Marco Crisciotti After years of attempts, a Mexican fisherman finds the right method to reforest the mangroves of the San Ignacio Lagoon, saving his village and the fragile marine ecosystem.
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What was once a haven for whales and fishermen alike, the San Ignacio Lagoon, within the El Vizcaíno Biosphere Reserve in Baja California Sur, Mexico, was in decline. The mangroves-that natural barrier to the coasts-had receded and now, the village of El Delgadito lay at the mercy of the ocean.
Fortunately, when nature retreated, one man’s determination surged forward: David Borbón, a fisherman without any academic schooling but with an acute observational mind, found a way to give life back to an ecosystem that was beyond saving.
A paradise in jeopardy
Borbón arrived in El Delgadito in 1980, and it was a virgin paradise. The sea teemed with fish and shellfish; the coast was solid, shielded by dense mangroves, a near-perfect ecosystem. But such balance was not meant to last. Overfishing and extreme weather events disrupted the balance, eroding land and wiping out huge swaths of trees. Between 1990 and 2005, the lagoon lost over 6,200 acres of mangroves, leaving local communities unprotected and in a struggle for resources.
Mangroves are very special trees that contribute a lot to humans and wildlife alike. Without them, the ecosystem in El Delgadito was at the point of collapse.
The challenge of reforestation
Borbón knew restoration of the mangroves was necessary, but nobody had ever done so-there was no book on how to do it. He followed traditional procedures from other parts of Mexico with his first tries but these too proved unsuccessful. While the seedlings would grow in tree nurseries, they’d die when planted-the semi-desert, arid climate in El Delgadito was just too strong for the standards.
Where science was still going to fall short, Borbón looked to keen observation. Hours passed among the remaining mangroves, observing their behavior. The key was in direct seeding: planting seeds in their natural environment and at the rhythm of the lagoon. Supported by his wife Ana María Peralta and his daughter, he had perfected the technique and was getting results that were already palpable.
A success beyond expectations
A 2018 study in Nature confirmed what Borbón was onto: over the course of three years, 30,000 new mangroves had been planted, with more than 90 percent of them having survived. Today, the project has planted more than 1.8 million trees, and El Delgadito has become a national model for reforestation.
Marco Antonio Gonzalez Viscarra, director of the El Vizcaíno Biosphere Reserve, said of the project, “It has contributed to the mitigation of climate change and protection for the community.” Even though the reserve financed part of the effort, this project is in truth the fruit of tireless work by local fishermen.
Sirens among the mangroves
Once, fishermen viewed mangroves as impediments—jumbled roots, awkward branches, a nuisance for boats. Today, thanks to Borbón’s persistence, they understand their immense value. The transformation has been not only environmental but cultural.
“My wife says I have a mistress, that I spend my nights with sirens in the mangroves,” he says, laughing. He has given his life to the trees, his near-manic devotion rivaled only by their own peculiar energy.
And the secret of his success? No magic—just deep respect for nature. “If you try to force it, you fail. You have to listen, observe, and adapt,” he explains. His practical approach has been showing the world in real practice that the restoration of the environment is not a science in many respects; rather, it is an art that requires sensitivity and dedication.
A future rooted in nature
Today, El Delgadito is no longer a fishing village but a sign of resilience and ecological innovation. The community showed that with time and commitment, what was taken by humans and climate change could be restored.
The project by Borbón is a powerful environmental success story- proof that many of the best solutions often emanate from mere observation and love of one’s land. Perhaps, too, from listening to a few of the hidden sirens among the mangroves.
