Ethnological Values and Opportunities for Establishing a Heritage Policy around Tuna-trapping in Andalusia (Spain)

Ethnological Values and Opportunities for Establishing a Heritage Policy around Tuna-trapping in Andalusia (Spain) David Florido-Corral 56 Tuna-trapping in Andalusia David Florido-Corral Lecturer in Social Anthropology, University of Seville 1. Introduction Bluefin tuna fishing that still continues today along the western coast of Andalusia (in Tarifa, Zahara de los Atunes, Barbate and Conil and other places around the Straits of Gibraltar) (Plate 1. map) is an ancient practice – rooted in the Phoenician/Punic/Roman period (Garcia Vargas: 2001; Garcia Vargas & Florido-Corral: 2011, p.241). It has seen great changes over the years with respect to both the technical systems used and the social, political and economic networks involved (Florido: 2005). A tuna-trap is a passive form of fishing used primarily for catching bluefin tuna ( Thunnus thynnus )1 in huge trap nets. This is done in two phases: during the so-called almadraba de derecho (in an inward-bound trap), when the fish swim close to the Andalusian coast in the Straits of Gibraltar during their genetic migration from the Atlantic to their breeding grounds in the warmer waters of the Mediterranean which are ideal for spawning; and on the return journey, the almadraba de revés (in an outward-bound trap), as the tuna again pass through the ABSTRACT The subject of this study is tuna fishing with traps (also called pound nets and seines ) traditionally carried out off the Atlantic coast of Andalusia in the Straits of Gibraltar. The study is divided into two main parts: the first sets out a concept of heritage that stresses its ethnological angle. A range of cultural aspects and facets of fishing that may be applied in classifying tuna-trapping as heritage is offered, with emphasis on the immaterial and intangible. The second part reconstructs the evaluation of tunatrapping in two distinct ways: one relating to its memory and undeniable fascination for generations of writers and other artists who have focused their attention on fishing; the second offers strategies for classifying certain aspects of present-day tuna-trapping that could be validated as ‘heritage’, to illustrate real and possible, good and poor management practices. Keywords immaterial heritage, ethnological heritage, heritage management, Andalusia, Straits of Gibraltar, tuna fishing nets, tuna-trapping, tradition, heritagisation. Ethnological Values and Opportunities for Establishing a Heritage Policy around Tuna-trapping in Andalusia (Spain) Vol.8 2013 International Journal of Intangible Heritage 57 Straits in search of the food on which they gorge in the Atlantic. Fishing commences at the beginning of April, and the genetic migration trap phase is over by 24th June (midsummer’s day); fishing with the outward-bound traps goes on until August. Schools of tuna approach the Atlantic coast of the Straits during specific environmental conditions–when there is an east wind or one from the south or south-east, when the waters are clear, or when the tuna are being chased by killer whales. The fishing cycle repeats itself almost identically each year: it begins in March, with the fishing gear being prepared and deployed, and continues from summer (inward-bound) to early autumn (outward-bound) ending with the fishing gear being taken in and the repair of the vessels and equipment during the winter. Up to the nineteen-eighties, the tuna economy was based on fish processing and marketing (curing and salting fish and canning in oil [which came in at the beginning of the twentieth century]. However, that this type of fishing continues today can be explained by tuna having become a much sought-after commodity (through deep freezing) on the Japanese market. From the late medieval period, tuna-trapping was a factor in populating the coast, both for the Castilian kings and queens and the more prominent noble families, until families of entrepreneurs took over tuna-trapping in the mid nineteenth century. A large number of these families originated from the Spanish Mediterranean where they practised this method of fishing until the mid-twentieth century. For seven centuries, Andalusian Atlantic tunatrapping consisted of two major technical and socioeconomic systems: up to the 18th century the so-called vista and tiro trap (a ‘spot and pull’ system with moveable nets) was managed by the nobility (the Duchy of MedinaSidonia), which had been granted a monopoly by the crown to deploy fishing gear. The gear was formed by large moveable beachseines which were operated by people on the shore pulling them tight as the tuna passed through them. