It turns out that there is an island in Fiji made of shellfish shells. Some crabs discovered it

Off the northern coast of Vanua Levu, the second largest island in the entire archipelago of Fijithere is a small island of 3,000 square meters. In a country made up of more than 300 islands scattered in the Pacific, the fact that there is one so small is not a surprise. But when you remove the mangroves and sand, what you have are shells. More specifically, edible seafood remains. The million dollar question now science is done It is whether that huge amount of shells is the work of people or nature. Once upon a time there was an island made of seafood remains. The shell deposit reaches 60 centimeters thick above the average high tide level and is between 20 and 40 centimeters thick on average and its composition is between 70% and 90% edible shellfish remains. Radiocarbon dating indicates that the greatest accumulation occurred around 760 AD, with samples spanning from approximately 420 to 1040 AD. That there is such an abundance of edible species gives a clue to the origin of the island: if it were a natural deposit, what would be expected would be to find an indiscriminate mixture of marine detritus, such as stones or inedible organisms from the seabed. Why is it important. Because everything indicates that this simple and small island is a “shell midden“, a “conchero” or shell dump created by humans. Or what is the same: the physical proof that there was once a community that lived, worked and fed in the area on the coast of Culasawani. Over the centuries, this accumulation of remains became an island demonstrating that even without wanting to, humans can make land without trying. On the other hand, historically there are not many archaeological studies in Vanua Levu and this site It constitutes a great opportunity to reconstruct ancient settlements and their customs. Context. The first time the research team was aware of the island was in 2017, in a general reconnaissance. It was the activity of the burrowing crabs that caught the team’s attention: the crustaceans brought material up to half a meter deep to the surface. In 2024 they resumed the investigation and they confirmed it: It was an island separated from the mainland. The “concheros” are an old acquaintance in the archeology of the Pacific, since they give many clues about how ancient communities lived, what they fed on and how they interacted with the environment. Of course, in this case the shell hole is so large that it has formed an entire island. The mangrove would arrive later, when the settlement had already been abandoned: the relative drop in sea level and the deforestation of inland areas released large quantities of sediment that functioned as a substrate on which to take root. In detail. To analyze it, the research team extracted 20 sediment cores and excavated four pits measuring one meter by one meter. All the remains of shellfish found in the sediments belonged to edible species, more specifically, the majority of the shellfish that make up them are clams of the genus Anadarain addition to other edible bivalves and gastropods and some ceramic fragments typical of human activity. The team found no clear evidence of animal bones, fish remains or stone tools, suggesting that these people gathered the shellfish in shallow waters, extracted the meat there and transported the food in ceramic vessels to another site, leaving the shells behind. Yes, but. In archeology, having the absolute truth is a chimera, but the most solid hypothesis with the evidence found is that it is an island of random human construction. The natural alternative involves a large wave or tsunami, but it is ruled out: it would carry away all types of marine organisms, not just those that are eaten. There is still one pending issue: where exactly the people who processed that seafood in the place lived. The team’s next step is to explore the mainland area near Culasawani to find the associated village and better understand how the entire system worked. And they are racing against the clock: what barely peeks through the mangroves is tremendously vulnerable to rising sea levels, a threat about which the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has already warned. In Xataka | A man bought a desert island in 1962: he planted 16,000 trees and turned it into an anti-rich sanctuary In Xataka | A billionaire bought an island in Hawaii for himself and his friends. So the locals had to leave Cover | Zunnoon Ahmed and Eduardo Gorghetto

In Galicia, shellfish harvesters are capturing clams and then returning them to the sea. There is a reason and it is in Canada

