Two men stand in a boat illuminated by fire. The man on the left has his arms raised, holding on to many different ropes connected to the necks of birds in front of the boat.
Youichiro Adachi, a cormorant fishing master known as an usho, holds leashes tied to the necks of cormorants as he prepares for cormorant fishing on the Nagara River in Oze, Seki, Japan.
  • Cormorant fishing has been a fishing method in Japan and China for over 1,300 years. 
  • Commercially popular fishing methods put the tradition at risk of disappearing. 
  • More sediment, falling water levels, and higher temperatures are making it harder to fish. 

Under the light of the moon, with sparkling fire swinging from the edge of their boats lighting their way, Gifu City's fishermen are ready to start their day.

Instead of using poles, rods, and lures, the fishermen, known as an usho, use cormorants to retrieve the ayu sweetfish from the river, in an ancient practice known as ukai.

The fishermen are responsible for a team of 10 cormorants raised from hatchlings. They tie ropes around their necks to maintain control of them and prevent them from swallowing any big fish.

But as the climate changes, the practice faces a new set of problems. Increasing sediment on the riverbeds, heavier rains, and man-made flood barriers disrupt the ayu's natural habitats and food sources.

Cormorant fishing was once common in Japan, and a similar method was practiced in early China.
An old painting depicting a man with a long stick standing at the front of a boat while someone at the back of the boat holds a stick with a bird on it.
A 16th-century image depicting fishing with Cormorants from the Ming dynasty.

Once a flourishing and popular practice, ukai has been in decline for decades as more commercially successful practices dominate the market and leave little need for the usho.

Nowadays, most usho in Gifu City in Japan make most of their money from tourism. Tour boats pass by to watch the usho catch fish that they'll later eat as part of their tour.

The practice even gained popularity amongst European aristocracy.
An etching of a woman and child on a boat with a bird surrounded by foliage. The woman rows the boat as the young boy sits in front of her examining a fish.
A 16th-century engraving by French artists of a woman and child fishing with cormorants.

During the 16th and 17th centuries, British and French kings practiced cormorant fishing as a leisure activity.

King James I was known to own cormorants and use them in this manner. There are records that King James I introduced cormorant fishing to other European aristocrats by sending them cormorants as gifts.

The practice of cormorant fishing hasn't changed much.
A photo of a group of usho sitting on the beach and watching their cormorants stand on baskets.
A group of usho sit on the beach watching their cormorants stand on their baskets.

Current usho are amongst the 17th or 18th generation to practice cormorant fishing.

They raise and train their cormorants from hatchlings and follow the same tradition as their parents before them.

The fishing season lasts from May to October, and most usho begin fishing at sundown.
A blurred image of one man in a boat with a paddle while another man stands in water up to his ankle next to the boat to push it into place.
Cormorant fishing master Youichiro Adachi, and his son Toichiro, anchor their boat to a fishing spot on Nagara River.

The ayu that usho and their cormorants fish for are most active at night.

Cormorants are put on the boats in large bamboo baskets and taken to the river to begin their day.
An image of a bird with its beak between the lattice of bamboo that creates the cage that it is sitting in.
A cormorant belonging to the cormorant fishing master, or usho, Youichiro Adachi, sits in a basket before cormorant fishing.
Once on the river, Usho light fires over the water to attract fish and help their cormorants see.
A photo of a head of a bird poking out of the water as fire burns in a basket behind it.
A cormorant swims to catch ayu river fish.

Once the cormorants are in the water, their instincts kick in, and they chase after all the fish scattered throughout the riverbeds.

Usho tie loose knots around the necks of the cormorants to control them and prevent them from swallowing big fish.
A photo of a man standing in a boat with strings in his hands, each one connected to the neck of a cormorant in the water in front of him.
A man holds onto the strings that are attached to each cormorant's neck.

The cormorants have been trained since hatchlings to catch fish and return to the boat, where the usho will massage their neck to get the fish back out.

Cormorants can keep track of how many fish they catch and, if they aren't rewarded with fish for themselves, will stop diving for more fish.

Ayu with beak marks from cormorants are usually worth more.
A photo of a hand holding a fish with several deep cuts from a cormorant beak on its body.
A fish with marks of a cormorant on its body.

Usho have an imperial mandate to send ayu that they catch with their cormorants to the imperial household.

The mandate originates from Samurai Warlord Oda Nobunaga, who was fond of the ayu and worked to protect the tradition, being the first to give the cormorant fisherman the title usho.

