a city in southern Madagascar, are home to tens of thousands of the semi-nomadic Vezo, who make a living from small-scale fishing. For centuries, they have launched pirogues—small boats carved from single tree trunks—into the turquoise shallows each day to catch tuna, barracuda, and grouper.
“We rely solely on the ocean,” says Soa Nomeny, a woman from the small island of Nosy Ve off the southwest coast. “Whatever we catch today, we eat today. If we catch nothing, we don’t eat.”
That dependence is becoming precarious for the roughly 600 residents of Nosy Ve. Michel “Goff” Strogoff, a former shark hunter turned conservationist from the Vezo hamlet of Andavadoaka, says fish populations began collapsing in the 1990s and have declined sharply over the past decade.
Rising sea temperatures, coral bleaching, and reef degradation have destroyed breeding grounds, while erratic weather linked to warming oceans has shortened fishing seasons. “There’s no abundance near shore anymore,” he says. “We’re forced to paddle farther.”
Local fishers echo the same concern. “There are simply too many nets out there,” says Hosoanay Natana, who now travels hours beyond traditional grounds to make a viable catch for himself and fellow fishermen.
Industrial trawlers—both Malagasy and foreign—often enter near-shore waters despite a national ban on ships coming within two nautical miles (3.7 km) of the coast. Weak enforcement means violations are common, leaving small-scale fishers with dwindling returns.
The environmental group Blue Ventures, which has worked in the region for two decades, reports that reef fish biomass across southwest Madagascar has fallen by more than half since the 1990s. The organization supports locally managed marine areas (LMMAs) that help communities set their own fishing rules, restore reefs, and seek alternative livelihoods.
Some of the most promising measures include temporary closures, which have allowed octopus stocks to rebound, and the new practice of seaweed farming, which acts as a commercial buffer against overfishing and climate shocks.
Farther down the coast, the village of Ambatomilo—known locally as Seaweed Village—has embraced this shift. Overseen by its LMMA committee, it is among several communities cultivating seaweed as a supplementary income for fishers whose traditional grounds are increasingly scarce.Families dry freshly harvested seaweed before selling it to local cooperatives. Fabricé and his wife, Olive, who started farming five years ago, harvest every few weeks. “The market pays about 1,500 ariary [25p] per kilo,” says Olive, spreading red seaweed on bamboo racks. Depending on the season, families can produce up to a tonne a month, providing significant extra income that helps support households when fishing is poor.
“We still rely on fish for daily needs,” she says, “but the seaweed helps us plan ahead.”
Seaweed farming is now one of Madagascar’s fastest-growing coastal industries. The crop is mainly exported for carrageenan—a gelling agent used in food, cosmetics, and pharmaceuticals—but it is also used locally as fertilizer and livestock feed.
Fabricé gathers the seaweed harvest. Depending on the season, they can harvest up to a tonne a month. With his wife, Olive, he carries the seaweed to prepare it for market. It is also eaten or used as seasoning, and serves as fertilizer or animal feed when dried. Soa Nomeny holds an octopus she has speared to supplement the fish catch.
Environmental studies show that seaweed farms help stabilize coastlines by reducing wave energy and absorbing carbon dioxide, contributing to erosion control and carbon storage.
The Vezo people’s adaptability, once a source of pride, has become essential for survival. Outside the cyclone season, some families still undertake long fishing migrations, camping on sandbanks and uninhabited islets as they follow fish along the coast. “Extended migrations are always an option,” says Natana. “Whether we go or not depends on the fish stocks nearby.”
Such journeys can last weeks or months, depending on catches and resources. The lure of high-value commodities—such as shark fins or sea cucumbers bound for Chinese markets—draws some to more distant waters up to 1,000 miles (1,600km) away.
“Some even venture all the way to the Seychelles,” says Strogoff, reflecting the Vezo people’s enduring nomadic spirit: always chasing the next opportunity to make a living.
Villagers gather for the Tromba ritual, performed to invoke blessings, honor ancestors, and seek protection, good health, and plenty. People are possessed by spirits, a goat or even a zebu is sacrificed, and other offerings are made, such as rice, bread, or rum. The ritual is also performed in times of crisis, before a journey, or for marriages.
Cultural traditions remain central to community life. On Nosy Ve, families still gather for annual blessing rituals, seeking protection and prosperity. During one such ceremony, elders invoke ancestral spirits in a Tromba possession rite while villagers sacrifice a goat or make other offerings to ensure safety at sea.
Life on the island reflects both endurance and fragility. Homes built from pounded seashells and palm fronds line the beach; nights are lit by torches instead of electricity.
After a day at sea, the fish catches are shared equally among crews, with the surplus sold or traded for rice or solar batteries. Meals rarely change: rice, beans, and grilled fish.
For now, the Vezo people continue to depend on the ocean that shaped them. Yet each year, the distance they must travel grows and the risks increase.
As industrial fleets expand and reefs decline, an ancient seafaring culture faces an uncertain future. Their struggle reflects a wider challenge across coastal Africa: how small communities can endure when the sea that sustains them is changing so quickly.
The daughter of Hosoanay Natana and Soa Nomeny plays with her ‘sunglasses.’ When she is older, she will help the other girls and women look for octopuses, sea urchins, and other marine life.and sea cucumbers
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about the topic Barracuda Grouper Tuna and Seaweed Madagascars Fishers are Turning to New Ways to Survive framed in a natural conversational tone
General Beginner Questions
1 Whats the main story about Madagascars fishers
Fishers in Madagascar who traditionally caught fish like barracuda grouper and tuna are facing empty nets due to overfishing and climate change To survive many are now farming seaweed as a sustainable alternative
2 Why are they stopping fishing for these big fish
The populations of these valuable fish have declined drastically This is due to a combination of overfishing and environmental changes that are harming coral reefs and fish habitats
3 What is seaweed farming exactly
Its like underwater gardening Fishers grow seaweed by tying small pieces to lines or nets in shallow coastal waters The seaweed grows quickly is harvested and then dried to be sold
4 Is seaweed farming really better than fishing
In this context yes It provides a reliable income when fishing is unreliable doesnt deplete wild fish stocks and can actually help improve water quality However its often less profitable per kilogram than a big tuna catch
About the Fish The Problem
5 What kind of fish are barracuda grouper and tuna
They are all large predatory fish high on the food chain Tuna are fast openocean swimmers Grouper are reefdwelling bottom fish Barracuda are sleek aggressive hunters near reefs All were once staples and income sources for fishers
6 What caused the fish to disappear
Several factors industrial and local overfishing destructive fishing practices coral reef bleaching and pollution Its a perfect storm of human and environmental pressures
7 Cant they just fish somewhere else or use bigger boats
For many smallscale community fishers going further out to sea is dangerous and expensive Without major investment and regulation this often just shifts the problem rather than solving it
About Seaweed The Solution
8 What do they do with the farmed seaweed
Most of it is dried and exported Its used to extract
