Situated in a small cove behind rocky embankments lies Barangay 11 (Lawin), one of the coastal communities in Cavite City. As the sun begins to set, some fishers remain out in the sea. Among them are Erlinda Ferrer, 52, who dives to gather mussels for a living, and Danilo Lisama, 65, who casts nets in the shallow waters. Their boats produce silhouettes in the distance as they race to fill them before returning at 8 p.m. to rest.
A local is busy intricately crafting nets for use on his next fishing trip. (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
But these waters that have always provided for them now call to be protected in return. Commercial fishing vessels loom over the horizon, threatening to encroach upon the space.
In a Malabon court ruling, private fishing firm Mercidar Fishing Corporation was permitted to operate within the 15-kilometer municipal waters—a previously exclusive zone for small-scale fishing. The Supreme Court upheld this decision in August 2024 after the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) failed to appeal the ruling on time.
The decision sets a dangerous precedent for other big commercial ships to intrude on the fishing grounds depended on by more than two million fisherfolk nationwide, plunging the country into intensifying food insecurity and unabated environmental destruction.
A Stirring Tide
Due to government neglect and corporate greed, the Mercidar ruling revokes a vital provision that serves as one of the fisherfolk sector’s only means of legal protection.
For decades, fisherfolk have relied on the Philippine Fisheries Code of 1998 to guard against resource degradation and widespread poverty through preferential privileges. The policy has benefited people like Ferrer, who has fished in Cavite City’s waters for 18 years as their community’s sole female fisher. Tending to mussel farms has funded the education of her three children and other day-to-day expenses.
Erlinda Ferrer has fished in Cavite City for 18 years as a mussel farmer. (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
Lisama, the president of Pagkakaisa ng Samahan ng Mangingisda sa Pilipinas (PANGISDA), started fishing at the age of 14. His whole family is involved in fishing, with his two sons helping on the boats while his wife and daughter sell their day’s haul to the neighbors.
Danilo Lisama began a life of fishing at 14 years old, specializing in a technique called “palalad.” (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
The exclusive right to fish in the 15-kilometer municipal waters ensures that fisherfolk like Ferrer and Lisama have stable livelihoods to provide for their families, free from industrial competition. However, the Fisheries Code has been challenged by corporations who wish to gain unregulated access to these fisheries.
Mercidar Fishing Corporation, which is majority-owned by the Cordoba family, has a history of bending fishing rules. Gamaliel Cordoba, the former National Telecommunications Commission chairperson, suspended the issuance of identity numbers for a tracking system used to monitor unregulated commercial fishing. Then, on Oct. 25, 2023, Mercidar filed a petition seeking to nullify provisions in the Fisheries Code, including the exclusive 15-kilometer zone. While BFAR has since contested the ruling, it is merely washing its hands after having repeatedly evaded Mercidar’s arguments at the lower court, said Angelito Haban, public relations officer of PANGISDA.
Angelito Haban opposes the intrusion of Mercidar in their municipal waters and calls for the accountability of BFAR. (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
The situation has sparked fears and frustrations in the fisherfolk community because of its implications. For years, they have followed the law, even discontinuing the use of “sapra” or illegal fish traps under the policy. Yet now, its provisions are being upended against them to benefit corporations.
Caught in the Currents
If the ruling stands, big commercial fishing vessels may have nearly limitless access to the country’s territorial waters, operating in extractive practices that will breach the spaces of municipal fisherfolk. Ships already dwarf a local fisher’s modest boat, both in size and efficiency.
Ferrer and Lisama’s boats are incomparable to large commercial fishing vessels that can handle the rough tides and high seas. These large ships usually operate in waters as deep as 300 feet, far away from the coasts. But the ruling allows them to operate in waters less than 42 feet deep—giving them unfettered access to almost 98% of municipal waters.
The disparity in catch is staggering. Commercial fishing vessels can haul up to 3,000 kilograms per hour while municipal fishers only catch half a kilogram per hour. On good days, Ferrer said that they might earn P2,000 per trip, but that is before fuel costs and pay splits, often forcing them into debt. Lisama laments the thought that he may resort to construction work to compensate for lost profits.
On top of the differences in scale, the sudden incursion of a harmful industry in municipal waters will On top of the differences in scale, the sudden incursion of a harmful industry in municipal waters will bring environmental damage through overfishing and marine pollution. Unchecked commercial fishing has depleted the fish stocks of 75% of the nation’s fishing grounds. “Kung yun ang gugustuhin nila kahit maliliit [na isda], wala nang lalaki diyan,” Ferrer said.
Commercial fishing vessels loom over the horizon, threatening to encroach upon the space. (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
These threats will exacerbate the precarious livelihoods of fisherfolk who already share municipal waters among themselves. The Philippines is recording the worst municipal fish output in two decades, falling to 15% from 2014 to 2023, while commercial fisheries production rose by 4.2%. Habitat degradation and pollution—worsened by commercial vessels disregarding fishing regulations—are among the factors that contributed to this decline.
As commercial operators tighten their grip, fish production is threatened to decline further, resulting in far-reaching consequences beyond the sector.
PANGISDA believes consumers and vendors alike will be burdened by a highly commercialized fishing industry. Commercial fishing operations primarily supply supermarkets, which often price seafood beyond the reach of average Filipinos. If big ships control nearly all fisheries, there will be no affordable seafood options left, Haban said.
Anchored in Resistance
BFAR has since pursued a Supreme Court review, which has allowed advocates to protest. Local government units have filed petitions seeking to overturn the decision, asserting their responsibility to safeguard municipal waters and their communities. Bishops have also opposed the ruling, acknowledging the unethical prioritization of commercial interests over the vulnerable.
Groups convened in February for the first-ever National Assembly of Municipal Fisherfolk to reinforce calls upholding the Fisheries Code. Haban and his group now fight in the courts, demanding their voices be heard in the legal battle over the right to fish in their waters. On Feb. 27, PANGISDA marched to protest at the front doors of the Supreme Court, pending a motion of intervention on the ruling. “Hindi lang nila alam na magugutom halos lahat ng mga may bangka dito. Hindi lang dito kundi buong Pilipinas yan,” Ferrer said.
Two fishers set sail in the late afternoon to catch as much as they can before returning in the evening. (Lemuel Pabalan/Philippine Collegian)
For fisherfolk like Ferrer and Lisama, what is being taken from them is their way of life passed down through generations. The Mercidar ruling threatens to erase these traditions, walling them off from the waters that have sustained them for decades.
Municipal fishers prepare to face these threats head-on. A unified opposition of fisherfolk, advocates, and local governments stands in defense of these waters against the unwelcome tides of corporate power. ●
First published in the April 8, 2025, print edition of the Collegian.
