The call of the shell shell was aroused by dolphins hunters from their beds. Six men mixed into a village church in a monthly light.
There the priest led them in a whispered prayer, his voice barely audible over the sound of the crashed waves; The tide was high that day. Weak water connected in parts of the village, which is on the island of Fanalei, which is a constantly clarified spot of a country that is part of the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific.
Before the first light, they set out in wooden canoes and broke through the darkness until they were miles away from the coast. After hours of scanning the horizon, he saw one of the hunters, Lesley Fugui, fins cut into glass water. He lifted 10 feet long bamboo pole with a piece of fabric tied to the end and warned his other discovery. Then he phoned his wife. Found dolphins. Hunting would start.
These men are among the last dolphins hunters from Solomon Islands. Some conservationists say that defeat is cruel and unnecessary. But for about 130 inhabitants of Fanalei’s traditional hunting, the traditional hunting has taken over the renewed urgency, because the climate change threatens their home. It is said that dolphins need their lucrative teeth that are used as a local currency to buy land on the higher country and escape their sinking home.
Each tooth loads $ 3 Solomon Islands (roughly $ 0.36) – the price set by Fanalei chiefs – and the only hunt for approximately 200 dolphins can bring tens of thousands of dollars, more than any other economic activity on the island.
“We are also sorry for killing dolphins, but we really have no choice,” said Mr. Fugui. He would be willing to leave hunting, adding that if there was an alternative way to ensure the future of his family.
Crops can no longer be grown on Fanalei, which is about a third of the size of Central Park in New York. The once fertile soil was destroyed by interference with salt water. The government promoted seaweed breeding as a source of income, while overseas groups for income protection offered cash to end hunt. However, the ocean remains the existential threat of even the most profitable source of villagers. Government research suggests that the island can be under water by the end of the century.
“For a low -lying island like ours, we witness our own eyes, as the rise of the sea affects our lives,” said Wilson Filei, head chief Fanalei.
Over time, the dolphin teeth allowed villagers to pay for a new church, the sea wall and extend the local elementary school.
During the hunting season, which runs from January to April, people can kill up to a thousand dolphins here, but hunters say that the weather is still unpredictable, making them difficult to localize and traps.
While the dolphin meat is consumed and dyed with neighboring islands for food, nuts with betel and other products, teeth are a real price of hunting. They are used for cultural activities, and the families of potential grooms are bought by hundreds to give the woman during the traditional price ceremony of the bride.
In recent years, most villagers have fled to the neighboring island. From there they hunt dolphins and say they have to buy more land to accommodate those that remain behind and support their growing population.
Dolphin hunting is a community affair in Fanalei. When Mr. Fugui picked up his flag that morning, he gave a cocoly pleasure. The children climbed to the trees to follow the hunters and encourage “Kirio” – a dolphin in the local Lau language – so every inhabitant would know that hunting began. Men in the canoes hanging near the coast broke through the waves into the open ocean to help the hunters create a semicircle around the dolphins and to land them.
Teeth, as soon as they are collected, are shared between each family according to the strict level system: hunters gain the largest share (“first price”); Married men who have not attended will gain another largest part; And the remaining teeth are divided between widows, orphans and other households without a male representative.
The leaders of the villages also allocated part of the teeth in what they call the “community basket” for the main works. One day they hope that this will include the purchase of land to expand the village relocation on the island of South Malaita.
These shares were an important security network for residents like Eddie Sua and his family. Mr. Sua was once a skilled hunter of the dolphin hunter, who had become mysteriously paralyzed from his throat two years ago and has been on bed since. These days, during the tide, its home flood.
“We have to worry about these floods, because it is what makes us act to save our lives,” he said, watching the salt water licks on the sides of his bed.
Dolphin hunting is very good or “good Tumami,” said Mr. Sua’s wife Florence Bobo in the local language of the drink, especially now that her husband is unable to support the family as it used to be. Both hope that they will eventually have enough money to move the island.
“If we had no dolphin teeth, we would have no choice but to eat the rocks,” Mr. Sua joked.
However, successful hunting is never a certainty. After seeing the dolphins, Mr. Fugui and other hunters began to beat fist rocks underwater to drive the pods towards the coast. But behind them, Trawler passed, the roar of his engine drowned a blunt bun of their rocks. The dolphins scattered and the men returned with an empty hand.
In the middle of this season, there was only one successful hunting on Solomon Islands, where the village near Fanalei killed over 300 dolphins.
Experts say it is not clear whether dolphin hunting is sustainable. Rochelle Constantine, a marine biologist who teaches at the University of Auckland, and the Afia, Klima and the Environmental Researchman from Solomon Islands, said some of the commonly hunted species have healthy populations. However, the effects of hunting are still unclear to more coastal and smaller dolphins.
For people in Fanalei, the more urgent question of the future of the dolphins is not – it is their own survival in the face of the rising sea.
“Dolphin hunting can be our identity,” said Mr. Fugui, “but our lives and lives of our children – that is important.”
