As the catch is beginning to pile up in these hand-woven baskets on the shore a village elder looks on and barks instructions as his children and grandchildren place the nets. Many Vezo boys begin learning how to fish at the age of 5, and are skilled enough to paddle their molanga pirogues out into the open ocean by the time they are 10 years old.

Rafidison - elected President of Andika-sur-Mer village looks on. His apprehension was palpable at the meeting that morning; he feared that there had been theft and that the reserve may not live up to his village’s expectations. He’d been instrumental in the push for this reserve, and so his reputation was partly on the line. He looked so relieved and content to see the nets coming back full, and to listen to the young guys whooping it up in the mangrove, that I didn’t want to risk ruining his moment by having him see me snap this photo.

The vice-mayor, who lives in Andika, notes the weights caught by each fisher. He set-up next to our weighing station (we monitor the catch to study the long term impacts of reserve closures like this) and purchased all of the fish straightaway. It’s important to make sure markets exist and buyers are ready on a reserve opening day, or the fishers will see little benefit beyond a hearty meal that evening.

A team of young men and women work to scale and gut the fish- a fairly heroic task considering over 700 kilograms of fish were hauled in over the course of the day. Despite the work, there was plenty of reason to smile.

After cleaning, the fish are salted and sold on to local markets in Morondava, the regional capital.