Field Findings: An Interview with Alexia Chevrier

Alexia Chevrier is a Master's student at Université Lumière Lyon 2 who studies the anthropology of fishing. She just finished 6 months of fieldwork in Papara, Tahiti, in partnership with TEMPO. There, she lived with and interviewed fishers to learn about their perspective on Rāhui, French Polynesia's tradition of temporary fishing closures.

In 2020, the French Polynesian Fisheries Ministry (“Direction des Ressources Marines” or “DRM” for short) authorized the town of Papara to design a Rāhui for their community, deciding where to put the Rāhui, how long to keep the area closed, and if and when to reopen the area for fishing or close a different lagoon. The mayor of Papara formed the Rāhui Tomite (Polynesian word for committee) and decided to create two Rāhuis, closing two lagoons to all fishing for four years. In December 2023, the Tomite voted to open both Rāhuis for one day of fishing in February 2024 and then close them for another 3 years. Chevrier was in Papara for the exciting opening day and explored community opinions of the Rāhui so far.

What’s happened during four years of conservation? According to Chevrier, most fishers in Papara respect the no-fishing rule. Some, however, see the closed lagoons as a target with good fishing, and poach inside the Rāhui. In a small community like Papara, individual fishers’ attitudes and decisions impact community and fishery dynamics. This is exactly what Chevrier sought to learn more about— people’s attitudes and decisions. I sat down with Chevrier to learn about her time in Papara. I’ve edited my interview with Chevrier for clarity and brevity.

Buoy signs are removed from Papara's lagoon during the one-day fishery opening.

 Me: Why is it important to understand fishing in a small community like Papara?

Chevrier: In our work, it’s helpful to understand any community that practices Rāhui. Papara has unique circumstances, though. It’s the biggest Commune (town) in Tahiti and is one piece of the Rāhui puzzle. Plus, Papara has neighbors. People come from Paea and Mataiea to fish. This is different from many isolated communities throughout French Polynesia.

Me: What is the focus of your research?

Chevrier: I wanted to understand how Tahitians think about resource management, what they want to protect and preserve, and how they practice conservation. I was also interested in what the fishers believe about community management. Most men I interviewed make their living from fishing, so I wanted to know what they think about the future of their fishing and how they manage to make a living.

Me: Taking a step back, how did you end up in this community in Tahiti?

Chevrier: In France, I am an anthropology student at Université Lumière Lyon 2 in France. My Master's program is called “Collaborative Research Practice, Anthropological Intervention and Mediation.” I ended up in Papara because I emailed Jean Wencélius (TEMPO’s French Polynesia lead). He was looking for an intern to research the Rāhui in Papara. At first, I didn’t know anything about Papara, but the opportunity interested me. So, we spoke on the phone about the system of Rāhui, and then I boarded a plane to Tahiti for a 6-month stay. 

Me: How did you conduct your fieldwork? 

Chevrier: Once I arrived, I had to find fishers to interview. So, I met fishers who sold fish on the side of the road. I would introduce myself and ask if they would be part of an interview. After each interview, I asked the interviewee for references; this snowballed into a network of fishers. We usually met at their house or at La plage de la Poste — a public beach where many people line fish.

The public beach is where Chevrier met local fishers for interviews.

Me: How did fishers react to a French researcher coming to study the Rāhui? 

Chevrier: I couldn’t quite tell. At first, some fishers were kind of surprised that a scientist wanted to know what they do for a living or learn about their passion for fishing. Many fishers also said they were happy that I was trying to understand them, their opinion, and what they wanted. Three or four fishers weren’t interested in talking with me. They thought that I was there to inspect their catch, the size of their fish, and where they went fishing. The Rāhui Tomite was very welcoming and invited me to their meetings.

Me: What is the Rāhui Tomite?

Chevrier: Tomite just means committee. The word comes came from Aotearoa (New Zealand). The mayor leads the group of twelve people, and each member represents part of the community, including one fisher, one farmer, one cultural representative, and one conservationist—oh, and one retired professor.
Most of all, the Tomite members want to keep the lagoon full of fish. They want to make sure that future generations can continue to fish. They always told me, “Everything we do is for our children.”
 

Me: So, the Tomite manages the fishery. Do the members fish, too?

Chevrier: Not really, not compared to the other people I interviewed. They fish on Sunday but aren’t professional fishers. None of them spearfish, which the young fishers all do. The fishermen I interviewed don’t think of the Tomite as a group of fishermen.

Me: Tell me about conservation and poaching. Is there any illegal fishing? Do poachers get in trouble? What do Tomite members and fishers think about poaching risks?

Chevrier: The Tomite always talks about poaching and enforcement. I can say the same for my conversations with fishers. Fishers blame the Tomite for a lack of enforcement. They tell me, “Yeah, we love Rāhui; it’s very important to us. But, the local government set up a Rāhui without any enforcement. This is a problem because people can fish in the Rāhui at night and get away with it.” 

The Tomite members tell the government, “We need cops, or we want to be the cops here.” The government representative says, “Yes, we have to do something, but the Tahitian Fisheries Ministry doesn’t have enough people.” Nearly everyone wants to conserve the lagoon. But, no one in the community can stop poachers with citations or any other punishment. 

Me: What else do fishers say about the Rāhui?

Chevrier: Most fishers support having a Rāhui in their fishing grounds because it’s a tradition – it’s “very Polynesian.” They care about protecting fish as a food resource. I heard people say that a Rāhui is like a fridge of fresh fish for a later date. But they all desire one change in management. They tell me that they want the Rāhui to rotate. Instead of 2 lagoons closed for 7 years, I heard ideas to close one lagoon for 4 years, then close the next section, and so forth.

 Chevrier discusses Rāhui science with student collaborators for UCSB and the Université de la Polynésie Française.

Me: As TEMPO continues to research Rāhui systems, what further questions would you like to ask?  What can we continue to learn about Rāhui in French Polynesia?

Chevirer: Well, I visited Huahine, an isolated community with a Rāhui. Huahine is very different than Papara; it’s a small island with a small community. I’m curious if there are similar challenges in Huahine. Maybe management is easier there, or maybe different conflicts will pop up.

Me: Lastly, what did you love about your time there?

Chevrier: Ah, so much! One thing I liked the most was the fact that people shared their knowledge and their passion with me. I’m really grateful that I had that chance to learn from them. Fishers were always patient with me; they wanted me to discover and understand how they live and fish. And the fact that they seemed glad to meet me, teach me things. This reassured me.

*End of interview*

Chevrier shows us how to conduct community-based research. We’re grateful for her work in Tahiti and the community members who collaborated with her. Our partners work to build off of Chevrier’s findings. TEMPO will continue to ask social-ecological questions to build scientific knowledge about temporary fishing closures.