Initially, local fishermen laughed at the sight of two women gathering weeds in their baskets. “It’s a tough, male-dominated environment,” says Angelita. “Many people didn’t understand what we were doing.” But as the company grew—eventually earning a spot on the menu at Copenhagen’s famed Noma and representing Norway at the prestigious Bocuse d’Or in Lyon—that skepticism turned to respect. Though seemingly novel, their work is part of a much older, global tradition of women working with seaweed. For 3,000 years, Japan’s legendary Ama ‘sea women’ have freedived to harvest kelp. Centuries later, in Victorian England, women—banned from scientific institutions—took up beachcombing, where their work formed the backbone of modern seaweed classification. Today, across coastal Zanzibar and Tanzania, the seaweed sector is roughly 80% female-led, and has transformed local communities by placing financial independence and civic leadership directly in women’s hands.
“Here in Lofoten it goes way back to the Viking ages,” Angelita explains, “when women would stay back to run the farms while the men were gone. Seaweed harvesting was something they could do while staying at home with their children. It’s a tradition we have forgotten in modern society, but sometimes the older generations approach us and say ‘you know, I also picked seaweed as a child.’” This return to ancient ways of working signals a wider cultural shift, as policymakers begin transitioning from dominance over nature to stewardship. “From a female perspective, it makes sense to work with the ocean in a more sustainable, harmonic way,” explains Tamara. “It’s kinder, not so brutal. Success for us means helping to make things better—people’s health, the environment.” Unlike fishing, which begins and ends with the catch, seaweed cultivation demands continuous care. You cannot over-harvest a reef without destroying your own livelihood; to gather from the ocean, you have to nurture it.
