Island’s Icon Up in the Air

Some people in this self-proclaimed Land of the Flying Fish now concede that it might have been unwise to make a wandering species the nation’s mascot.

The Atlantic flying fish featured on Barbados’ coins, stamps and five-star menus have flown their liquid coop to waters about 125 miles south, off the two-island nation of Trinidad and Tobago.

Their departure has idled thousands of fishermen here, imperiled the economy and bruised national pride. Barbadian fishermen must now go net-in-hand to their neighbors to buy the fish.

Flying fish are so central to the island’s culture that fishermen here insist they have the right to harvest the stock wherever it might stray. Fishermen pursued the fish into Tobago’s waters at the end of last season, setting off a diplomatic snit that continues to roil Caribbean relations.

Two trespassing ship captains were arrested in February. Boatloads of fish were seized. Strongly worded diplomatic missives were exchanged.

Now, as a new fishing season gets underway, high dudgeon prevails across the teal blue waters separating the two former British colonies. Trinidadian officials have promised to defend their territory “in the strongest possible way” against further intrusions. Barbados has appealed to a United Nations maritime panel to settle the dispute.

And Bajans, as the locals here are called, are shut out of the catch till at least 2006, while the U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea deliberates, compelling them to buy fish from the neophyte fleet in Tobago.

Sherwin Moseley, who earns a living cleaning flying fish, said it pains him to receive the imported catch from Tobagonian fishermen, many of them trained by Bajans in the bygone days of friendly collaboration.

“They don’t know how to filet them properly,” said the dreadlocked Moseley, slapping the back of one hand into the palm of the other to punctuate his disappointment. “When we get them in from Trinidad, we have to clean and bone them all over again.”

About the size of a pigeon, flying fish tend to take to the air when they are chased by tuna, dolphin and other larger species. Using their tail fins to gather speed, the fish leap out of the water and glide above the surface, typically for about 30 feet.

Barbados has built an industry on the creature. At least 15% of its workforce is employed in fisheries. The annual catch of more than 2,200 tons is sold to wholesalers for $2.6 million, the island’s most important source of income after tourism.

Every restaurant and snack shack on this island of 275,000 offers some rendition of the flying fish, from a 75-cent sandwich to pan-seared, aioli-drizzled entrees that fetch up to $35 in upscale resorts.

A sandwich with fried flying fish, which tastes like mackerel, is the Barbadian equivalent of a Big Mac. When golfer Tiger Woods exchanged marriage vows here with a Norwegian model two months ago, the wedding party feasted on the many-finned delicacy.

Processors such as Moseley have developed an art of removing the tiny bones from flying-fish fillet. And local fishermen have honed trapping skills, luring the fish to the surface during spawning season with fish-attracting devices such as floating palm fronds or sugar-cane scraps on which they leave their eggs.

Many Bajans resent Trinidad for not allowing them to fish in its waters.

With its vast oil and gas reserves, Trinidad does not need to grab the strayed stock that is vital to Barbados’ cuisine, economy and identity, Bajans say.

“The Trinidadian doesn’t even like flying fish. He never caught them before they moved into the warmer waters,” said Norman Carter, who has piloted boats to the north coast of Tobago for 34 seasons -- until this one. “They just want to catch our fish to sell back to us. It’s just a market to them.”

Officials in Port of Spain, capital of Trinidad and Tobago, contend that Barbados fished out its share of the stock, and make no apologies for treating flying fish as a resource rather than someone else’s national icon.

“The stocks in Barbados waters have been grievously depleted, and we didn’t want a large number of vessels from the Barbados fleet, the largest in the region, descending on our waters,” said Gerald Thompson, legal officer at the Foreign Ministry, explaining why the Trinidadian coast guard began apprehending Bajan captains.

But Hazel Oxenford, a fisheries biologist at the Center for Resource Management and Environmental Studies at the University of the West Indies in Barbados, says such talk of one side overfishing a mobile stock is “nonsense.”

“Fish move, and they don’t recognize boundaries,” said the professor, who has been appointed to provide scientific expertise to the arbitration panel.

Oxenford, a Bajan, says that she is “on the side of the fish” and impartial in the international squabble. She likens the flying-fish stock to a herd of cows moving from one farmer’s land to another’s.

Oxenford said the U.N. panel will not deal specifically with the flying-fish feud but will delineate each state’s maritime boundary and rights to all the resources within it, including natural gas and oil. Such boundaries are usually fixed at the halfway point between maritime states. The flying fish, which live only a year, spawn in waters about 120 miles from Barbados and less than 30 from Tobago.

Francois Jackman, a senior officer at the Barbados Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Foreign Trade, said he was restricted in what he could say about the case by his nation’s Official Secrets Act, but added: “We have no hidden agenda. We’re not trying to take something that doesn’t belong to us.”

He acknowledged that there was the irony in the Bajans’ national icon moving away, and chuckled when he pointed out that the national crest features a dolphin and a pelican, two migratory species.

Bajans must refrain from fishing in the disputed waters until the U.N. panel issues its ruling, which will be no sooner than spring 2006.

An interim accord with Trinidad seems unlikely, as Barbadian Prime Minister Owen Arthur cut off talks with Port of Spain after the February detentions of Bajan fishermen.

Arthur and his Trinidadian counterpart, Patrick Manning, have been snubbing each other at Caribbean Community meetings.

The standoff has made a ghost town of the Oistins fish market in Barbados, where snack shops are shuttered and only a smattering of hawkers have anything to sell.

Still, Bajans back their government’s decision to get an international ruling in the matter.

“It’s the best solution because ... Trinidad has been making problems for us,” said Ophneil Larrier, a captain whose craft remained at anchor.

“The fishermen aren’t working. The boats aren’t shoving off. It’s the worst I’ve seen in my 50 years here,” said Lucy Clark, a 69-year-old fish vendor. “I hope the prime minister can do something about it, but what we need is a miracle.”

Like other fish vendors here, Clark insists that the flying fish belong to Barbados. She doesn’t know much about the legal details or the likelihood that the U.N. panel will issue a decision delivering the fish to Trinidad and Tobago.

Some lovers of flying fish say the territorial tiff has had no effect on either supplies or inter-island relations.

“It’s an inter-government thing. I don’t think it has anything to do with the [common] man,” said Jennifer Slocombe, manager of the Waterfront Cafe in the Barbadian capital, Bridgetown, where flying fish steamed in broth and served with the cornmeal and okra mush known as cou-cou has held pride of place on the menu.

Trinidadian officials argue that the species is just as important to their country. About 8,000 Tobagonians make their living in fisheries, and 50,000 are indirectly employed in the nation of 1.1 million, says Ann Marie Jobity, director of fisheries at the Agriculture Ministry in Port of Spain.

“When compared with oil and gas, the contribution is not significant,” Jobity said. “But you must recognize that fisheries is a stabilizing factor in employment. It’s the employer of last resort. When people don’t have anything else to do, they can always get a boat and fish.”

Like many of her countrymen, Jobity suspects that the Barbadian effort to claim the moving target is actually aimed at more lucrative resources.

“Barbados is the Land of the Flying Fish and so forth, but in terms of industry, it’s the associated species that are more valuable,” she said of the tuna, dolphins and swordfish.

Jackman, the official with Barbados’ Foreign Ministry, sought to downplay the political squabble that has caused some Caribbean neighbors to whisper their dismay to both Arthur and Manning for indulging in expensive legal bickering over a resource that for decades had been amicably shared and managed.

“What is happening now is something that occurs between friends and neighbors,” Jackman said, noting that no shots had been fired between the two countries.

“Instead of going to war, we ask a roomful of old men to decide for us.”