Beneath the bridge that connects A Illa de Arousa to the continent, bright red letters read: “Scallop fishing is prohibited.” It is a warning to tourists who inhabit the sandy areas of Arousa every summer and seek to claim one of the area's treasures protect. Hidden beneath the sand are the precious shells that end up on our tables all year round, but take on special meaning in the days before Christmas.
Since 1978, the A Pastoriza brotherhood has brought together the Sequeiras – the name given to the shell collectors who catch mussels on foot – who spend months planting and tending the sandy areas for their special August, the Christmas holidays. But this year, after an investment of 40,000 euros in mussel cultivation, the Christmas campaign threatens to be the worst in recent decades.
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It's eight in the morning and seafood collector Fran López is consulting the application they use in the brotherhood on his cell phone. The app replaced the inconvenient paper on which catches were recorded and which didn't work well with wet hands. This technology also allows them to check the work plan, where the shellfish are harvested and where the shellfish control and weighing points are located. This week there is a “drought” in the Arousa Estuary (Pontevedra), a particularly pronounced low tide that allows access to areas that remain flooded most days. The meeting point is in Ariño, in front of the promenade of Vilanova de Arousa, the best area in the Brotherhood's territory reserved for these appointments.
The three types of mussels, from left to right, japonica, slimy and fine.ÓSCAR CORRAL
At nine in the morning, the colors of suits and baskets begin to flood the parking lot of the urban field that rises at the foot of the river mouth. The shell collectors reach the meeting point set up by the brotherhood via small stone stairs. This large bay is made up of three areas that differ in the quality and level of seafood production: Ariño, De la Fuente and Esteiro. The Esteiro area is more exposed to fresh water from the rivers and, although it is a large area where work is carried out all year round, the exploitation leaves behind small specimens. “But this year it's worse, you can't work. “Everything is dead in this area,” says the brotherhood.
In the estuary, practically all the mussels are dead due to the sudden drop in water salinity and environmental factors. “But we won't lie, there are mussels in Ariño because we took care of them for six months for this campaign,” says López . In fact, today in this area they will be able to cover the quota of four kilos per sequeiro for the first time in weeks. “It is the best area and it was left fallow for this campaign,” López continues. The protection provided by immersion in a larger volume of water insulates these mussels from pollutants, and the distance from the river mouth protects them from fluctuating salinity. “The Japonica mussel you see in Ariño is the right one for this Christmas,” says the mussel farmer.
The Japonica mussel came to Galicia through the park owners of Carril (Vilagarcía de Arousa) when they decided to use it in the agricultural parks that they own and which they cultivate for their own interest. Although initially considered an invasive species in the 80s, today it is the only one that resists, but its quality and price are lower at 16 euros per kilo. The fine mussel, which was worth around 30 euros per kilo in the days before Christmas, or the nudibranch, which cost around 22 euros per kilo in the days before Christmas, “no longer lives even in this area,” warns López. No native mussels survive in the estuary, and this has a direct impact on their pockets.
Dula Piñeiro, member of the Brotherhood's board of directors and mussel catcher, believes that the problem is not only the chain of storms that hit Galicia this fall, bringing large amounts of fresh water into the estuary, but also the mortality of the seafood. It's not the first rainy winter in Arousa, and although it rained more than twice the average last month, the shellfish collector's suspicions center on pesticides and climate change. “We live in the best place in the world and are gradually taking it away from us,” he complains. “It’s sad to see so many dead shellfish in the sand.”
A group of three shell collectors load the precious shellfish into the baskets and head to the weighing and inspection point under the supervision of Óscar Fernández, the brotherhood's chief executive. The next day everyone will return at dawn, but they don't know if they will be able to collect the four kilos per person that has been set as a limit by the administration and that will ensure the long-term viability of the mussel bank.
Any molluscs that were not selected due to lack of size remain perched in the sand after the soil is removed during the work, but are now more exposed to contamination and changes in salinity. “I try to leave it in the same place so it doesn’t suffer,” says a woman with a hook — a scraper used to collect shellfish — in her right hand. However, they are aware that if they continue to work in the area, they will destroy what little they have. That is why they do not hesitate to call for a biological strike on the eve of Christmas. It would be the first time that the campaign ends at the most wonderful time of the year. “It's like closing a beach bar on a sunny Sunday in August, but we are risking the future of the sandy area,” complains Fernández.
In the morning there is a constant coming and going of shell collectors at the market. You carry the reward of one of the few sunny days. The conversations between them are similar to those in any venue. Each mussel removed goes through the sizer and gradually the blue boxes are filled with seafood. On this day the Japonica mussel dominates, it is the majority, and only at the end of the room can you see a dozen small yellow baskets with slimy mussels. Only a half-empty container shows that this estuary still contains the most precious and delicate of all mussels. That's all they got out of the best area that day.
At three in the afternoon, the auction begins with a dozen buyers bidding on the seafood arriving at the wastewater treatment plant. “I liked looking at it, but I'm tired of it, I'm waiting to see the price on the app,” explains Piñeiro. The situation is also complex at this time of day as the low supply and high demand do not cause prices to rise in the market. In addition, the cleaning companies that buy the seafood and remove toxins from the mussels before marketing know that a lot of seafood from Portugal will enter the national market and they must be price competitive. The Christmas campaign for shell collectors takes place far away from the sandy beach. And depending on the consumer prices in the market, on these days families will choose the Galician mussel, which stands out for its quality, to fill their tables.
Sale of mussels at the food market in Santiago de Compostela (A Coruña), on December 14th. ÓSCAR CORRAL
Bag of mussels at a food market stall in Santiago de Compostela (A Coruña), on December 14th. OSCAR CORRAL
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