The normal thing when shellfish harvesters collect clams is that this product then ends up in the fish markets and goes from these to the fishmongers, supermarkets and finally to the tables. That’s normal. Over the last few weeks in the brotherhoods of Vilanova and Rianxo, in the Rías Baixas, things have been something different: The bivalves arrived at the market, but from there they returned to the sea, a frustrating round trip for professionals that reveals a lot about the market. To understand it you have to cross the Atlantic. What has happened? The news spread a few days ago the newspaper Vigo Lighthouse. Over the last few weeks, some brotherhoods in the Arousa estuary have been forced to withdraw lots of clams from the auctions to return the catches to the sea. It happened on at least one occasion in Rianxo and two others in Vilanova, where the professionals also decided to give up two days of work. In reality, there is little mystery about it: the merchandise was quoted at prices so low that it did not even cover the minimum cost. In order not to undersell it, the shellfish collectors choose to withdraw the lots from the auctions and return the bivalves to the estuary. Was it quoted that low? It seems so. Óscar Fernández, president of the group of shellfish harvesters of Vilanova, remember that at the end of 2024 the group decided to update its prices to prevent its professionals from continuing to lose purchasing power. To be more precise, what was agreed is that the minimum rate for japonica clams would rise by two euros/kilo, going from seven to nine, and the fine clam would remain at 30 euros/kilo, ten more than before. Any quote that fell below that minimum would be discarded. Or in other words, the seafood would be removed from the market to be returned to the sea, which is exactly what they have done in Arousa. “The decision was made a year ago, but until now there had been no need to remove lots of clams from the fish market,” Fernández told Lighthouse. Among the discarded merchandise there was so much japonica clam as fine. Not only that. Faced with the prospect that the rates would not exceed the minimum, in Vilanova they chose to give up two days of work. Better that than underselling. Can it go further? That seafood moves in ‘discrete’ figures at this time of year is nothing exceptional. Summer is behind us and there are still several weeks until Christmas, so the sector is accustomed to November not being exactly a buoyant month. This fall, however, is out of the ordinary. The Galician Fishing platform sample that the average price (market) in Arousa so far this year is €15.05/kilo. They are 50 cents less than the average for 2024 and are far from the 16.38 that were reached in 2023. The figures (yes) must be handled with caution. To begin with, because they show annual averages, so those of the last two years include December. If we look at the monthly data, in October the kilo was quoted at €13.1, its lowest level since March. In November the average has risen again to 17.54. Another key is that the indicators include slimy clams, bicudasfine, blonde and Japanese. However, professionals in the area do not hide their misgivings. “When Noia opened we noticed a big drop in prices. This week they rose a little, but they are still below those of 2024,” comments Fernandez. And what are the causes? More important than prices are the factors that influence them. And the sector clearly points out two: the effect of Noia opening and the arrival of foreign products. “Seafood is coming in from other places,” says Miguel Ángel Iglesias, Rianxo’s senior boss, who warns that the problem is not so much the pressure it exerts on the native merchandise but rather certain questionable practices. “There are people who sell it as if it were from here.” Hence, a greater effort by the Xunta is missing to avoid fraud and mislabelling. “There is a consumer who is willing to pay a little more for our product and we have to prevent them from taking clams from other sources because the labeling is ambiguous,” Iglesias claims in statements to Lighthouse. Just like other branches In the primary sector, shellfish harvesters demand that the authorities demand the same standards for imported products as local products, with the same “sanitary guarantees” and transparent traceability. In the union, of course, not everyone seems to be having the same bad time: in Vilaxoán they have also noticed a drop in the price of, for example, the japonica clam, but in Cambados they have seen a rise in prices in recent days. Is it something new? Not quite. Before the production crisis suffered by the shellfish banks of Galicia, part of the industry has chosen to look for gender abroadin countries like Canada, Italy, Portugal or Morocco. I explained it a few months ago The Voice of Galicia in a comprehensive analysis in which he recalls that, although the competition from the Dutch, Portuguese or Irish bivalve comes from afar, it seems to have intensified since 2023, when (on the eve of Christmas and after strong erasures) the Galician shellfish harvesters found themselves with a challenging scenario: an increase in clam and cockle mortality. Where does the merchandise come from? Now professionals work in a market that has been forced to look for alternatives to cover the demand for seafood, which, in practice, means that the local genus must compete with bivalves from Bulgaria, Ireland, Sweden, Morocco, Portugal, Holland or Canada. “It comes from many places,” recognized in summer to The Voice Trini Lois, a good connoisseur of the Arousa fish markets. “Galicia is the only place where shellfish harvesting did not rebound. In Portugal it was at a low point, but they once again have high production and are selling.” Regarding … Read more

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