A difficult profession (Malpica, Spain)

(Once again, I wrote this last night but am posting it this morning. Soon I will go meet with Elisa and Gloria!)

Percebeiros have it rough! The barnacles they scrape from coastal rocks grow precisely where it is most difficult and dangerous to reach them -- where white-capped waves break even at low tide. At the trickiest spots or on especially windy days, the percebeiros tie ropes around their middles, which they then attach to higher ground or a strong and trusted friend; between waves, they rush down to scrape as many percebes (goose barnacles -- the Spanish term is about fifty-nine times more appealing) off the rocks as they can before the next wave hits, by which time they have (hopefully) rushed back up. In calmer areas, they still have to avoid big waves by occasionally running up to higher ground, but the rope is unnecessary. It is heart-thumping work! I got a thrill from just watching the big waves crash and break apart on the rocks from a good ten meters up the hill; the wet-suited percebeiros were getting drenched.

The work environment is one thing, but percebeiros also have fascinating work schedules! Like most Europeans, they work ten and a half months out of the year, but a mix of natural and human laws makes their work weeks vary in length from one to five days. Percebeiros can only go out at low tide, which occurs about an hour later each day (today it was at around 11:00, and tomorrow it will be at around 12:00) -- the natural law, gravity -- but they are also only allowed to gather percebes between 8:00 am and 5:00 pm -- the human law. On days that low tide occurs later than 5:00 pm, there's no work and no money. (The five-day maximum work week is also human-imposed -- weekends!)

On a shorter timescale, the rhythm of percebe-gathering varies according to the weather. Diego, a young percebeiro I met (and interrogated) at the lonja this afternoon, told me that, in good weather, there is a pattern to the waves: three or four big waves in a row are followed by a calm during which one can go down and scrape the percebes. In bad weather, there are more waves, but it's the days with neither good nor bad weather that are the most dangerous; it's easy for a percebeiro to get overly confident and be hit by a sneak-attack wave. I have been told that, every year, somebody dies gathering percebes. Diego said that the last percebe-related death in this area happened seven years ago.

Percebeiros are not all men, nor are they all young! In fact, most of the people selling percebes at the lonja yesterday evening (and this evening, though I didn't stay for the auction) were women, and several were well into their sixties. The women always work on shore, though, while the men sometimes go in boats to the nearby Islas Sisargas, and the older people work in the least dangerous places (and collect the least valuable percebes, which are still in demand and expensive!). Also, though it is not done here, percebes can be gathered underwater by divers -- these are of lower quality, because they haven't been exposed to the sun. The best percebes are, of course, the ones that are hardest to get -- crashing waves! aiiie!

And now for something percebe-unrelated: I spent a good deal of the afternoon talking with Elisa and Gloria, two net-menders who talked over each other to give me more information than I could process about the history of Malpica and other nearby ports; the effects on fishing of Spain's joining the European Union; their work on the nets; the repercussions of the Prestige oil spill; their opinions on schools being taught in Gallego instead of Spanish (they are anti); places I cannot miss in Asturias and Cantabria (I foresee more feverish poring over my guide book and maps); und so weiter. They also told me that, since the winds are going to start blowing from the north tomorrow, it's unlikely that the night ships will pull into the Malpica port in the next few days; rather, they'll take shelter in La Corunha. (This means that I can sleep later!) And Elisa offered to lend me a book on Malpica's history and a CD of new and old photos of the city -- I'm meeting them again tomorrow morning. (Not that much later, though.) Wonderful people!