Sound of the Sea has broadcast programming designed for fishers and their families since 2016, its airwaves reaching a modest audience of 50,000 people from 30 fishing villages within a 15-kilometer radius of the station\u2019s headquarters on Pamban Island. Twelve radio jockeys now maintain the airwaves 24 hours a day, covering everything from climate change and how it\u2019s affecting local communities, to first aid at sea, to the best way to preserve dried fish. The programming is a lifeline for fisherfolk, helping them make sense of their rapidly changing world and allowing them to share information that strengthens their community and supports their own well-being.<\/p>\n
![\"map](\"https:\/\/hakaimagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/map-sound-of-the-sea.png\")
<\/a>Map data by OpenStreetMap via ArcGIS<\/p><\/div>\n
Armstrong Fernando, the 43-year-old former fisher who established the radio station, says Sound of the Sea is evidence that communication can transform the lives of fisherfolk. He created it to warn them of extreme weather events, which are common in the region. \u201cI believed that the right information at the right time can save lives,\u201d says Fernando. \u201cFisherfolk would rarely heed storm warnings issued by authorities, because they are so used to battling the elements. But when these warnings are issued by their own people\u2014their sons, daughters, friends, and neighbors\u2014it\u2019s harder to ignore.\u201d The station soon grew in popularity and scope.<\/p>\n
Today, Fernando runs a stone quarrying company in Chennai, a 10-hour drive from Pamban Island\u2014his parents had worried about declining fish stocks and long hours at sea, so convinced him to give up fishing. But he never lost touch with his roots. He grew up in a fishing village on Pamban Island, and the need to give back was at the heart of his broadcasting project, he says. Even before he established the radio station, Fernando had worked to help the community. In the 1990s, when fishers from the state of Tamil Nadu, which includes Pamban Island, were arrested and jailed for trespassing in Sri Lankan waters during that country\u2019s civil war, Fernando found ways to bring them medication, donations, and provisions as they fought for freedom. \u201cFish know no boundaries, and neither do fishers,\u201d he says. \u201cBut countries don\u2019t always understand this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Launching the radio station took an initial investment of US $270,000. Various fishing unions came up with roughly half; Fernando contributed the rest. Much of the money went toward state-of-the-art studio equipment and soundproofing. Since the station functions near the maritime border between two countries, it took Fernando four years of wading through extensive red tape to get the license. He also covers expenses where needed every month. The deep investment is worth it, Fernando says, when he sees the change it is creating.<\/p>\n
<\/a>Armstrong Fernando created the radio station Sound of the Sea to give back to the fishing communities of Pamban Island, India. Photo courtesy of Kadal Osai<\/p><\/div>\n
Many fishers tune into Sound of the Sea, both on land and out on the water, with old-fashioned, handheld transistor radios. Away from shore, they add antenna coils to improve reception. Fishing boats in this part of the world\u2014often simple canoes, sailboats, and motorized trawlers\u2014are seldom equipped with built-in radios.<\/p>\n
Zeenath Rabiya joined Sound of the Sea in 2018 after her father, a fisherman, told her how much he loved listening to the station during long hours at sea. Radio came into her life at a stressful time; she was six months into an English literature degree at a local university when she married, but her in-laws saw no value in her studies. Dropping out was painful, 27-year-old Rabiya says, because she wanted to do something meaningful. When she was hired by the radio station, she was overjoyed.<\/p>\n
Her first show didn\u2019t even have a name. \u201cI was in training and my sole objective was to connect with the community,\u201d she says. For the three hours she was on air, Rabiya would give her listeners weather updates and keep them abreast of the news. \u201cI\u2019d read three to four papers a day, especially the evening papers, scouring them for news that would apply to the fishing community. If there were scholarships for students, government schemes, and loans that fishing folk or women could avail of, we\u2019d make sure they knew about it,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
Rabiya lives in Mandapam, a small coastal town to the west of Pamban Island with a population of about 18,000 people, mostly fishers. Her daily commute takes her across a picturesque bridge overlooking Palk Bay and the Gulf of Mannar, which together form a fiercely protected and ecologically fragile zone between India and Sri Lanka that\u2019s vital to her listeners. The area contains rich biodiversity within coral, seagrass, and mangrove ecosystems. The shallow waters of the gulf alone are carpeted with 15 species of seagrass and are the feeding grounds of dugongs. They are also home to 450 of India\u2019s finfish species, at least 79 species of crustaceans, roughly 108 species of sponges, and five species of sea turtles (four of them endangered). In these busy waters, Pamban Island\u2019s fishers chase sardine, deep-sea lobster, pomfret, butterfish, murrel, and prawn.<\/p>\n
While most fishers in Pamban Island\u2019s communities are male, in recent years, many women have started taking to the sea to supplement their family income. Some gather seaweed; others harvest pearls for local industries. Rabiya interviews many such women on air, bringing to light hidden struggles. One of the fisherwomen, named Suganthi, who goes only by her first name, told Rabiya recently how gathering seaweed is more difficult than it sounds. Suganthi described how she stands in neck-deep water all day, and how her hand is often laced with cuts from sharp rocks. Shocked, Rabiya asked if she stops to treat her wounds and Suganthi laughed. \u201cWho has the luxury to stop for first aid?\u201d<\/p>\n
Listeners, many of them wives of fishermen, also call in with tips on health, nutrition, cooking, and even beauty.<\/p>\n
Some callers just want to reach out to be heard. Six months after Sound of the Sea was up and running, 51-year-old Mukesh Sridharan, a former fisher, recited his poetry on air. He had written the poem in the early hours of December 27, 2004, the day after the Indian Ocean tsunami killed over 16,000 people in coastal India. He had been alone in his hut in Mandapam, sleeping on a wooden cot, when the disaster struck. The tidal wave didn\u2019t reach him, and he didn\u2019t sustain injuries, despite the roof of his hut being severely damaged by wind. But the sorrow he found when he emerged has no parallel: parents washed away, separated from their babies; bewildered children alone and crying on the shore; people who had lost their loved ones, their homes, and every single possession. He put those searing images in his verse. \u201cWe experienced so much terror, so much pain and loss, but we rarely talk about it,\u201d he says. \u201cI wanted to change that.\u201d<\/p>\n
On air he read, \u201cYou are the powerful waters that rule our lives; we are your family. You are both our blessing and our curse. We live and die by your will. A prayer for peace, as we enter a new dawn.\u201d<\/p>\n
As the radio station\u2019s impact grew, the discussions the hosts held on air became more nuanced. Climate change and marine conservation were at the forefront of many discussions in 2019. \u201cThe intent is to help listeners realize they need to care for the environment, if only to protect their own livelihood,\u201d says Gayathri Usman, the 36-year-old station manager. \u201cThese are problems that we have seen these communities grapple with for a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n