BiodiversityFishSociety

Life at Zaytuna – Why Work When You Can Fish?

Note for American readers: Exchange the word ‘dam’ in this post for ‘pond-that’s-formed-by-a-dam-wall’, and you’ll get what we antipodeans mean :)


Photographs copyright © Craig Mackintosh

A few days ago I spotted Geoff wearing a t-shirt with the message “Born to Fish, Forced to Work” emblazoned across the chest. After the swimming pool conversion story I ran a few days ago, I wanted to capture Geoff pulling in one of his own fish, from the dam that is literally just a few metres from the kitchen here at Zaytuna. But, like the t-shirt says, work keeps getting in the way. Trying to save the planet seems to keep one occupied, for some reason.

Anyway, as luck would have it, today I discovered someone who isn’t forced to work – a lad named Thomas, son of Greg Knibbs, who many of you will know (Greg co-taught a PDC in Melbourne with Bill Mollison and our Geoff last September/October). Young Thomas caught four fish today, the largest of which you can see below – a nice plump bass.

I’d heard there were fish lurking in those depths, but except for a few suspicious looking ripples around dawn and dusk, I had no proof until today. Geoff is convinced there are a few twice this size just waiting for his turn, so let’s hope we can photograph one of these another time….

This particular dam, one of several on the property, is seven years old. Before an excavator dug it up, it was just grassland. Now, as well as the fish that Geoff introduced a few years ago, it attracts a great deal of wildlife – cormorants, herons, wild ducks (and our own ducks and geese), and even a couple of shy turtles I haven’t been sneaky enough to photograph yet. I’m personally keen to see some Platypuses move in as well.

On one side of the dam is a food forest, on another some grasses. Each of these attract their own litany of wildlife, and all of these together create ‘edges’ (where two elements or habitats meet each other – like where sea meets land, or shallow water meets deeper water, etc.). Edges are the most productive places, as they allow different species (of plant, fish, animal, insect, etc.) to interact with each other, and the dam is a great example of this. Its non-uniform bottom means there’s a depth to suit many kinds of plants and fish. The dam, the forest, and their contents all work together, along with wider ranging visitors, as a self-sustaining ‘organism’ – a microcosm of ‘gaia’, of planet earth itself. Nothing is wasted, all serve a purpose.


a bellbird drops nutrients into the forest

And, we take from the system, by harvesting fish, but give back also – just a little mind you – by merely being observant in 1) the creation of the system (simply assembling elements to mimic naturally formed ponds) and 2) its management – which really involves no management if step one has been performed well.


a cormorant dries his (or her) wings after feeding in the dam

Thinking about self-sufficient systems, fish, and being forced to work, reminds me of the story of the American investment banker who thought he’d offer a ‘poor’ Mexican fisherman some sage business advice. I’ll leave you with this simple but sententious message, which I’ll put below as both just text for those with low bandwidth, and as a YouTube clip:

An American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, “only a little while.”

The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish?

The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.

The American then asked, “but what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “15 – 20 years.”

“But what then?” Asked the Mexican.

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions!”

“Millions – then what?”

The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

Okay, I lied. I’ll actually leave you with The Gospel of Consumption, as it takes the thoughts found in the story above, and fills it out even more completely. It’s a very worthy read if you’re not… er… forced to go and work now. In which case it is an especially worthy and appropriate read.

 

3 Comments

  1. Of course, in the real world, the Harvard MBA recognises this opportunity and organises for some venture capitalists to invest in his new export cannery venture. He then outsources the fishing to the Japanese fleet who quickly exhaust the near shore commercial fisheries so the Mexican fisherman’s “little while” soon becomes a longer while and then days until eventually he can barely provide for his family let alone “sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos”. The Japanese fleet then walk away from the no longer profitable fishing contract and the cannery closes and falls into disrepair where it becomes a blight on the landscape.

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