The first fishing boat that Elsa Vega owned was, by every measure, a modest vessel. It had no cabin, no bathroom and no modern hydraulics. Its wooden rudder was attached to the steering wheel with chains. The storage hold for fish was made of tin, not stainless steel.
None of that mattered to Vega. The most important feature about that boat? It was hers.
“I had an emotional attachment to that little boat,” says Vega. “It was very basic. In Peru, we call them little Viking boats. It was special. It is the one that got me started in the industry.”
Today, Elsa Vega serves as the president of the National Artisanal Fishing Society of Peru (SONAPESCAL), an organization representing the interests of small-scale fishers. Her rise to a leadership position in an industry dominated by men is a testament to her work ethic and a value system rooted in a belief in creating opportunity for all.
Vega’s journey began far from the ocean. Born in the mountains, her family moved to Chimbote, a coastal city in Peru’s northern Ancash region, when she was in grade school. One of the largest fishing ports in Peru, Chimbote became the backdrop for Vega’s life in the fishing industry.
“I wanted to go to university, but an economic downturn forced a change in plans,” recalls Vega, the sixth of eight children. Because her family did not have enough money for her to pursue higher education, Vega chose the workforce instead.
At 17, she started working in a fish processing plant – against her parents’ wishes and cultural expectations for young women in Peru. Her first paycheck was for 20 Peruvian sol – about $5.
“When I left school, it was not the norm for women to work in the fishing sector,” she says. “The idea was that daughters stay at home and the sons go out to work. That’s because of the machismo culture.”
Vega’s first job introduced her to the harsh realities of Peru’s fishing industry at the time.
“I got really sick with rheumatic fever working in the processing plant,” she remembers. After recovering, Vega began working as an “acopiadora” – buying fish on the piers and then selling it to buyers in the local processing plants. She was one of the first women to do so.
“I was 21 years old. I worked day and night,” she says. “As a woman, the fishers were suspicious about selling me their fish. And the buyers didn’t want to buy from me. They didn’t take me seriously. I really had to fight to get that respect.”
To survive in such a male-dominated space, Vega says she had to adapt. “There’s a very specific type of vulgar language that the fishers like to use. I had to become very masculine myself. I got to be very tough,” she says.
By the age of 24, Vega had saved enough to buy her first vessel, marking the beginning of her career as a boat owner. Again, she was among the first female boat owners in Chimbote.
Beyond facing gender discrimination on the job, Vega had to overcome the significant challenges of being a fishing boat owner as she expanded her fleet.
“I had to deal with boats ending up on the coast of Colombia because of motor failures. I was always managing problems with crews. It is a very difficult line of work,” she explains.
Vega’s ability to manage relationships both on the fishing piers and in buyers’ offices paid off. Today, she owns eight fishing boats.
Her understanding of the industry’s day-to-day demands also made her acutely aware of the poor treatment of small-scale fishers who lacked a voice in Peru’s industry.
Seeing the need for change, Vega became an advocate. She helped fishers organize and negotiate better prices for their catch. This activism laid the groundwork for her later role in SONAPESCAL.
Under Vega’s leadership, SONAPESCAL has become a crucial organization for the artisanal fishing community in Peru. The society represents six major fishing organizations that account for nearly 30% of the country's mahi-mahi and jumbo flying squid operations, involving approximately 1,300 vessels. These fisheries are vital to the livelihoods of thousands of small-scale fishers and their communities.
One of SONAPESCAL’s primary goals has been to secure formal access to these fisheries for artisanal fishers. Historically, many of these fishers operated informally, leaving them vulnerable to exploitation and excluded from the benefits of the formal economy, such as government benefits, access to loans and financial credit. The formalization process has been a game-changer.
“In the past, we had no negotiating power because we were informal. The buyers and processors wouldn’t even listen to us,” Vega explains. “Now that we are organized and formalized, we sit at the same table as the businessmen.”
When the formalization strategy was launched in 2021, fewer than 3% of artisanal fishers had official fishing permits. Today, more than 3,400 vessels are in the formalization pipeline.
Nearly 80% of them now hold official permits, granting them formal access to the jumbo flying squid and mahi-mahi fisheries. This is empowering fishers to demand fair prices, access better resources and improve their working conditions.
In addition to improving the lives of fishers and their families now, SONAPESCAL is focused on the long-term viability of Peruvian fisheries by promoting sustainable fishing practices.
“We never used to talk about sustainability. We were only talking about buying and selling. Now, we’re working with organizations like the Peruvian Institute of the Sea to do scientific research about the jumbo flying squid to learn how to better manage the fishery,” says Vega.
Vega’s leadership has also brought needed attention to the vital yet underappreciated role of women in the fishing industry.
“As women, we break through barriers from the moment we get up in the morning. We get up and the first thing we're thinking about is how to feed our kids,” Vega says. “But at the same time, I’m a vessel owner and I'm leading a national organization. As women, we work double. That’s why we're breaking barriers every single day.”
Historically, women’s contributions have been overlooked or minimized, with many women only listed as vessel owners on paper while men ran the operations. Vega says that’s changing.
“We aren't invisible anymore. We aren't ignored,” she says. “Women are present in the entire value chain.”
For Vega, work is about more than personal success.
“It’s about getting a better voice for fishers.” She says her dedication to improving the lives of others comes from the values instilled by her parents. “To always give the best of yourself and help others who maybe have fewer opportunities,” she explains.
Reflecting on that first paycheck of 20 Peruvian soles, Vega is proud of the opportunities she has helped create for others. Her success has helped support her brothers and sisters, and ensured she can pay for her two daughters to attend university.
“To provide opportunities for others fills me with happiness,” she says.
These are the values she strives to pass on. “You don’t do everything for money. Sometimes it’s just for the greater cause of providing opportunities for others.”
As she continues to lead, Vega is already thinking about the future. “I want to leave a positive legacy,” she reflects. “I am proud that one day my daughters will be able to say, ‘Look, our mom did an amazing job.’”
In an industry where women were once invisible, Elsa Vega has not only made her presence known — she has made it impossible to ignore.