Blue Economy: Why Blue is the future of Bicol

Why is everyone suddenly talking about the Blue Economy? For me, the answer is geographical, urgent and personal too. I grew up surrounded by stories about and from the sea. Our late father, the founder of Mariners, the maritime school in Bicol, was a Philippine Navy officer and educator who lived by the Bicol River in his native Libmanan town, who thought everything water is good. As a poor boy, he worked odd jobs for his baon in elementary school, dreaming of becoming a “big boat” captain, as he watched bancas traverse down the river from outside Lola Banggoy and Lolo Juan’s nipa house. When he made it to the Navy, and after years on board ships, he knew clean waters meant safe waters. He was an advocate for a healthy environment. He co-founded the PHILMEPA, the Philippine Marine Environment Protection Association. I’ve also seen what it means for Bicol’s coastal communities to depend on the ocean not just for food, but for survival. I’ve spoken with fisherfolk whose daily catch has declined year after year. I’ve walked through barangays where storm surges and flooding are becoming routine. I experienced being stranded for days with super typhoon #Cristine. These aren’t abstract climate issues. These are people’s lives.

Bicol is a region shaped by water, geographically, economically, and culturally. And yet, today, the ocean that once sustained us is in crisis. Overfishing, marine pollution, coral reef degradation, and sea-level rise are no longer future threats. They are happening now.

But I believe in hope and solutions rooted in science, community, and resilience. That’s why the Blue Economy speaks to me so strongly, not just as an environmental vision, but an economic one. One that can restore our marine ecosystems while creating sustainable livelihoods.

A few years ago, I invited Dr. Henry Balodaki, a Filipino maritime expert and environmentalist-inventor for ocean current working abroad, to speak with our community at Mariners via Zoom. His message struck a chord: “The Blue Economy is the future of Bicol.” At the time, it sounded visionary. Today, it feels inevitable. More recently at the CSCCII’s 23rd anniversary, I met two young staff of a Copenhagen-based partner behind the San Miguel Bay offshore wind project in Camarines Sur. That brief meeting left me hopeful about cheaper and safer electricity. Here was a real, large-scale effort to harness the ocean and wind power—clean energy that doesn’t just mitigate climate change but can also reshape local economies.

As the climate crisis deepens and inequality worsens, I believe we must rethink our entire relationship with nature—and especially with water. The Green Economy, which focuses on land-based sustainability like forests and farms, has long guided development strategies. But for Bicol, a coastal and archipelagic region, it’s the Blue Economy that must now take center stage.

At its heart, it’s about using our ocean and coastal resources sustainably—to grow our economy, improve people’s lives, and protect the ecosystems we depend on. While the Green Economy covers agriculture and forests, the Blue Economy includes fisheries, ports, coastal tourism, and marine energy. These aren’t just sectors—they’re lifelines for Bicolanos. And yet, I still get asked: “Should Bicol focus more on the green or the blue?” My answer has been—and will always be—Blue. Water nourishes the body not vice versa. Not just because I work in a maritime institution, but because I see water’s central role in our lives every day. The Bicolano in the countryside works as farmer during the day, fisher at night.

Water is life. It covers 70% of the Earth, generates most of the oxygen we breathe, and absorbs a third of global carbon emissions. But it is also in trouble. The signs are everywhere—from damaged coral reefs to dwindling fish stocks. These are not faraway problems; they are right here in Bicol. With more than 1,000 kilometers of coastline, our region is deeply vulnerable—but also full of potential. Restoration of mangroves, coral reefs, and blue-carbon ecosystems isn’t just environmental work—it’s economic and disaster-risk reduction work. When cared for, they reduce flooding! That’s climate adaptation in action.

What excites me most is how the Blue Economy can also be a force for inclusion. It creates jobs and empowers women. It supports coastal social enterprises and strengthens local governance. These are things I’ve seen firsthand at Mariners through our extension work and community partnerships like the Mariners SED project with the CHED. I realize the UN Decade of Ocean Science (2021–2030) should be a big campaign. During recent Blue Economy Forum at Mariners Legazpi, I emphasized one key point: true empowerment comes from having a sense of ownership of one’s labor, not just of marine resources, but of the means to protect, produce, and lead. It is about providing people with the tools and organization they need.

What we need now is action, backed by strong policies and investment. The Blue Economy aligns with the Philippine Development Plan 2023–2028, the Bicol Regional Development Plan, the Maritime Industry Development Plan, and global goals like SDG 14: Life Below Water. But plans only matter if they’re implemented—locally, collaboratively, and with urgency. Take, for example, launching a region-wide project for mangrove restoration and rehabilitation that protects against flooding, storm surges, and typhoons serving as natural buffers, that is a personal wish for the DENR and the RDC in climate-vulnerable regions like Bicol to lead!

The Blue Economy is inseparable from the Green Economy. But in Bicol, it deserves the spotlight. We cannot afford a delay. We cannot afford inaction. At Mariners, the choice is clear. And I hope others will join in this journey for the Blue Economy. For our region, the Blue Economy is more than just a slogan or a global call to heed. It is our future.