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the Spanish crown wanted to free fishing from ducal control and withdrew the monopoly from the Duchy. The system used from then on was a fixed trap, which was more efficient at catching tuna and required fewer people to operate it. There are two fundamental reasons for this study. Firstly, there is a historical continuity to Andalusian Atlantic coast tuna-trapping that has given rise to social identities which today are under threat. Secondly, the traps have enabled a valuable cultural universe to be constructed, especially as far as its intangible facets are concerned. As a fishing system, it enables us to catch a glimpse of an age-old way of exploiting nature. The means that have been used to exploit tuna fisheries are intelligence, physical strength and highly-developed senses, the three powers that Zeus had to master in order to crown himself as king of the immortal gods.2 With these three powers the fisherfolk managed to turn an amazing, yet unrelenting, natural phenomenon into a deep-rooted Plate 1 Map. There are currently four tuna-trapping fisheries still active in the Andalusian South Atlantic (Spain), although during the first third of the 20th century there were as many as eleven all working at the same time. Source: Google Maps. 58 Tuna-trapping in Andalusia socio-cultural reality. In his monumental painting, ‘Tuna Fishing’ (1966/67) (Plate 2), Salvador Dali takes the struggle between the gods of Mount Olympus and the Titans as they are shown on the Great Altar of Pergamon as his model to represent fishing. Fishing is therefore interpreted as a metaphor for the mythical struggle between Man and Nature (Romero de Solís: 1996, p.168). 2. Approaches to the concept of ethnological heritage and its application to tuna-trapping Heritage is a concept that is difficult to pin down. It overflows with connotations, such as ‘tradition’, ‘the past’ and ‘immutability’. These notions are indeed at its core, as they implicitly acknowledge that the concept carries a legacy of values and cultural assets that have been handed down the generations unchanged, but they are incapable of illustrating two fundamental aspects: (i) that heritage is always the end result of a process of selection from the present, which means that all elements of heritage are part of the present, of contemporaneity, and (ii) that the elements of a culture that are chosen as heritage change with time. This has two consequences: the elements that make up heritage are themselves dynamic and hybrid, the result of influences and changes (and of the continuous cycle of destruction and recreation), as the raw material of culture is constantly re-worked in the same way that the sea re-works the shore. Secondly, societies change their opinions as to what constitutes heritage and what selection criteria are appropriate for classifying heritage. Some studies have already clearly established what the fundamental trends in European history are regarding the concept of heritage (Ariño: 2002a). They have plotted a line that goes from the monumental to the popular, from the material to the immaterial, from the elitist to the popular, from the aesthetic-artistic to the indigenousethnological, and which can create social identity. Ethnological heritage comes from choosing aspects of culture that have characterised social collectives over time, and which have come to be formidable engines for creating social identity in the morass of globalisation (Ariño: 2002b, p.335). These more-or-less recognisable historical dynamics have to be understood in a social and ideological context as creating their own structural framework in which heritage emerges as a unique category. Firstly, this framework was linked (from the 18th century onwards) to politics, in as much as heritage had to sustain the processes of nationalism that are characteristic of modernism; then, from the second half of the 19th century onwards, the economic angle began to evolve, linked to tourism and the culture industry along with academic and scientific interests. The concomitance between the modern concept of ‘ethnological heritage’ and the notion of ‘anthropological culture’ can be stressed in this respect (Carrera: 2009). Plate 2 Tuna fishing - a reflection by Salvador Dali on the struggle between Man and Nature along the Iberian Mediterranean coast. 1966-7 (304 x 404 cms) Source: Paul Ricard Foundation, Bundol. Vol.8 2013 International Journal of Intangible Heritage 59 Of all the varieties of heritage, ethnicity is one of the most recent (dating from the second half of the 19th century), as it is linked to aspects that were not regarded as valuable until great strides had been taken in modernism, when categories such as ‘people’, ‘traditions’, ‘customs’, ‘folklore’ etc., began to acquire some relevance, whether political, economic or academic. The immaterial aspects of culture - belief systems, religions, ideas, productive activities, relationships with eco-systems, landscapes, literary and musical forms - everything that had formed part of the ways of life of the different collectives, began to be perceived as an ad hoc category - the ethnological, the indigenous, the characteristics