HAVANA -- Abel Perez loves to fish. He hates to eat it. But he’s a commercial fisherman. He does what he needs to do to survive.
Today isn’t a good day for Perez. The wind is blowing too hard from the north. He can’t get his boat out on the water. It’s been this way for weeks. Money is tight.
When he can get out on the water, Perez and his 71 year old partner, Arcelio Leon, fish out of a small twelve-foot skiff. For twelve to fourteen hours a day they sit on this boat waiting. They wait for fish—any fish, but typically tuna or blue marley—to bite the bait on the large hand-made nets that they throw into the water.
Sometimes they get lucky. Other times they don’t.
“As we say in the fishing community, just bringing anything in is a good day,” Perez says in Spanish. “Just having something to bring to land period. A bad day is nothing.”
As commercial fishermen, Perez and Leon sell everything they catch to the government.
It’s a coveted business. The Cuban government strictly limits access to boats and a permit is required to fish on the water. The rules are meant to prevent people from fleeing the country.
During the day the government allows Leon and Perez to fish six miles out to sea. At night they can only go out three miles. Someone is always watching.
While fishing off the north coast of Havana, Perez has seen many people trying to leave Cuba illegally. They float passed his boat on flimsy rafts known as balseros. Sometimes, he says, they even try to capture the fishing boats. He has to be careful.
“Some balseros will come up on you to try and capture your boat,” he says. “But you have to ask, where are you going? Don’t you know that you’ll be ocean food if you go out there?”
Though most of his family now lives in the United States, Perez says he is happy in Cuba
