The investment fund MCH, owner of Aquanaria, continues to avoid taking responsibility. The fishing company's spokesperson in the Canary Islands for addressing the island's biggest environmental crisis in recent years is a manager. The owners continue to rely on the silence of the Las Palmas newspapers, influenced by advertising in food reviews that feature sea bass produced in Telde and southern Gran Canaria. Neither MCH's CEO, Jaime Hernández Soto, nor Celia Andreu, the fund's environmental officer, have addressed the crisis in Gran Canaria.
While Gran Canaria already has 17 beaches closed, the tide of indignation is rising in Telde. A thousand Canarian voices have cried out in Melenara against the Aquanaria spill, an environmental crisis that exposes the chronic lack of sovereignty and the "lack of coordination" of administrations that fail to protect their own archipelago. The health of the land and its people, trampled by foreign inaction.
The Las Palmas Environmental Prosecutor's Office opened an investigation on October 17th, but for many, the response is too little, too late. The patience of the Canary Islanders has its limits, and when the land, the sea, and their health are violated, the outcry of the people becomes the only real barrier against inaction. The Telde crisis is not just an environmental problem; it is a struggle for sovereignty and respect for the Canary Islands' territory, a boundary where dignity is non-negotiable.
When the air becomes unbreathable and the once sacred sea turns into a putrid broth, that's when a people rises up. And so it was this Sunday in Telde. Some 1.000 Canarian souls, driven by the stench and indignation, marched from the Melenara dock to Salinetas to shout an uncomfortable truth: the "negligence" and "lack of respect" of the Peninsula (read: "Goths") and its companies have left Gran Canaria with 17 beaches closed, and Telde now at the epicenter of a public health and island dignity crisis.
The anger is not unfounded. The finger of blame from neighborhood and environmental groups points directly at the aquaculture cages of the company Aquanaria, located on the coast of Tufia and Salinetas. They maintain that the massive spill of decomposing organic matter caused by the death of thousands of sea bass originates from there. "This stinks, the people are protesting," "Our health first, out with the fish farms," were the chants of a demonstration that exuded weariness and a profound sense of abandonment.
A representative of the organizers didn't mince words: "There are tons of sea bass still floating in the sea" and "the company had no contingency plan in place for a mass die-off." This negligence, which can even be seen from planes flying over the area, isn't just the company's fault; it's a symptom of dysfunctional governance where the Canary Islands' Territorial Emergency Plan for Civil Protection seems to have dissolved into chaos. "We've been suffering from the lack of coordination between the administrations for a month and a half," the spokesperson added, a criticism that resonates strongly in an archipelago that has always fought for its self-governance.
The health of the canaries is at stake. Protesters have reported cases of ear infections, conjunctivitis, diarrhea, and dermatitis, direct consequences of "decomposing organic matter that poses a threat to human health." Their demands are clear and urgent: the "immediate" installation of pollution barriers, skimmers, and absorbent materials around the cages.