of local societies. This awareness led to singularity, both internally and externally, allowing the very people who were at the centre of these types of culture to become aware of their uniqueness, and for scholars, local and/or national politicians and tourists, summoned by a unique and seductive ‘otherness’, to value these supposedly irreplaceable and fascinating aspects of other people’s lives. In contemporary societies, a feature of the way heritage is treated has been repeated again and again: a paradoxical relationship in which aspects that seemed ‘foreign’, ‘exotic’ and ‘peculiar’ were plucked from past cultures by the present, and irrevocable links forged with them. This linkage occurred through a dual relationship of ‘foreignness’ and proximity, of exclusion and inclusion. It seemed to be a fascination for something that was, or at least was perceived to be, going through a process of irreversible change, or even disappearing forever. This so-called awareness of the foreignness of the past (Ariño: 2002b, p.230; Lowenthal: 1998, p.28 ff), is a characteristic ideological feature of modern societies (meaning 18th and 19th centuries in European terms), and became a key factor in the creation of the modern notion of heritage, at the same time as it led to the ‘museification’, emblematisation and objectification of the past, drawing a clear line in the sand with respect to its continuity. For in contemporary societies, when they are no longer functional, traditions are ‘discovered’, or ‘invented’ (McKeon: 2004, p.176 ff), and they are turned into ‘heritage’ (Koeckel: 2007, p.20). In this way, what once was part of the everyday life of collectives becomes totally or partially detached from them; what was implicit, becomes explicit or ‘a cult object’, the subject of ‘musealisation’, of academic reflection, of a political project or a cultural and/ or tourist industry. This is the paradox of ‘heritagisation’ processes in contemporary societies (Ariño: 2002b, p.245), as the action of heritagisation hastens the process of irreversible metamorphosis, even when the intention is to safeguard a tradition. In the case of Andalusian Atlantic tuna-trapping, it should be stressed that, from the time that they began to be used at the end of the Middle Ages, traps were for many years linked to the most distinguished nobility, especially the House of Medina Sidonia. Fishing was thus uniquely privileged throughout this period, a prestigious position fostered even more by the substantial revenue that the Duchy received, particularly during the 16th century. Throughout this golden period the Dukes used to relocate their households to the beach and spend the trapping season there, inviting royal and noble personages to come and admire the spectacle of Man’s struggle against Nature in order to obtain sustenance, while making a (financial) killing in the process. In the 16th century, the whole coastline stretching from Conil to Tarifa, with Zahara de los Atunes at its centre point, was known as the ‘Xaveguer Republic’, as if it were a frontier state bordering on the Berber enemy who inhabited the southern shore of the Mediterranean. Thus a literary, chorographic and essayist tradition was born between the 15th and the 19th centuries which regarded the phenomenon as mirabilia, such was the admiration it attracted from locals and outsiders alike. Its linkage to the Duchy of Medina Sidonia, one of the most powerful noble families in the Castilian aristocracy under the Ancien Régime (from the end of the 13th century to the mid 19th century), was a factor in the prestige that tunatrapping enjoyed in the past (Florido: 2005, p.23 ff). It could even be said that the texts, drawings, maps and plans created a legacy which articulates the heritage of the Ancien Régime – a heritage linked to elites, of major economic significance and separate from the general population. Tuna-trapping has always been unique. As Sáñez Reguart, a naval War Commissioner, a member of the Societies of Friends of the Country, and author of the Historical Dictionary of National Fishery Art, published in five volumes (1791-1795), recognised at the end of the 18th century … this is a most ingenious and interesting type of fishing, without equal to this day, able to demonstrate the point which the fishing industry has reached in an observing practice (1791, I: p.11). By 60 Tuna-trapping in Andalusia presenting the tuna fishers as almost naked men and women, their leathery skins hardened by the sun, air and salt through spending their lives on the beach, a stereotyped image was formed that gave these fisherfolk and their families their place within the confines of the civilised world. So, in the 16th century, the Duke and Duchess of Medina Sidonia organised evangelising missions for their spiritual redemption (Antón Solé: 1965; Herrera Puga: 1981). The Duchy also carried out the military recruitment of personnel, which meant that beggars and those found