The Koli fishers of Mumbai have maintained a profound relationship with the Arabian Sea for centuries. Regarded as the original inhabitants of the string of islands along India’s western coast that make up modern-day Mumbai, Koli communities, which are typically matriarchal, have lived in small fishing settlements, known as Koliwadas, along the coastline for generations.

Kolis are now a minority in the megacity of Mumbai, India’s largest city and its financial capital. Koliwadas can be now be found only in a few parts of the city. But in many ways Kolis remain integral to Mumbai’s culture, and are still a key fixture in the city’s fishing industry.

For weeks or even months at a time, Koli men venture into the Arabian Sea, navigating its waters in small boats and using traditional nets to catch a variety of fish, including surmai (kingfish), bangda (mackerel), pomfret, shrimp, squid, and cuttlefish. Meanwhile, the women of the community play a crucial role on land, overseeing the fishing business by managing finances and selling the catch at Mumbai’s Sassoon Dock.

Today, however, these traditional fishing practices are becoming increasingly untenable for many small-scale Koli fishers and their families, who are under duress from immense changes taking place at sea and on land.

The increasing unpredictability, intensity, and frequency of cyclones over the Indian Ocean — particularly the Arabian Sea — have made once-reliable fishing patterns nearly impossible to predict. Plunging fish stocks, the result of pollution and massive jellyfish blooms, are forcing Koli fishermen to leave traditional fishing grounds and undertake longer and riskier expeditions in unfamiliar waters. The fast-warming ocean further exacerbates this issue, leading to dramatically decreased yields, no matter how far they search.

Additionally, traditional fishing methods are simply no match against well-funded, larger vessels from India and China, which can outcompete them in deeper waters. These vessels frequently violate international fishing regulations and pose significant threats to the marine ecosystem while encroaching ever closer into the Kolis’ ancestral fishing grounds.

“We have to go way further out to fish and are taking more risky and expensive trips out to sea. The economic pressure on us is really high and we cannot compete with our small boats,” says Sunil Koli. “No one has consulted us about how our communities can coexist with these big development projects.”

On land, recent development and infrastructure projects — like the Mumbai Coastal Road, which includes a 13-kilometer bridge, a sea wall, and India’s first undersea tunnel, and the new, 16.5 km-long Mumbai Trans Harbour Link bridge — are likely to permanently alter marine habitats around Koli communities. Weakened laws and the threat of displacement by developers mean this Indigenous community can no longer rely on keeping its ancestral homeland.

Meanwhile, crippling debt has become commonplace across Koli fishing communities, prompting many longtime fishermen to abandon traditional practices altogether. This already dire financial situation was further exacerbated by the pandemic, leading many younger Kolis to abandon the traditions of their forefathers in search of greater economic stability. Consequently, the Koli community now faces an uncertain and precarious future fraught with financial and environmental challenges.

But many others are fighting to hold on. Last August, 1,210 Koli fishers from seven Koliwadas, filed a suit in the Bombay High Court seeking compensation for livelihood losses from seabed disruptions caused by construction on the Mumbai Trans Harbour Link (MTHL). The case alleges that the project severely damaged fish populations and led to a 60 percent drop in the catch. A decision in the case is pending.

“We are not optimistic about the outcome of the still pending court case. We have been fighting a losing battle for so long against powerful forces, but we will hold out hope for some small form of justice,” says Sunil.