From sea to market: Adapting to the fuel price shock

Every fishing trip starts with money already spent. Fuel must be paid for before a single fish is caught, with no guarantee that the day’s catch will cover the cost. When fuel prices skyrocketed, fishers, boat operators, middlemen and vendors had to adapt, fishing less, sharing costs, diversifying their incomes or deciding how much of the increase they could pass on.

Although fuel prices have eased from their peak, they remain above pre-Middle East crisis levels, and the financial consequences have lingered across livelihoods, local food systems and coastal communities.

Fishing less, doing things differently

For fishers, fuel is the first investment of every trip. As Alatini, a fisherman and vendor, explained, there was no guarantee that the catch would recover the fuel already used. Catching his own fish offered some protection because he was less exposed to the higher purchase prices faced by vendors buying fish for resale.

Others changed how often, and how, they fished. Edward and Laisa, fishers and vendors at Suva Market, cut their fishing trips from five or six a week to just two or three when fuel costs became harder to justify. They shared boats with other fishers and even switched off their engines near shore, rowing the remaining distance to conserve fuel.

These decisions mattered beyond individual boats. Fishing less meant less catch reaching local markets, showing how a fuel price shock can move quickly from the fuel pump into the local food system.

Diversifying to spread the shock

But fishing less was not the only response.

Simeli, based at Bau Landing, combined fishing and crabbing three days a week with operating a water taxi on weekends, a diversified livelihood that gave him more than one source of income when costs rose.

When fuel prices increased, he adjusted selectively. Adult water-taxi fares rose from FJ$2 to FJ$3, while fares for schoolchildren remained unchanged. He reported that passenger numbers remained stable, showing the relatively price-inelastic nature of the demand. He also increased the price of fish sold to his regular fixed customer base to cover higher fuel costs, without losing customers.

Simeli’s story shows how transport costs are interconnected. He travelled by bus to Nausori at least twice a week to buy fuel and sell fish and crabs. While his boating costs rose, Fiji government measures kept bus fares stable, helping cushion the overall impact.

His experience demonstrates that resilience can come from having options: different sources of income, access to affordable transport and some flexibility to adjust prices.

Not everyone was affected equally

Jeni, a shrimp vendor and small-scale fisherwoman, reported little direct impact on her fishing business. Travelling only around 15 minutes by boat each day to set and retrieve her nets, she continued selling shrimp for FJ$10 per pile and supporting her family, including paying school fees, despite noting higher household living costs.

Her experience reinforces another important lesson: exposure depended on fishing methods, distance travelled, fuel use, customer base and business models. Those operating closer to shore or supplying their own catch generally had more room to absorb rising costs.

The pressure moved to the market

Once the catch reached shore, businesses faced another decision: raise prices or absorb the cost.

William Kean, a fish middleman and vendor, paid more to collect fish, transport it to market and purchase ice, but struggled to recover those costs through retail prices. Asked whether he could recover his losses, he replied: “We can’t do much about the losses now.”

Emosi Kumi tried increasing a mussel pile from FJ$5 to FJ$7, but customers stopped buying. He returned to FJ$5 and absorbed the additional cost. Suren similarly kept his prices unchanged despite paying around 25 per cent more for fish because customers could not afford more. Adi Rota summed up the choice simply: “It’s not about the money, it’s about the customers.”

The contrast with Simeli is revealing. Some businesses could pass on higher costs; others could not. Some reduced activity; others diversified. There was no single response to the shock.

Building resilience means creating options

The interviews show that people adapt quickly when economic conditions change, but their ability to do so depends on the options available to them.

Respondents highlighted improved market facilities, lower permit and administrative costs and other practical measures that could make businesses more resilient. Simeli’s experience provides a concrete example: boat registration services coming directly to his community meant he no longer needed to travel to Suva each year, making registration cheaper and easier.

The lesson extends beyond fuel. When economic shocks hit, people adapt, but not everyone has the same room to maneuver. Building resilience means creating more options for fishers, boat operators, vendors and middlemen to diversify, reduce costs and keep Fiji’s local food systems and island communities moving.

Authors

• Lee Everts, Deputy Head of Subregional Office for the Pacific, ESCAP
• Andie Fong Toy, Head of Subregional Office for the Pacific, ESCAP
• Nobuko Kajiura, Economic Affairs Officer, Subregional Office for the Pacific, ESCAP
• Praneel Anand, Staff Assistant, Subregional Office for the Pacific, ESCAP

This article first appeared on the ESCAP website