guilty by the courts could end up being forced to work on the Duke’s tuna-traps in a land that bordered on Barbary. The literary and map-making tradition that was shaped around tuna-trapping recreated its savage and exotic side, despite tuna fishing being a recurrent and commonplace sight on Andalusian beaches during the spring and summer months. In the 20th century, man’s wonder at the great tuna-traps still reverberated in literary and pictorial works and in various documentaries about the industry (Frías and Moya: 2005).3 But from the final third of the 19th century, and during the whole of the 20th, the social perception of fishing took on other meanings too. During the decades when production was buoyant, the ingenuity of this method of fishing, despite its imposing track-record in history, was linked to the onward march of industrial capitalism through the technological innovations in canning and distribution by road and rail. However, in the last third of the 20th century, when production started to decline sharply, the dominant perception of tunatrapping has been one of artisanal, ecological and socially sustainable fishing, based on the know-how of the vessels’ skippers and deckhands. This is when a notion of heritage appears that approximates more to the modern concept of ‘cultural heritage’, and this is what enables the classification of tuna-trapping as ‘ethnological’ heritage in as much as its practices, its technological artefacts and know-how, and its landscapes are linked to ways of life, culture, activities and means of production that are part of the Andalusian community (Article 61 of Law 14/2007, concerning the Historical Heritage of Andalusia). In the same way, the concept of ‘intangible cultural heritage’, as defined by UNESCO in its Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage (UNESCO, 2003),4 is perfectly applicable to the subject of this study. As the cultural devices historically devised by sea-faring fishing societies have been conceived and fashioned to interact with the natural and socio-cultural environment, it can be deduced from this that they generate a hugely effective collective perception of historical continuity and group identity of which the administration’s agencies must be mindful. In other words, in the final analysis, tuna-trapping is considered to be an expression by the local people of a way of acquiring a resource, establishing characteristic social and territorial structures and producing knowledge systems that are apposite for these methods. At the same time, tuna-trapping is also interesting as it can no longer be identified with the Duchy, or with a specific area, but with the Mediterranean, or with Andalusia, as a social, territorial and cultural entity at one and the same time. The paradoxical relationship characteristic of modern societies can also be seen in the way that tuna-trapping is treated in heritage terms, as its ‘heritagisation’ begins to connect with an awareness of its critical situation and the threat of it disappearing all together. My hypothesis is, therefore, that social identity depends primarily on three radical cultural systems which are linked to form a complex whole: cultural systems associated with production processes (work cultures); those which arise out of the distinction between genders (sex/gender cultures), and those that result from belonging to socio-ethnic realities (ethnic cultures, which are diverse in the case of tuna-trapping, coming from both within and beyond the Iberian peninsula). Other variables of social structure should be mentioned, such as age and local place of origin, which continue to be important in tuna-trapping. One of the most powerful heritage values is that tuna-trapping has forged heavily segmented and heterogeneous territories and social systems, both under the stratified class system (up to the 18th/19th centuries) and under the capitalist system. Individuals were ranked according to their job within the industry, their local and socio-ethnic origin, their level of technical expertise and their gender. And since very early times, the demographic, social and cultural history of this fishery has been characterised by hybridisation: Berber slaves, Portuguese, Italians, Valencians and others from the western and eastern extremes of Andalusia skippered and manned the vessels. Catalonian, Galician, Valencian and Italian entrepreneurs and traders from throughout the modern Christian world - they are the Atlanteans of this historical experience. Vol.8 2013 International Journal of Intangible Heritage 61 In short, tuna-trapping is a cultural activity, i.e., it has numerous facets - economic, ideological, religious, political, social, employment and so on. As B. Malinowski explained when referring to the Trobrian Island canoe, behind every cultural element is concealed a set of practices, mental representations, socially-established values and socially-organised institutions that must be