Lorraine Williamson
In the northern fishing ports of Spain, where the smell of saltwater clings to the air and gulls cry above the docks, the rhythmic sound of thread passing through rope still echoes. It belongs to the rederas — women who mend and make fishing nets by hand, a centuries-old craft now fighting for survival.
From Galicia to Asturias and the Andalucian coast, these artisans sit beneath the open sky, their fingers looping knots with the same precision their grandmothers once used. Once a common sight in every harbour, the rederas now represent one of Spain’s quietest yet most vital traditions — a link between the sea and the shore that is slowly fraying.
Women at the heart of Spain’s fishing culture
For generations, the rederas have worked in the shadow of the fishing fleet, their labour essential but rarely acknowledged. On cold mornings, they gather by the quayside, spreading vast green nets across the ground. The work demands strength, patience, and an instinctive understanding of how the sea wears away at its tools.
In the past, few were officially recognised as workers. Most were paid in cash, without contracts or benefits. Today, many have registered as self-employed artisans — a move that gives them visibility, yet also reveals how precarious their trade remains. The job is seasonal, the hours long, and the physical demands unrelenting. Still, for those who learned the art from their mothers, abandoning it is unthinkable.
Reinventing the craft: From fishing gear to fashion
On the Cantabrian coast in San Vicente de la Barquera, a new generation is rewriting the future of the trade. Inside the local fishermen’s cooperative, three women — Silvia González, Oana Zamán, and Sandra García — work under the banner of Red_Era, a project designed to preserve and modernise the rederas’ skills.
Beyond repairing nets, they give old materials new life: transforming discarded mesh into handbags, rugs, and even jewellery. Their creations, sold in local shops and markets, embody both resilience and sustainability. “When someone buys one of our bags, they take a piece of our craftsmanship with them,” says González.
Through Red_Era, they also teach workshops, host exhibitions, and invite schools to see the process up close. Children watch, tourists linger, and young women begin to realise that tradition can coexist with creativity — and that the future of Spain’s net makers may not lie solely by the sea.
When the boats come in
But when the fishing boats return to port, the old rhythm resumes. The women drop their creative projects, pull on heavy aprons, and head for the quay. A damaged net can cost tens of thousands of euros to replace. Repairing it is both an art and an economic necessity.
They stretch the nets across large hooks, assessing every tear. “It’s a job done piece by piece,” explains García. “If a section has too many small repairs, we cut it away and add new mesh.” The process can take hours, even days — yet it’s this precision that keeps the fishing industry afloat. Each of San Vicente’s four purse seine vessels has its own trusted redera, a woman who knows every knot of her boat’s net as intimately as its captain knows the sea.
A fragile future anchored in the past
Despite its cultural value, the profession teeters on the edge of extinction. Younger generations rarely choose such demanding work. Pay is low, and the knowledge — passed from mother to daughter — is in danger of breaking its line of inheritance.
Projects like Red_Era offer a lifeline. By blending innovation with education, they make the craft visible again. Their presence in schools and tourism initiatives helps remind Spain that craftsmanship is not merely nostalgia — it’s a living thread connecting coastal communities to their identity.
Holding the fabric of the sea together
The story of Spain’s net makers is a story of endurance — of women who, in silence, have kept the country’s maritime heart beating. Their hands have mended more than fishing gear; they’ve mended livelihoods, families, and traditions that might otherwise have been lost to time.
As modern Spain steers toward automation and mass production, the rederas stand as proof that heritage can adapt without disappearing. With every stitch, they weave together past and future — keeping alive the spirit of the sea that has always sustained them.
Source: El País