The Current Situation of Fukushima’s Fishing Industry – From the Perspective of Fisherman’s Daughter – (Part 1)

What do you think of when you hear “Fukushima’s fishing industry”?
To be honest, I believe it is hard for many people to imagine the reality.

While the media actively reports on the efforts of local people such as fishermen, who are trying their best to overcome the challenges, it is also true that there are some topics that people hesitate to talk about. For example, the release of treated water and compensation are considered “taboo”. I understand why people look away to these topics and cover them delicately.
However, it feels like the nature of the issues that Fukushima’s fishing industry is facing are hidden in this “taboo”.
Even though I was born into a fisherman family in Iwaki city and have always worked in the fishing industry, it is hard for me to ask my father, who runs a local coastal fishing business, anything I want to ask him. I have never been able to talk about the current situation of the Fukushima’s fishing industry out of fear that I might hurt the people I love.

In this article, I, whose father is a fisherman in Iwaki and have worked in the fishing industry for over 10 years, will once again report on the “current situation” of the local fishing industry. Rather than speaking like an expert, I would like to share with you the important facts that I have noticed from the perspective of a “fisherman’s daughter”. This column is full of subjective opinions of me, who loves fishermen and my hometown, but I hope you will enjoy reading it.

From “Fishery-Related Person” to “Fishery Person”

Younger sister helping with octopus pot fishing. She is still unsteady on her feet on the rocking boat.

I was a university student in Tokyo when the Great East Japan Earthquake occurred in 2011. After the earthquake, I thought about what I could do for the local fishing industry. However, without any prospect in sight due to the nuclear accident, the challenges Fukushima’s fishing industry was facing were too great for me.
Still, I harbored a faint hope that “I would like to do something for the local fishing industry someday”, and got a job as an employee of a fisheries organization in Tokyo. Even though my job was not directly related with my hometown, I chose my career of being “in the fishing industry”.
I gradually became more and more busy as I dedicated to work. When I got married, my life became more stable. In inverse proportion to getting used to my daily life, that “someday” of “someday for the fishing industry in Iwaki” faded away into the distant future.

Then, a big event had happened, which gave me a supportive kick in the back.
In August 2023, the first “treated water” was released from the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant.

I don’t want to argue for or against here.
Fish from Fukushima are now in store across Japan, and are offered to consumers. As I know at least a little about how many people have worked so hard to get to this point, I was worried about what would happen if all the efforts of the past decade or so were to be set back to the beginning. I grew a disgust of thinking about the conflict of values between people erupting once again. Also, an indescribable chagrin escalated in my mind.
Even though I understood the scientific explanation, I was plagued by an inexplicable sense of anxiety and impatience.

At the same time, I began to feel a need to become a “proper fishery person”.
I realised that even though I had chosen my career of being “fishery-related person”, I actually didn’t know anything about what I could do now or what challenges the Fukushima’s fishing industry are facing.

I considered to stay in my hometown, go to the beach, visit the fishing cooperative, and listen to people’s thought.

In the following month of September, with encouragement from my understanding husband, I began living in two places: the capital area, where my current home is, and my hometown Iwaki.

“Current Fishery in Iwaki” as Seen by a Fisherman’s Daughter

I began my first month in Iwaki by simply observing the current situation of family businesses.
From here on, I would like to introduce some of the conditions I observed.

(Note) This is merely one example of coastal fishermen in Iwaki, and the actual situation varies in each fishing household.

My parents going fishing together. They don’t say much, but they work in perfect harmony to pull up the octopus traps.

Before the earthquake, fishing families (married couple) going out fishing on small boats called “Chakka-boats (small powered boats)” were seen quite often in Iwaki. In my family, my father and mother, and in the previous generation, grandfather and grandmother, would go out on boats together to catch whitebait and octopus. Fishing is done flexibly, changing nets and fishing gear depending on the season and sea conditions.
Families who were not on the boats also helped with landing the fish and other work on shore, and children were taken to the shore to play while their parents worked. That was the scene often seen at the port.

13 years have passed since the Great East Japan Earthquake. Even now, following fishing halts and trial runs, fishing operations have not yet returned to normal scale. My father has started to choose fishing methods that he can do alone, and my mother has taken to mainly working part-time while occasionally helping out with fishing.
Other family members no longer help out at the port.
My father was in his 40s at the time of the earthquake and is now 60 years old. He was influenced by various events, and has settled on his current method over a long period of time, which is suited to his physical strength.

Since I began living in two places, I have also started helping with landing work at the market.
As the way fishing operations have changed since before the earthquake, the market presents a fresh sight to me. Fishermen who previously landed tens or even hundreds of kilograms of fish a day now carefully handle live fish, one by one. Unlike the overwhelming volume and sense of speed of the markets that I remember from my childhood, it feels like time passes slowly. I won’t go into detail here, but it is said that the compensation system is also related to this change.

As I looked at the new fishing scene in Iwaki, I felt a sense of “relief” about the current situation and “anxiety” about the future.
The “relief” was at the miracle that, despite such natural and man-made disasters, fish are still being landed at the market, people are gathering, and the industry continues to operate. The “anxiety” was my feeling wondering whether this miracle will continue in the future.
I also began to see issues that are fueling the “anxiety,” and I would like to cover these in Part 2.

Translation：Hitomi Momma

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