approached from a holistic point of view. It will be the expert, either with a theoretical vocation, or with museographic intentions, who will have to reconstruct the ethnological reality of this set of artefacts, relationships and systems from a contextual perspective. The epistemological position that is therefore championed here is that which reveals the various dimensions that cultural elements enjoy (See appendix), transcending the old and much less fruitful debate between the materiality and non-materiality of culture. So, the ethnological dimensions of cultural goods that have to be taken into account are diverse. They include the territorial traces and landmarks of the fishing activities (archaeological remains, buildings and industrial infrastructures); artefacts and technical or economic institutions for the exploitation of the environment (boats, nets, and fishing gear) to intangibles like vernacular knowledge, values and ideological representations linked to the industry; social relationships involved in production and trade systems; management and political institutions and practices and the documented evidence of this tradition; evidence of social activity beyond the boats and working environment (economic and social household strategies, socialisation patterns, the perception and organisation of time, the gendering of social practices); gastronomic traditions; ritual practices and festivals; or specific linguistic expressions and vocabulary. Furthermore, the tuna-trap has generated a documentary, literary, pictorial and audio-visual legacy which shows that tuna-trapping has been appreciated over time as an exceptional activity. This list will hopefully open up the concept of ethnological heritage to institutions and processes that are not commonly included, without leaving out the more traditional processes. It was intended to highlight aspects which, in an appropriate context and under a specific cultural policy, could be classed as ‘heritage’ because they comply with all the characteristic features of ethnological heritage. 3. What should be the basic principles informing a heritage policy for tuna-trapping, and what ‘heritagisation’ strategies would be appropriate? A heritage policy for tuna-trapping should comply with the following principles: (i) Maintaining a balance between the whole range of objectives that all heritage resource management should comply with - research, conservation and activation. If the research involves ethnographical scientific knowledge and is embodied in the cataloguing of cultural assets with ethnological value, conservation involves restoration and preservation, while activation requires actions for exhibiting, disseminating and valorising with the aim of preserving memories, etc. These actions should be undertaken by various agencies: public bodies, civil society organisations and financial bodies. Heritage is interpreted by creating links for feedback between society and the cultural elements that have been selected to be enshrined as ‘heritage’ (Martín: 2006, p.205). Consequently, the evaluation of heritage should be neither an affair restricted to the sphere of science, nor should it be undertaken for the benefit of some specific elite, and neither should it be exclusively commercial - supporting advertising to attract tourists, for example. (ii) Any heritage policy must support tuna-trapping as a productive activity and this is an objective that logically falls outside the remit of organisations devoted to cultural policy. This is a case where a sectoral perspective is not enough; a comprehensive focus is required as part of a regional development policy with specific political strategies for safeguarding the socio-economic and ecological process of bluefin tuna fishing through the use of tuna-traps. This requires a shift in the political perspective from fishing and its artefacts to the fisherfolk themselves. In other words, first the sustainability of the activity has to be guaranteed, and then its classification as ‘heritage’ has to be fostered. This implies moving beyond a focus on safeguarding fishing artefacts ex situ to eventually activating different political channels to encourage the in situ protection of the fisherfolk and their relationship with their environmental and socioeconomic framework. (iii) Local societies should take a lead role either through the institutions that represent them (local councils and higher authorities, fishermen’s guilds and 62 Tuna-trapping in Andalusia other bodies that represent the fisherfolk), through those businesses heavily involved in the fishery, or through the work of heritage and cultural associations and people interested in the subject. The local perspective is consistent with the local angle. The political battle for cultural recognition is also one for the recognition of the place in the world of all the collectives that comprise the world system: championing one position in an increasingly enmeshed and globalised economy (Leff: 2004, p.85). With these premises established, I set out a proposal for selecting aspects that can be activated as heritage on the basis of possible strategies that combine conservation, research and dissemination. 