{"id":23386,"date":"2026-03-08T08:00:00","date_gmt":"2026-03-08T14:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/el-oceano-costarricense-esta-tejido-por-mujeres\/"},"modified":"2026-04-13T12:16:20","modified_gmt":"2026-04-13T18:16:20","slug":"costa-ricas-ocean-is-woven-by-women","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/costa-ricas-ocean-is-woven-by-women\/","title":{"rendered":"Costa Rica\u2019s Ocean Is Woven by Women"},"content":{"rendered":"

On this International Women\u2019s Day, three voices remind us that the sea is not just a landscape: it is vocation, community, and life.<\/strong><\/em><\/h4>\n<\/div>
<\/div><\/div>

The ocean.<\/p>\n

That vast blue body that holds infinite experiences, crossed by deeply singular stories, stories woven with conviction, resilience, and an intimate relationship with it.<\/p>\n

Like women, the ocean is a life-support system for our planet. On this International Women\u2019s Day<\/strong>, three voices remind us that the sea is not just a landscape: it is vocation, community, and life.<\/p>\n<\/div>

<\/span><\/div>

Andrea Montero Cordero<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Pac\u00edfico Foundation<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Some decisions begin in silence. In her case, they began in the tide pools of a beach on Costa Rica\u2019s Pacific coast. Since she was a baby, Andrea visited that same place with her family; she does not remember the first time she saw the ocean because she grew up within it, as if the ocean had always been an extension of home.<\/p>\n

During what are known as \u201clow tides,\u201d when the sea retreats and reveals small intertidal universes, her scientific curiosity was born. She observed organisms trapped in temporary pools, noticed changes in wildlife behavior as tourism increased, and saw how the rhythm of the coastal community transformed over the years. There she understood that the ocean is not only biology, it\u2019s interaction.<\/p>\n

Years later, that intuition took shape at the University of Costa Rica, where she studied Biology within a comprehensive academic program that forced her to look beyond the sea: forests, population ecology, fungi, terrestrial systems. That journey did not take her away from the ocean; it gave her comparative tools and confirmed that her place was in the marine world.<\/p>\n

Her thesis examined dolphin behavior and the possible effects of tourism. She did not seek to romanticize conservation, but to understand real tensions: local economies, visitors, and the needs of coastal communities. From early on, she wanted to work at the intersection of science and community.<\/p>\n

After founding an organization dedicated to whales and sea turtles, and collaborating with various technical bodies, she became Conservation Manager at the Cocos Island Friends Foundation (Faico). It was the first time the organization had created a technical position of that nature. The context was challenging: Costa Rica had barely around 3% effective protection of its marine territory, far from the international goal of 30%.<\/p>\n

Between 2018 and 2021, she coordinated scientific studies and socioeconomic and political analyses that supported the expansion of the marine protected area surrounding Cocos Island. It was not only about \u201cprotecting more,\u201d but about technically demonstrating the benefits that managing a larger area would bring to different users of Costa Rica\u2019s ocean. Achieving this required dialogue and understanding the positions of technical sectors, tourism operators, fisheries, authorities, and international partners.<\/p>\n

When she speaks about milestones, she mentions being part of that historic moment when the country decided to expand its marine ambition. She also speaks of the satisfaction of knowing that without the technical leadership Faico assumed at that moment, the process might have taken much longer.<\/p>\n

Today, through regional spaces where she promotes the blue economy in coastal communities, and as part of Faico\u2019s assembly, she insists that strategic leadership needs more female voices, knowing that progress toward equity is not linear.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cWe must keep the north clear,\u201d she says, \u201cand continue to make people uncomfortable when necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Her story is the story of a map expanding. Of a percentage becoming public policy. Of a curious girl who ended up helping redefine a country\u2019s marine territory.<\/p>\n<\/div>

<\/span><\/div>

Yenoris Obando Sequeira<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Principal, Playa Torres School, Isla Caballo<\/h4>\n

Do\u00f1a Yenoris did not dream of the sea. In fact, she feared it. As a child, she had an experience that nearly ended in drowning. For years she avoided entering the water.<\/p>\n

Her training was in psychology; her affinity lay in administrative management and social action. She was living on the mainland when she saw a report on television: a school on an island in the central district of Puntarenas had gone months without a principal. No one wanted to take on the challenge.<\/p>\n

She did.<\/p>\n

The position required traveling each week by small boat to Isla Caballo, an island in the Gulf of Nicoya where, for years, there was no stable electricity or potable water. The journey would depend on the mood of the weather, and some mornings she would face waves rising above the boat. She accepted.<\/p>\n

Every Monday, Do\u00f1a Yenoris leaves before dawn for Playa Torres School, where she serves as principal. Private transportation costs around 25,000 colones per trip, an expense each teacher must cover. She must bring her own food and drinking water. She lives in the house designated for teachers and returns Friday afternoon to attend institutional commitments.<\/p>\n

