Fish of the Sea and Salt of the Earth: Struggle of Honnavar dry fishers

At the mouth of the Sharavathi river where the river meets the Arabian Sea at Kasarkod Tonka, lies one of Karnataka's most important traditional fishing commons. The beach here is not just a beach. For generations, it has been a fish drying yard, a market, and a home.

A Women-Centric Livelihood

Tonka is an intergenerational fishing community. While men go to sea, fish drying, trading and selling is almost entirely run by women.

According to studies, there are about 150 active dried fish processors at Kasarkod village, down from about 500 a decade ago, while local estimates put the number of women engaged in traditional dry fish processing at around 2000. They belong to Hindu Kharvi and Gabit communities, and also Christian and Muslim families. 

They dry 11-13 varieties of fish - mainly anchovies, mackerel, sardines, ribbon fish - on the open sunny beach with clean sea air. The method is simple and ancient: gut, wash with water from the jetty, salt, and sun-dry for 2-3 days on coir mats and nets. The product is then sold directly to consumers, to hinterlands traders, and now even to buyers as far as Vijayawada in Andhra Pradesh. 

Medha Patkar of NAPM was heard on social media after her maiden some months ago during her visit to Tonka, Kasarkod "Dried fish from Honnavar are sold across Asia. This too is development, while maintaining dignified women-centric livelihoods."

The Commons Under Threat

Since 2016-17, this commons has been under severe threat from the proposed Honnavar Port Private Limited which is Rs 600 crore private port for coal, iron ore and general cargo planned on 44 hectares across five villages - Tonka 1, Tonka 2, Pavinkurva, Mallukurva and Honnavar Rural. 

The fisherfolk say surveyors came one day and "forcibly demolished the area we used to dry fish". A 3-4 km four-lane link road to National Highway 66 is attempted to be built through what was earlier just beach and Olive Ridley turtle nesting ground. 

Local fishers say the road runs through CRZ-III, a no-development zone, and is part of the coastal commons used for drying fish for generations. Heavy trucks carrying coal and ore will pollute the air, making drying impossible. They expressed fear that once the port materialises, the movement of heavy vehicles would pollute the atmosphere and jeopardise their livelihood. 

The impact is already visible: the dried-fish industry that used to operate on the land stopped functioning after the port authorities took over the land.

More Than Fish

For Tonka, this is not just economic. The beach is also a sporadic nesting site for the endangered Olive Ridley Turtle, which locals worship as an incarnation of Lord Vishnu and help conserve with the Forest Department. Scientists describe this coast as highly erosive and ecologically fragile.

Over 23,500 fisher folk in Honnavar, many of them women, and about 6,000 families who rely on fishing face an existential crisis. 

And yet, the resistance continues as fisherwoman Parwati Datta Tandel quips "We are fighting for our rights. We want our land, our business, and our people. We will lead our lives by doing the fish business". 

The dry fishers of Tonka are a reminder that development cannot be measured only in ports and tonnage. It is also measured in the quiet work of women turning fish under the sun, in food that reaches the poorest plates in India, and in a community that asks only to be left to continue its way of life.

Apeksha R. Tandel