3.1. Conservation strategies and activation: capital goods and documents Proposing a conservation policy for an activity characterised by its sustainability throughout history is very much a paradox; however, there are two areas of action that fit well within this type of strategy - capital goods and documentary and bibliographical repositories. ‘Capital goods’ here refers to the imposing infrastructure along the southern Atlantic coast that is a permanent reminder of the fishery. This includes the chancas , buildings where the tuna were processed and where administrative duties were carried out, and the reales , camps used as storehouses for fishing gear and for keeping sailors and workers safe, with their dwellings, and the torres vigía, or look-out towers, dotted along the whole of the Andalusian coastline which were used for spotting the ‘tuna armies’ as they neared the Straits. Highlighting these architectural and urban landmarks gives recognition to how tuna-trapping marked a territory and its peoples. What is important is that the tuna fisheries were a primary factor in populating a number of places along the Andalusian coast. Knowledge of these capital assets sheds light on some very different historical and social processes; some, the result of policies to settle the ‘frontier’ (Conil, 14th-17th centuries); others to industrialise the tuna fisheries as a way of re-launching the ‘national project’ towards North Africa (Barbate, from the last third of the 19th century); others linked to experiments in state capitalism, creating segregated ‘islands’ within the population, as were done by the National Tuna Trapping Consortium at SanctiPetri and Nueva Umbría.5 The Conil chanca was classified as a ‘Place of Ethnological Interest’ in 2000, according to the Law of Historical Heritage of Andalusia. Within this category are considered areas, constructions or installations linked to ways of life, culture, and forms of production belonging to the Andalusian people that are worth preserving for their significant ethnological value (Law 14/2007, article 26.6). I consider this an example of how heritagisation actions do not always pursue heritage objectives. Today it is home to a museum project and social services that have been strongly contested by the local La Laja Association.6 The restoration was begun in 2008, not without certain avatars that brought to light the conflict between heritage criteria and real-estate policies (Santos: 2003). This has also been the case with Barbate’s old fresh fish market. This was built in 1940 in the so-called ‘ancient port’ area, where the original economic centre of the town had been since the end of the 19th century. However, after 1958 the fishing moved to the new port on the west side of the town. The fresh fish market building was finally restored between 2009 and 2010, but the surrounding area was left untouched. This was not done with any view to heritage, but to provide the town with a multi-purpose building which has little, if any, link to local society. Another case is the chanca -palace (castle) at Zahara (Barbate), accredited as a ‘National Monument’ in 1949. Because of its state of decay, in 2003 it was declared a ‘Place of Ethnological Interest’ by the Andalusian Regional Government after a demonstration by local people. Today it stands opposite the beach, virtually in ruins, only the salt store and the old tuna-trap are left, as it has been converted into a church. This too is the case with the Nueva Umbría tuna-trappers’ installations and buildings, the so-called real (Ruiz, J. and J.A. López: 2002). In these latter cases, what is evident is a total neglect of architectural remains that could clearly be classified according to one or other of the existing types of legal protection found in regulations on historical heritage, the above-mentioned ‘Places of Ethnological Interest’. However, the most astonishing urban complex, both for its size and the administration’s total disregard for its guardianship, can be found at Sancti-Petri, near Chiclana de la Frontera, in the province of Cadiz (García Argüez: 2003). These are all structures which, with proper restoration, could have been turned into performance Vol.8 2013 International Journal of Intangible Heritage 63 areas and museums about the fisheries and their historical avatars from an integrated and contextual perspective, which would have brought the fishery and its territorial and socio-cultural framework to the attention of the public (Martí: 2003, p.103). In 2012 a project entitled Monument to the Tuna drew to its close. This was a landmark sculpture which was put up at the historical sites that are most representative of tuna-trapping in Cadiz