Wilfred Luiramo’s community lost every seaweed farm when Tropical Cyclone Maila struck in April. Changing weather now delays the work needed to grow, dry and sell what remains. “When the seaweed products are slow to dry, we cannot package and sell them,” said Luiramo, owner of Haleta Seaweed in Solomon Islands’ Western Province. “This affects the income of everyone in the community.”
Across Solomon Islands, Fiji and Palau, aquaculture farmers say shifting weather linked to El Niño is disrupting production of seaweed, fish, mud crabs and giant clams. Forecasters warn that the 2026-27 El Niño could become a “super” event. China’s National Climate Centre says it is developing rapidly and could become the strongest since instrumental records began; sea surface temperatures in the central-eastern equatorial Pacific were more than 2.5°C above normal in the first half of August.
Income at the water’s edge
Aquaculture generates an estimated US$130-180 million a year across the Pacific Islands, roughly 0.5 per cent of regional GDP. Fisheries and aquaculture account for 7 per cent of national GDP in Solomon Islands. Local households rely on that production for income, school fees and daily needs.
Seaweed farmers in Wagina, a regional hub in Solomon Islands, can earn US$1,200 a month, compared with a national average annual income of US$800. In Fiji, tilapia-farming households can earn US$1,600 gross and about US$700 net per production cycle. Wild mud crab fishers in Fiji, 88 per cent of whom are Indigenous women, can earn 60-70 Fijian dollars a week selling crabs, fish and other marine resources.
Each morning, Luiramo checks seaweed stakes in shallow water, clears debris and examines every line. Continuous rain has forced him to wait. “Today it will rain, tomorrow it’s sunny, and it keeps changing all the time,” he said. Seaweed needs suitable temperatures, salinity, currents and tides. Without sunlight, farmers can’t dry it for packaging and sale. “Sometimes, we do not have sunlight for the whole week,” Luiramo said.
Low tide has also lasted beyond its usual window. “The normal low tide period is around June,” Luiramo said. “But for this year, we still experience low tide from June, July, and August.” Farmers, he said, need to adapt quickly.
Production under pressure
In Fiji, Katarina Senabu Baleisuva checks water quality in her tilapia ponds and feeds the fish three times a day. Fiji introduced Genetically Improved Farmed Tilapia in 1998 to support long-term food security and rural livelihoods. The country now produces about 400 tonnes a year, with more than 350 farms operating across the country, mostly at subsistence and semi-commercial levels.
“When it’s very hot, the water level goes down,” Baleisuva said. “And when the rains come, the water turns very cold and sometimes the ponds flood.” These conditions affect production and make it hard to earn a livelihood. With some government support, she has dug more ponds to store water during dry spells, but she’s finding it difficult to get financial support for aquaculture. She’s also diversifying into agriculture because she can’t rely on aquaculture alone.
Tarusila Veibi, a mud crab farmer in Fiji, makes cages from bamboo and tree bark, visiting them two or three times a day to feed the crabs. She described dry, cold and windy conditions, dying trees, hard soil and falling river levels. Veibi rotates her cattle to find green pasture and plants crops in swampy areas that haven’t dried out.
In Palau, giant clam farmer Patty Kloulechad faces unusually hot, dry weather. High coastal water temperatures and low rainfall have accelerated algae growth in her clam cages, smothering the clams. Deeper water once helped protect the cages, but now it makes routine cleaning harder. Kloulechad said the community has adjusted its maintenance schedule to the lowest tides and is switching to weather-resilient crops at the main farm.
Community response and public support
Farmers are changing their routines as familiar signs grow less reliable. Luiramo once knew three or four days of sun would dry his seaweed. Now he can’t predict the weather from one morning to the next. Baleisuva once knew when rain would come, but now it arrives without warning, followed by heat that dries her fishponds. Kloulechad said she earns less than she used to.
Water conservation is a priority. Baleisuva has dug boreholes to reach groundwater during shortages. Tilapia farmers near creeks fill standby ponds to top up production ponds during droughts; some grow vegetables alongside fish and reuse pond water. Island communities rely on water tanks for drinking and for work such as washing seaweed and fish cages, so stored water serves both household and farm needs.
Baleisuva said rural farmers are left behind and their voices aren’t heard. Luiramo said solidarity has kept seaweed farming alive in his community for around 40 years, despite inconsistent commercial or government support. He called for policies that integrate local knowledge, seaweed-farming expertise and scientific research, saying gaps between government and communities delay responses to farmers’ needs.
Luiramo wants seaweed farmers to diversify into short-term crops such as cabbage, aubergine and tomatoes. “When there is sunlight, we have to be there. We cannot waste any time,” he said, describing work that can keep families near the coast nearly every day. Baleisuva advised farmers not to rely on one commodity and to use integrated farming. Veibi urged preparation, while Kloulechad said her community reviews past strategies, adapts successful practices and conserves existing resources.