How Diver Fishermen in the Dominican Republic Are Experiencing Climate Change

Photo of diver spear fishing.
Photo by Benjamin Jones on Unsplash

When we think of climate change in the Caribbean, we might think of devastating hurricanes and rising sea levels. Or perhaps the dying coral reefs and their endangered species. All of these images are accurate and concerning signs of climate change, but rarely do we think about how our bodies experience climate change. In other words, how does climate change affect our health? Can changes in our bodies mirror the changes in our environment or changes in our economic landscapes?

To better understand this intersection of climate change, economic shifts, and human health, an anthropology doctoral student at the University of California-Irvine, Kyrstin Mallon Andrews, traveled to a small community in the Dominican Republic known for its fishing and tourism industries. After interviewing and working with local diver fishermen and their families for five years, Mallon Andrews found that the diver fishermen in the region have been experiencing decompression illness (also known as ‘the bends’) at higher rates than in previous years due to rapid changes in climate and growing demand for their catch in the tourism industry.

Decompression illness, Mallon Andrews explains, “is an injury that occurs when the body’s environment changes, when nitrogen absorbed at one atmospheric pressure expands into air bubbles as the body moves to a lower pressure atmosphere, wreaking havoc on joints, nerves, ears, and other physiological functions…The longer a diver spends at great depths, the more saturated with nitrogen his body becomes. As he resurfaces to ambient pressure, the nitrogen–trapped in the body’s tissues, bones, and organs–expands as air bubbles, causing symptoms that range from itchiness, rash, joint pain, paralysis, or even death” (2020: 65).

In the Dominican Republic, diver fishermen call it “catching air,” referring to the expanding air bubbles in the body. It is often described as a sudden and acute injury–one that is experienced immediately after resurfacing–but for many of the fishermen Mallon Andrews interviewed, decompression illness meant living with chronic conditions like paralysis. Some fishermen in the region have died from it, too.

So how did this become a common occurrence? In years past, diver fishermen traditionally relied on freediving in shallow waters for their catch. Rapid climate change, however, has pushed marine life further out into the deeper ocean waters, where diver fishermen must now rely on risky equipment called compressors to dive deeper and for longer in search of fish. The longer and deeper the diver is submerged, the higher their chances are of ‘catching air.’

“There are no more fish in the shallows.”

Local fisherman

The compressors connect the diver underwater with a yolero, or skiff boat captain, on the surface by pumping air supply through a garden hose. While the diver moves underwater, the yolero ensures that the compressor is operating properly, that the hose is untangled, and that the weather remains calm. In this way, compressors also reflect the intimate, social relationships that exist among fishermen in the community. Some even trace the history of each compressor, noting which piece of equipment was responsible for a colleague’s illness or injury. 

Photo by Miguel Angel Avila on Unsplash

The risk of suffering from decompression illness depends on many factors–divers’ health, water conditions, quality of equipment–but the use of compressors lies behind many of the cases described in the article. Local diver fishermen are well aware of the factors playing into the risk, as many of them are carrying forward a long family and regional history of diving and fishing, but the fishing techniques they relied on in the past, like freediving, are no longer useful. As one fisherman put it: “there are no more fish in the shallows” (Mallon Andrews 2020: 69).

But if diving with compressors is so dangerous, why continue? As Mallon Andrews explains, diving for fish is the most lucrative occupation in the region despite its dangers, and it allows for some autonomy compared to other lower-wage jobs in their communities. “The ocean depths may be deadly and dangerous but they are one of the few places where fishermen feel a sense of physical and affective freedom,” writes Mallon Andrews (2020: 76). With diving, fishermen can set their hours and go out at sea whenever they want to do what they enjoy doing.

That is not to say that diver fishermen overlook the risks simply because it offers a sense of freedom and autonomy. Their occupations are also closely tied to economic inequity. Not only must diver fishermen rely on compressors due to the shifts in natural resources induced by climate change, but also because compressors are typically more affordable than the more reliable and advanced SCUBA gear used in the tourism and recreational sectors. Using compressors allows fishermen to lower their operational costs and thus maximize their profits; it is how they can make a living.

Developmental and environmental non-profit organizations, on the other hand, often blame local fishermen for the injuries sustained on the job, depicting them as uneducated or foolhardy for using compressors. Citing biomedical research, which does not take into account the on-the-ground experiences of fishermen or their socio-economic contexts, these organizations argue that local fishermen could more easily avoid decompression illness if they pursue more technical and scientific training.

What this misleading narrative fails to understand, Mallon Andrews counters, is that the risk of decompression illness–and risk in general–is intimately tied to socio-political and environmental contexts. Put more simply, it is not a matter of the fishermen not caring or not wanting to be more careful about the risks, it is a matter of not having a better alternative.

A second point that is often overlooked is that medical treatment for decompression illness is out of reach for local fishermen. Not only must they drive four to five hours to access decompression hyperbaric chambers used to treat the illness, but many of the health practitioners they encounter are not trained in diving medicine anyway. As a result, many fishermen choose to receive treatment at home with family members who have also ‘caught air’ before. It is difficult to ascertain how many cases of decompression illness there exist in the region because these data are not collected in medical databases.

“People accumulate air…and when they keep diving they accumulate more and more until it kills them.”

-Local fisherman

At the end of the day, climate change and economic disparities are the driving forces behind compression diving in the community, and with it: the prevalence of decompression illness. The diver fishermen Mallon Andrews worked with will continue making a living putting their bodies on the line for a demanding industry without basic workplace protections or medical care until they can no longer work. “People accumulate air…and when they keep diving they accumulate more and more until it kills them,” said one fisherman (Mallon Andrews 2020: 76). That is, of course, unless we get serious about addressing climate change and economic disparities.

And contrary to the incomplete narratives that surround them, the diver fishermen are well aware of their occupational risks and how their bodies are connected to their economic and physical environments. Some even claim they are more attuned to the weather after ‘catching air.’

What the increasing incidence of decompression illness among diver fishermen shows is that our economic and physical environments can have an immediate effect on our everyday lives, and the risks many communities around the world take to make a living are all connected to these environments. Understanding risk requires understanding context.


Reference:

  1. Mallon Andrews, Kyrstin. “Catching Air: Risk and Embodied Ocean Health among Dominican Diver Fishermen.” Medical Anthropology Quarterly 35, no. 1 (2020): 64-81. https://doi.org/10.1111/maq.12592