When I was about eight, my family embarked on a trip to Jeju Island, a beloved travel destination in South Korea. This volcanic island is often recognized as the epitome of natural beauty; the vivid, rich green grass, crystal clear transparent blue sky, and emerald green sea first come to the minds of many when recalling Jeju. 

My first morning in Jeju was greeted by its fresh breeze. Breathing in the scent of nature, my mom and I walked into a quaint souvenir shop not very far from where we were staying. Adorned with basalt stones and pristine white shells collected from around Jeju, the shop had a unique charm. As we entered, a light, fairy-like tingle of the doorbell echoed. The first thing that captured my attention was a magnet that illustrated a woman in a black diving suit with flippers and a VR headset resembling swimming goggles. My mom, noticing my fascination, bought the magnet for me, which has been on our refrigerator ever since.

On my subsequent encounter with Jeju, I visited U-do, a tiny island right next to Jeju's eastern coastline. We took a twenty-minute bumpy ferry ride amid the salty yet refreshing scent of the deep ocean. My first meal was Seafood Ramen at a restaurant called 'Mulko Haenyeo's House'. The kind lady at the restaurant served us an additional plate of boiled octopus. We expressed our endless gratitude, our mouths full of fresh shrimp and oysters, and our appetite for the food, which was seemingly insatiable.

While enjoying the taste of the ocean, a woman walked in, friendly, calling out for the owner, yet dripping wet. She was wearing the black diving suit. She was the woman from the magnet! She looked like an avenger to me, and my childhood memories started to fade away. 

I now live in Jeju. I’ve never imagined ending up here until then, but now I am very much satisfied with Jeju. However, I grew to realise that the once inspiring, refreshing Jeju is beginning to lose its beauty. There are problems of over-tourism and overfishing all around the island; plastic waste and used fishing nets are everywhere. Despite fishing being an immensely significant industry for the island, it is too much damage to the island's treasure and its magical enchantment. 

While delving into more of the island's environmental issues, I learned about Haenyeo, the black-suited diver I met years back. Haenyeos are mothers. This motherhood started in the 13th century on this island. They are female divers without oxygen tanks who dive up to ten minutes at a time to dive deep to gather a variety of seafood at the bottom of the sea. They wear wetsuits, diving masks, fins, gloves, chest weights, an L-shaped weeding hoe, and a net attached to a floating device. These mothers dive for seven hours a day to sustain their families. They are faithful sea women proud of their scent of the sea. 

The Haenyeos I met are true guardians of the sea. Although they make a living from the ocean, they all keep one integral constitution-like conviction: 'to leave the ocean as it was.' They minimize the damaging impacts they might have upon the Jeju Ocean, or Badang, as they call the sea in the Jeju dialect. They coexist with the marine world and are almost a part of it. The Haenyeos respect the ocean, and the ocean respects the Haenyeos in return. 

To reduce their impact on the Jeju marine ecosystem, Haenyeos minimize their use of artificial equipment: all they take underwater is their suits and a few metals to use for scraping and harvesting seafood. The Haenyeos believe they cannot easily give away Jeju's treasures. 

Another important rule that the Haenyeos have is to 'avoid over-harvesting.'

Haenyeos only gather abalones of at least centimeters in size. If Haenyeos cannot accurately assess the size of a sea creature underwater, they check again on land and return undersized specimens to the sea for them to grow naturally. This allows the Jeju marine ecosystem to continue in cycles, ensuring the marine life is sustainable. Haenyeos also set a period for when certain sea products could be collected from the sea. They cannot collect the sea creatures during their spawning season, and the Haenyeos consider the spawning season for each sea creature before starting their work. In this sense, I felt like they were the true guardians of sustainability: something that we were increasingly forgetting. 

After grasping the significance of these Haenyeos, I revisited the 'Mulko Haenyeo's House' a few months ago. Having missed that bite of the Jeju ocean, going there once more had been one of my top priorities ever since I moved to Jeju. With a deepened understanding of the Haenyeos' value, I was eager to meet them again. However, I was informed that the Haenyeo I knew no longer ventures into the sea due to her age. Though initially disappointed, I accepted this as a natural cycle of life - recognizing the limitations of age and entrusting the care of the sea to the next generation.

The persisting tradition of Haenyeos and their efforts to coexist with marine life is now an unwanted lifestyle by many who, while respecting the Haenyeos of their hard work, are reluctant to do so themselves. However, the remaining and past Haenyeos are proud of their work. One of them recalls having disliked the job initially, comparing themselves and their tanned and scarred skin to modern and white-skinned women from the city. But now, she says that she stands proud of her independent work, mentioning that the sea feels like her home, where she should belong. The seas welcome the Haenyeos and invite them to come and visit, something that was possible only as Haenyeos have preserved the ocean as it is. Although I do not understand a word of Jeju dialect, the Haenyeos facial expressions and wild hand gestures already grant me courage and warmth, the warmth of passion and perseverance. Although I can not imagine myself in a Haenyeo's "flipper," as a resident of this island, I firmly believe there is a Haenyeo spirit of sustainability in me now.