Twenty years ago, Bahía was mainly known as a harbour and fishing town. Then Ecuadorian tourists discovered its quiet beaches, and the market for fish changed very quickly.
Visitors wanted fresh seafood. Hotels and restaurants began buying directly from local fishermen, and for a while it seemed like a simple success story. We sold more fish and received better prices.
But the rest of life became more expensive too. Shop prices rose as more tourism money entered the town. In the end, I am not sure fishermen are much better off than before. The extra money earned from selling fish is absorbed by the higher cost of living.
The larger change is visible among young people. They see the money tourists carry and want to earn quickly. When they cannot find that opportunity in Bahía, many leave for factory jobs in nearby places such as Portoviejo.
Families become divided when young people move away. At the same time, traditional fishing methods are becoming harder to depend on because they cannot compete with more efficient operations.
Fishermen should have a place inside the tourism industry, not only stand outside it selling fish.
A government and PMRC project on a small mangrove island in the Chone River delta is trying to create that place. Fishermen operate the excursions themselves, working with Dolphintours, which manages marketing and some of the practical organisation.
A raised boardwalk about one kilometre long now runs through the mangroves to a lookout point. Fishermen have been trained as guides, and an interpreter can help them communicate with international visitors.
There is also a small exhibition space in the fishing village where local families can sell souvenirs. This means the benefits can reach beyond the men operating the boats.
The long-term plan is for us to manage more of the project ourselves. The municipality and PMRC will continue monitoring and helping where necessary, while the role of Dolphintours gradually becomes smaller.
This matters because outside assistance should help us build independence, not make us permanently dependent on another organisation.
A project succeeds when local fishermen eventually control the tourism built around their own knowledge and environment.
I believe tourism will recover as Bahía rebuilds after the earthquake. This time, I hope fishermen will gain a real stake in it—not simply a larger order from a hotel kitchen.
Fresh fish may sell for more than it did twenty years ago, but higher prices alone do not prove progress. Progress is when fishing families gain lasting income, new skills and a real share in deciding how the mangroves and tourism are managed.