With one last heave, Mayumi Okada launches a heavy, sopping wet rope into the Pacific Ocean. As a fresh afternoon wind forms frothy crests on the waves, her husband, Kuniaki, leaves his cabin, peers over the edge of their boat and confirms that the latest batch of oyster “spat” larvae is in position, ready to mature into the plump, highly prized bivalves associated with this region of north-east Japan.

Three years ago, the couple abandoned regular careers to build a new life in Tomari, a tiny coastal community 500km (310 miles) north of Tokyo. Kuniaki, 54, had always dreamed of earning a living going out to sea. Mayumi was supportive, but she also had maritime ambitions of her own.

“He had always wanted to be a fisherman, so we looked at a lot of places in the region, and Ofunato was the most welcoming,” Mayumi, 49, says. “I was also interested in fishing, especially farming oysters, scallops and other shellfish.”

Today, they are preparing to cultivate oysters off the coast of Iwate, one of three prefectures devastated by a deadly tsunami 13 years ago. In a quayside tent, women prepare empty scallop shells that will be used to bring the young oysters to maturity. But unlike her female peers, Mayumi is to be found out at sea as often as on shore.

Japan’s fishing industry is in desperate need of labour. Like other traditional sectors of the country’s economy it is ageing and shrinking in sync with the general population. The average age of a Japanese fisher is approaching 60; in some places it is over 70. In 1961, Japan employed 700,000 seagoing workers, but the number had more than halved by the early 1990s and halved again by 2017.

According to the most recent five-year census, conducted in 2018, the industry now employs just 87,000 people, with women making up just over 11,000, or about 13%.

“When I look around, there are very few women who go out on boats, but at least it’s not zero,” says Mayumi, who will become fully qualified next year when she completes her training at a fisheries academy. “There are so few people here that we need everyone to chip in.”

Kuniaki agrees. “We heard about companies that refused to sell boats when they heard women would be working on them, but attitudes are changing. But if women aren’t involved then the men will be unable to do it all by themselves … fishing is that kind of industry.”

A growing number of fisheries operators are turning to women to address the steady decline in the workforce. But they are up against a sector dominated by men at every level, and a cultural resistance towards women earning a living out at sea.

Some of that resistance is rooted in folklore, according to which the goddess of the sea becomes “jealous” when women board a fishing boat.

Farther north in the coastal district of Omoe, Koichi Sato, a fisher for more than three decades, is sceptical about revitalisation programmes that encourage more women to perform physically demanding, and potentially dangerous, work at sea.

“There is an old saying, ‘Women on land, men at sea,’” Sato says as he uses a crane to lift sacks of kombu seaweed out of a storage tank.

“The local fishing industry wouldn’t be able to survive without women, but you need physical strength to work on a boat, hauling in the catch and putting it in storage. And then there are the long hours, including working at night. And what about sea sickness?”

That question prompts a good-natured laugh from Natsumi Nakamura, a female fisher whom Sato, despite his misgivings, is now mentoring through the final stages of her training. She says she has stronger sea legs than her husband, Koshi, with whom she moved to Omoe just over a year ago to begin a new life in seaweed aquaculture.

“I find it frustrating that women’s role in fisheries begins only after the catch has been landed,” Nakamura, 28, says, referring to the large numbers of women employed in processing. “But this is a very traditional region of Japan. When I told my neighbours that I wanted to be a fisherwoman, a lot of them asked me if I was serious. It’s not really sexism … people just can’t imagine women working on fishing boats.

“But I’ve always had an interest in marine life, so it felt natural to want to go into fishing,” adds Nakamura, who studied at the National Fisheries University in Shimonoseki – the capital of Japan’s whaling industry – before spending almost two years at James Cook University, where she majored in tropical biology and conservation.

Her husband, a native of Omoe, concedes that his fishing family are “still not 100% OK” with Natsumi’s career choice. “They keep asking her if she is absolutely sure, but I know that she loves fishing, so I’m fine with it,” he says.

Despite government efforts, the proportion of women working in fisheries remains low, as other sectors, including farming and transport, also reach out to Japan’s underused pool of female talent.

Recruitment events have been held in Tokyo for women interested in working in fisheries, although a 2023 survey found only about 60 of the 300 firms hoping to take on new workers said they would employ women.

“There are jobs in fisheries that people used to think could only be done by men, but that isn’t the case any more,” says Kumi Soejima, a senior lecturer at the National Fisheries University.

“Mechanisation and other improvements – like the installation of toilets – have made it much easier for women. All it takes is a change of attitude and a little ingenuity.

“The entire fishing industry has a patriarchal culture in which older men are at the top of the hierarchy … that needs to change. If the fishing industry in Japan is going to survive it needs to attract more people, including women. The door should be open to them.”

Back in Omoe, Nakamura brandishes a freshly caught octopus the couple will sell at the local market. She admits that hauling up traps carrying a heavy catch can be a struggle. “A lot depends on how rough the sea is … sometimes my husband will do certain jobs on the boat, sometimes it’s me. You just have to adapt.

“I would definitely encourage other women to give fishing a try. Times have changed, and we’re living in an age where women can do anything they put their minds to.”