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Two figures bend over a ship’s gunwale, busy with a net, their bright yellow oilskins in brilliant contrast to the inky night. A flock of gulls, eerily spectral in the camera flash, frenzied by the impending catch, flap and wheel in a void so black that sea and sky are one. With their backs turned, it is unclear exactly what the figures are doing, but their straining forms and the intensity of the scene suggests swift, coordinated action.
Unlike the quiet serenity that characterises many other photographs in this series, made among fishing communities in Cornwall by Birmingham-born photographer Jon Tonks, this image reflects a precarious – and occasionally perilous – livelihood.
“Being out on the boat, you don’t think you’re in a dangerous situation, but you realise just how quickly it could all go wrong,” says Tonks, whose project A Fish Called Julie is the result of 18 months spent on the coast and at sea, between Newlyn, the Isles of Scilly, Mousehole and Cadgwith. “If you slipped over, went overboard, or got your foot caught in a line, it could be really dangerous.”
Fortunately, Tonks avoided any such calamity during his time at sea, his most severe injury sustained from long stretches holding his medium-format camera aloft. “It felt hilarious at times, being on a fishing boat that’s rolling around in the dark, trying to change a roll of film or make my flash work. And, of course, using a Hasselblad – it’s a mirror, so what I’m looking at is inverted. It’s amazing I didn’t get seasick … ”
The project, which goes on show at the Martin Parr Foundation, Bristol, next month, is part of We Feed the UK, a nationwide storytelling campaign by biocultural diversity organisation the Gaia Foundation, tasking photographers and poets to raise awareness of sustainable food producers across soil, seed and sea. From August 2023, Tonks made more than a dozen visits to the coast from his home in Bath.
“Fishermen are really hard to get hold of,” says the 44-year-old with a wry smile. “It’s not an email situation, it’s a turn up at the harbour situation.” Relying on word of mouth and personal recommendations, Tonks quickly discovered a community willing to collaborate. “First, I went down and had a really good meeting with some people working in the sustainable fishing world to discuss what is considered sustainable,” says Tonks. “Some of the early conversations were about the size of the boat – people suggested sustainability is about a boat that’s under 10 metres.”
Deliberately choosing to avoid big trawlers – which with their superior size, manpower and technology can remain at sea longer, cast nets wider and locate fishing grounds more accurately – Tonks instead focused on smaller boats. These vessels supplied less than 15% of all fish landed in Cornish ports in 2021, yet represent a more sustainable alternative. Not only does their size dictate they pay greater heed to the elements, allowing fish stocks to replenish in bad weather, but with their ability to change quickly between fishing gear – from nets, to lines, dredges and traps – they land a more selective and sustainable catch.
“Fishing in Cornwall is like a metaphor for life,” explains Tonks. “I love the notion that fishermen are completely governed by what the sun and wind are doing, what’s in season and what type of boat they’re going out on.” Working in harmony with the seasons and weather lends the series its rhythm. All-action shots at sea contrast with quieter moments on land; fishermen chewing the fat; Christmas lights in Mousehole on Tom Bawcock’s Eve, the annual festival celebrating a fisherman who braved stormy seas to alleviate his village’s hunger.
This causal relationship between environment and culture has been at the heart of Tonks’s practice since completing his masters at London College of Communication. While studying, Tonks visited Ascension Island, the British-governed territory, roughly the size of Disney World, in the middle of the South Atlantic. That trip became the catalyst for Empire, his 2013 book exploring vestiges of British colonialism on four remote islands. Tonks’s second book, The Men Who Would Be King (2021), saw him once again investigating the legacy of imperialism via ancestral belief systems and the assimilation of Anglo-American ideals on the archipelago nation of Vanuatu in the South Pacific.
Though local by comparison, A Fish Called Julie represents a similar dialogue between landscape and community, a place where, “you’d wake up in the morning, open your curtains and look at what the sea’s doing”. Indeed, the project’s title stems from this close proximity: “I’d been watching these guys off-load their catch all day, and there was this one box with two sea bass with a label on it that read ‘Julie’. It just made me laugh,” explains Tonks. “I don’t know who Julie is – it could be the name of a boat – but it made me think the fish is for someone called Julie who asked, ‘If you’ve got any sea bass, I’ll take them.’”
This emphasis on local, seasonal fishing and consumption represents the urgent policy required by the industry to safeguard its longevity. “We shouldn’t be able to walk into our local supermarket and say, ‘What do I fancy today?’” says Tonks. “You should be asking, ‘What do you have?’ We’re too attuned to having everything we want, whenever we want it.”
Yet in spite of prevailing customer habits, which Tonks hopes will change with rising awareness, the past 18 months have left the photographer with more reasons for optimism than concern. “A lot of the younger guys I’ve been out with are really conscious about longevity,” says Tonks. “They’re very mindful about not catching something because they know it needs time to replenish.”
“I really didn’t want this to be a series of weathered fishermen. Of course, there’s a couple of weathered-looking chaps in there, but there’s also signs of youth coming through. I think it’s important for people in their 20s to see that it’s a viable career option, and there’s enough information and energy for a good future.”
A Fish Called Julie by Jon Tonks is at the Martin Parr Foundation, Bristol, from 3 April to 22 June