province. The success of initiatives of this type depends to a great extent on how well they are promoted. As for documentary heritage, some private institutions have already taken measures to preserve documents linked to the history of tuna-trapping. As the proprietors of the fishery from the 13th to the 19th centuries, the Duchy of Medina Sidonia has accrued a magnificent archive of documents containing news sheets, reports, descriptions and financial accounts (the ‘Statements’) which are today a major resource for historical research (Bohórquez Jiménez: 1999; Araceli Guillaume-Alonso: 2008). The Duchy Foundation7 has also digitised some of the records thus providing better access to this information. If all the existing bibliographic and documentary material was collected together and put on display this would enable us to reconstruct the sequence of images that tunatrapping has generated, from works by men of letters to pictures by painters and artists, from records by monks and friars to, in more recent times, those of scholars concerned for the political economy. 3.2. Research policy and the dissemination of technical, socio-economic and cognitive information Gaining a deeper knowledge of, and subsequently disseminating information about, all the elements that underpin tuna-trapping would provide another great opportunity for a heritage policy. This range of technical devices can best be understood as a tangible aspect of fisheries’ culture which can be displayed and interpreted through demonstrations. Similarly, the vessels used to set up and take down the traps, and each levantá (‘hauling up’)8 involved an array of technical instruments which did not change radically over time, could be displayed in the same way. The Ancien Régime fishing systems ( vista and tiro - ‘spot and pull’) can be shown and explained using a whole range of maps and texts and other documentary material, as can the ancient traps (Plate 3). There are also archaeological remains and evidence in the shape of inscriptions, texts and coins with which it would be possible to create a complete history of tuna-trapping. However, from an ethnological standpoint, the thing that most merits scientific and heritage evaluation is the continuity of knowledge about the two main methods of tuna-trapping. This is applied knowledge, locally-based Plate 3 ‘Spot and Pull’ Tuna Trap of Conil (Cádiz), 1765. Hand-drawn map where the stages of this kind of fishery are explained. The actions and tasks involved are represented in a two part sequence (the first operations are drawn at the top, the following ones at the bottom). The look-out towers ( torres vigía ) are shown. Source: Archive of the Duchy of Medina Sidonia (Sanlúcar de Barrameda, Cádiz. Spain). 70 Tuna-trapping in Andalusia ·Llorca Baus, Carlos, 1994. Historia Marinera de Benidorm (1781-1950). Ayuntamiento de Benidorm. ·Llorca Baus, Carlos, 1988. Almadraba, salazón y cocina. Villa Joyosa (Alicante): C. Llorca Baus. ·Malinowski, Bronislaw, 2001 [1922], Los argonautas del Pacífico Occidental: comercio y aventura entre los indígenas de la Nueva Guinea Melanésica. Barcelona, Península, ·Martí, Josep, 2003. ‘El Museo de la Pesca de Palamós, único de su especialidad en el Mediterráneo’ in PH. Boletín del Instituto del Patrimonio Histórico, 44: pp. 102-103. ·Martín, Marcelo, 2006. ‘La interpretación del patrimonio y la gestión de los recursos culturales’ in Fontal Merillas, O. and Calaf Masachs, R. (coords.) Miradas al patrimonio. Gijón: Trea, pp. 203-214. ·McKeon, Michael, 2004. Tacit Knowledge: Tradition and its Aftermath’ in Questions of Tradition, edited by Philips, M. & Schochet, G. University of Toronto Press, pp. 171-202. ·Moreno Feliú, Mª Paz, 2011. El bosque de las Gracias y sus Pasatiempos. Raíces de la Antropología Económica. Madrid: Editorial Trotta. ·Moreno Navarro, Isidoro, 2002. ‘Cultura Andaluza, Patrimonio Cultural y Políticas del Patrimonio’ in Demófilo. Revista de Cultura Tradicional. Tercera Época: pp. 71-87. ·Ricoeur, Paul, 2003. La memoria, la historia, el olvido. Madrid: Editorial Trotta. ·Romero de Solís, Pedro, 1996. ‘La pesca del atún y su apoteosis daliniana. Reflexiones etnoculturales en torno a los artes de almadraba’ in Antropología de la Alimentación: nuevos ensayos sobre Dieta Mediterránea, edited by González Turmo, Isabel. & Pedro Romero de Solís. Sevilla. Fundación Machado y Universidad de Sevilla, 1996, pp. 149-170. ·Ruiz, Juan and José Antonio López, 2002. La almadraba de Nueva Umbría (El Rompido). Cartaya (Huelva): Ayuntamiento de Cartaya. ·Santos, Antonio, 2003. ‘La Chanca de Conil, Museo de la Pesca y de la Ciudad’ in PH. Boletín del Instituto del Patrimonio Histórico, 44: pp. 104-105. ·Sáñez Reguart, Antonio, 1791. Diccionario Histórico de las Artes de Pesca Nacional. V vols. Madrid: Imprenta Vda. de Ybarra. ·United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation, 2003. Convención para la salvaguardia del Patrimonio Cultural Inmaterial. París.