But the fish that the cormorants are catching are getting smaller and harder to find.
A photo of four fish lined up horizontally with their heads cut open to reveal their sensory bones.
Ayu river fish heads are unfolded to extract the sensory bones, next to 20-year-old samples taken by members of Gifu Prefectural Research Institute for Fisheries and Aquatic Environments.
The major contributing factor to these changes is climate change.
A silhouette of a man sitting in a chair looking out towards a body of water, looking at the heavy rain falling.
An usho sits in his hut during a sudden rain shower on the river.

Local usho attribute the changes to unpredictable weather. Heavier rains and floods on what was once a calm river have started to disrupt the ecosystem.

Researchers recognized the impact of climate change on local ecosystems.
A photo of two men standing on the rocky bank of a river holding a notebook and taking samples of the water.
Gifu University professors collect water to analyze the environmental DNA of ayu river fish from the Nagara River.

Because of the increased temperatures of the river, reaching a high of 86 degrees Fahrenheit, ayu spawn a month later than usual.

Flood barriers built in response to heavier rains reduce the amount of large rocks flowing into the river bed. The rocks are key to growing algae, which the ayu feed on. With fewer large stones, the ayu has dwindling access to a key food source.

The larger rocks also form a habitat for the ayu, and with smaller rocks and sand in the riverbed, the ayu have fewer places to breed, eat, and live.

As the fish are in decline and the tradition is fading, ukai is now mostly supported through tourism.
A group of people on a boat are served tea by a geisha in training.
Maiko Kikuyu, serves visitors on a viewing boat during a party organized by the nonprofit organization ORGAN, before watching cormorant fishing.

In some cities, boats allow visitors to eat and drink while they watch the usho work.

In Gifu City, one of the most popular cities for cormorant fishing, the spectacle draws in over 100,000 people a year and brings in approximately $2.5 million USD a year.

But climate change has also posed a threat to the tourism business.
A group of people in robes sit on their knees on an observation deck on a river.
Houkan (male counterpart to Geisha) Tatsuji, and Maiko (apprentice female Geisha), Kikuyu, sit with visitors to watch cormorant fishing at a riverside observation deck.

The same environmental factors that impact the ayu have carried boats off course or canceled tours at the last minute.

Recently, an economic development body known as ORGAN set up elevated riverside viewing decks on a trial basis. The decks are an attempt to recreate the boat experience and are even hosted by apprentice geishas and other traditional performers.

As the climate continues to change and industrial fishing increases, the future of ukai is uncertain.
A silhouette of a cormorant fisher kneeling in front of a fire.
A cormorant fishing master sits near a bonfire before cormorant fishing for the night.
With the job being less lucrative, younger generations are faced with a difficult choice.
A photo of a young man wearing a hat and glasses standing and using a computer.
Toichiro, son of cormorant fishing master, Youichiro Adachi, works as a programmer at a Nagase Integrex factory in Seki, Japan.

Toichiro Adachi, the son of the usho, Youichiro Adachi, is training to become a cormorant master but spends his days working computers making high-precision machine tools.

They can either choose an industry job or continue the centuries-old family tradition.
A photo of a young man wearing glasses with his hands on his hips, standing on a boat with his father in the background.
Toichiro (right), stands on a boat with his father, Youichiro Adachi, after cormorant fishing on the Nagara River in Oze, Seki, Japan.

"I want my son to inherit my job, but it's tough to make a living," Adachi told Reuters. "If we cannot catch fish anymore, our motivation is gone and there's no meaning in what we do."

Not only is the loss of tradition at risk, but the bond between the usho and their birds.
A black and white photo of a man holding a cormorant's neck.
A seventeenth-generation Japanese Master of Cormorants stands with one of his birds by the Nagara River in Gibu, Japan circa 1950.
The bond between usho and their cormorants is so strong that their birds will only listen to them.
A silhouette of a cormorant looking up at an usho.
Youichiro Adachi strokes his bird's neck during a daily physical check-up to confirm its health and maintain their bond.

"For me, cormorants are my partners," Adachi told Reuters.

Usho and their cormorants don't just work together — the two spend their whole lives together.
A photo of a man standing in front of a cormorant with its wings open.
Cormorant fishing master, Youichiro Adachi, imitates the fluttering of a cormorant to make the bird mimic him, giving Adachi a chance to check on its health.

Cormorants in the wild live for 10 years, but cormorants under the care of their usho can live for up to 30.

When a cormorant dies of old age, it is ceremonially cremated. At the closing of each fishing season, all the usho hold a vigil presided over by a Buddhist priest to honor all the cormorants that passed away that year.

"They are essentially members of my family," Shuji Sugiyama told the South China Morning Post. "I am constantly checking on their health and making sure they're rested and well-fed. I don't see myself as their master; I am part of their team."

Read the original article on Business Insider