The island faces extreme poverty, limited sources of employment, and historically low levels of schooling. At the school, there are no formal recreational spaces; they improvise courts and manage teaching materials as best they can. For years, the communities of Isla Caballo endured the heat without water or electricity. The day solar panels were installed\u2014thanks to a project implemented by students from the Technological Institute of Costa Rica\u2014they were finally able to turn on a fan and cried with relief.<\/p>\n

For Do\u00f1a Yenoris, the greatest challenge was not logistical\u2014it was communal.<\/p>\n

On an island where the sea is both economic livelihood and cultural axis, the school needed to become more than classrooms. With 36 students and 15 older adults participating in educational programs, she assumed that her role was also one of community leadership. She integrated environmental education as a cross-cutting theme: beach clean-ups, plastic waste management, respect for fishing closures, and awareness of responsible fishing.<\/p>\n

Over time, something changed in her. She learned to look at the sea with respect, not only fear.<\/p>\n

During her Monday journeys, she began taking photographs of the sunrise. She started observing dolphins and admiring the turtles she spotted along the way. She bathed in the sea again after fifteen years of avoiding it. She learned to invoke the sea, asking it to behave before each crossing.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThe island harmonized me.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Her story is not that of a woman who was born loving the ocean. It is the story of a woman who decided not to let fear define her contribution\u2014and who found, in that decision, a broader purpose: accompanying a community that remains invisible to many authorities and reminding us that water, nature, and education are rights that must be defended every day.<\/p>\n<\/div>

<\/span><\/div>

Yessenia Madrigal Quesada<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Park Ranger, Cocos Island National Park<\/h4>\n

As a child, without ever having seen the sea, her finger would stop at one point on the globe: Cocos Island. She did not know why. She simply felt drawn to it. At Juan Santamar\u00eda Night School, a teacher assigned her a random page from a book. When she opened it, the name Jacques Cousteau appeared, along with the phrase describing the island as \u201cthe most beautiful in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

That coincidence stayed with her.<\/p>\n

She learned to swim at four years old. As a child she watched fish through a glass bottle and imagined herself living in the sea.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cSaltwater runs through me instead of blood,\u201d she says with conviction.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Years later, after 17 years of environmental volunteering and work in biological corridors, she joined the National System of Conservation Areas (SINAC) on November 1, 2018. Her initial role was administrative: filing, digitizing documents, organizing reports. Among the files assigned to her was the one for Cocos Island National Park.<\/p>\n

Shortly after\u2014ten days, exactly\u2014she was informed that she would travel to this small green point in the middle of the Pacific.<\/p>\n

Cocos Island was not unfamiliar to her. She remembered her previous experience as a volunteer in the park\u2019s kitchen, a common path for many women seeking to join.<\/p>\n

On the island, in Chatham Bay, she stood before the stone dedicated to Cousteau\u2026 and cried. It was not just emotion; it was the feeling that a childhood intuition had finally found its place.<\/p>\n

Her work as a park ranger is administrative: fuel control, recording boat entries and departures, daily reports. Meticulous work that sustains the park\u2019s operations. Over time, the team became family.<\/p>\n

When she arrived, she recalls that there were only two women. Roles were clearly defined: women cleaned and cooked; men patrolled and navigated. That distribution began to change. Today there are more young women working at sea and in the mountains; men collaborate in kitchen and logistics tasks. During emergencies, she remembers the solidarity of women carrying food and medicine to higher areas, and her own role maintaining communication with the mainland and documenting every event.<\/p>\n

She feels fulfilled on a personal, family, and professional level. She has overcome fears and confirmed that women can perform any task in protected areas when given space and trust.<\/p>\n

Her message is simple and powerful: do not limit yourselves. Fear is a disguise. Dream big and work with humility.<\/p>\n

One expanded the marine map through science and public policy.
\nAnother transformed an island school and turned fear into dialogue and opportunity.
\nThe third safeguards an oceanic island and helps redefine roles within a national park.<\/p>\n

Three different stories, one shared ocean.<\/p>\n

An ocean that demands studies and impact indicators for communities.
\nAn ocean crossed by small boat every Monday at dawn to educate children and youth.
\nAn ocean patrolled and protected from an office in the middle of the Pacific.<\/p>\n

In each story there is something in common: the decision not to be limited by others\u2019 expectations. To take on positions no one wanted. To sustain long and sometimes invisible processes. To work for the ocean with heart\u2014without giving up rigor.<\/p>\n

Costa Rica\u2019s ocean, from its coastal communities to the remote Cocos Island, is woven by women who study, teach, manage, lead, and navigate.<\/p>\n

It is not a uniform blue. It is a tapestry of stories that, when intertwined, reveal something deeper: marine conservation is also a story of women who chose to stay, move forward, and build the future at sea.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":23298,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1769],"tags":[2181],"class_list":["post-23386","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news-press-releases","tag-international-womens-day-en"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23386","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23386"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23386\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23389,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23386\/revisions\/23389"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/23298"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23386"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23386"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cocosisland.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23386"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}