Protection from the Sea: Patron Saint of Fishermen

Protection from the Sea: Patron Saint of Fishermen

          Tara A. Spears

There is something intrinsically beautiful about the life of a Mexican fisherman. It is a difficult way to earn a living yet fishermen have been romanticized in literature, film, and song. Perhaps it’s because to a land-bound person, there is something idealistic about the way that fishermen pit themselves against the natural elements and face-off against the creatures of the sea. After all, we love an adventure and we like to cheer for the underdog, right?  The allure of the man versus fish contest is fraught with danger because only one can win. Mexico has a deeply religious culture and it is natural that the  fishermen would seek out deities for protection and a good catch.

 Since pre-Hispanic times, recognizing deities, offering sacrifices and invoking spiritual help was practiced in virtually every culture that inhabited Mexico. But after the invasion of the conquistadors, Catholic religious figures began to supplant the pre-Hispanic deities.  In some instances, the Catholic dogma blended with the indigenous spiritual practices to take the form of churches, statues, prayers. Over time, the concept of Catholic saints became important within mainstream Mexican faith.

 According to the National Commission of Aquaculture and Fisheries (Comisión Nacional de Acuacultura y Pesca, CONAPESCA) the importance of Mexico’s fisheries is undeniable, as is their social and economic importance. Mexico today has 300,000 fishermen, both men and women, who support 2 million families in 10,000 rural fishing communities averaging fewer than 15,000 inhabitants each.

The patron saint of fishermen is Peter/ San Pedro. In many small fishing villages there will be some sort of symbolic shore sign for the safety of the fishermen and Jaltemba Bay is no exception. In Guayabitos, on the break wall extending toward the island is a cross. (Photo by seasonal resident, Jasmine Hohensten.) In addition, there is an annual blessing of the boats, usually coinciding with observance of Mexico’s Navy Day.

I wasn’t able to uncover the reason behind the installation of the first statue in Jaltemba Bay. But in 2002, Raul Gradilla donated a beautiful statue of the Virgin of the Immaculate conception as the guardian of Jaltemba Bay and to be the protector of fishermen, tourists, divers and navigators in the area. The statue was installed on the anniversary of the passing of prominent fisherman and restaurateur Salvador “El Gordo” Pineda.  The Virgen de la Purísima Concepción quickly became one of the tourist attractions of the area. It wasn’t long before the community was abuzz with tales of miracles they attributed to the Virgin.

Unfortunately, the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception was stolen from the first place where it was located on the rocks of Coral Island.  The instant outcry for taking the metal statue instigated a retelling of the stories of the miracles.  Surprisingly, the statue was returned days later to Los Ayala beach.  Many believed that it was the venerated virgin that influenced the criminals to return the statue unharmed.  The Jaltemba Bay inhabitants felt that their prayers had been answered and it proved the virgin’s love for this community. It was decided to submerge the statue in the clear waters off Coral island.

After its relocation underwater it was planned that glass bottom boats would provide viewing of the statue. Even later, the Virgin was placed near the beach of Coral Island where visitors can snorkel to see the statue. The statue is removed from the ocean once a year, cleaned, and returned to the bottom of the sea.

In the wake of the pandemic shut down, the fishing communities are especially hard hit. The impact of the global shut down has been devastating to the small family businesses. Most fishermen did not have the financial resources to cope with the pandemic, and need exceeded the provisions available from many fishing organizations. The more distant communities kept themselves isolated; fishermen went fishing and shared their catches with the rest of the village. It became clear to the communities that they should not just sit and wait for help from the government but that they needed to work together for the common good, to share ideas and organize themselves to deal with the crisis. Hence the three food kitchens that provided desperately needed food, medicine, electric bill payment.

It may not be scientific but it surely doesn’t hurt to offer up a prayer to St. Peter and the Virgin as the fishermen head out to sea.  Some people believe in mermaids, after all.