Women quit Korea's grind for diving tradition

Women in Geoje, South Gyeongsang Province, are joining the centuries-old haenyeo diving tradition as older work culture and changing lives draw some back to the sea. Jin So-hee, who left long hours and low pay in city jobs, became a haenyeo at 25 and later learned freediving and scuba techniques to cope with the physical strain. The tradition remains tied to female independence, but the number of haenyeo is falling and warmer seas are making the work more precarious.

Jin So-hee moved to Geoje at age 25 after working as a nursing assistant and holding qualifications in skincare and nail art.

She lost 7 kilograms in her first year as a haenyeo and said she sometimes barely had the strength to lift a spoon.

The UNESCO-listed haenyeo tradition is centered on Jeju, where the number of haenyeo fell to 2,371 last year from 3,437 in 2021.

Woo Jung-min said the pair used YouTube to document young haenyeo and create a record for future generations.

Choi Young-hee now runs an organization that teaches haenyeo culture and trains aspiring divers.

Published Sep 10, 2026 12:30 pm KST

Korean haenyeo Jin So-hee hanging up her rubber wetsuit to dry after diving in the coastal town of Geoje, South Gyeongsang Province, Aug. 12. AFP-Yonhap

GEOJE, South Gyeongsang Province — Jin So-hee had to suffer to join the centuries-old tradition of Korean women diving to harvest seafood. But she is now part of a new generation to earn a place in the waves.

The nation's rapid economic transformation drew workers away from being haenyeo, the so-called "sea women" who dive without oxygen tanks to catch what they can.

But Korea's all-consuming work culture is now pushing some back towards a meaningful — and punishing — way to make a living.

Jin, 33, grew up in Busan, the country's second-largest city, earning qualifications in skincare and nail art before working as a nursing assistant to help make ends meet.

Worn down by long hours, one-day weekends and limited pay, she decided to head for the quiet coastal town of Geoje at age 25.

There, she came across haenyeo in their 70s, earning a living in nature and diving well past retirement age, and decided to join them.

But Jin lost 7 kilograms (15 pounds) in her first year as a haenyeo and said she was sometimes so exhausted she "barely had the strength to lift a spoon".

The intense work requires haenyeo to dive, protected only by a wetsuit and goggles applied with mugwort and saliva to prevent fogging up, as tradition dictates.

Jin also suffered severe ear pain from the water pressure, followed by splitting headaches after dives — ailments that have plagued generations of haenyeo.

"The pain was so bad it brought tears to my eyes ... I couldn't hear a thing," she said.

Determined to continue, Jin learned modern freediving, the sport of diving underwater without using breathing equipment, and scuba diving, including techniques to equalise the pressure in her ears.

For centuries, haenyeo have held a distinctive place in Korean history, with generations of women becoming family breadwinners.

Their culture, recognised by the UN cultural body UNESCO, has come to symbolise female independence and resilience in a country long shaped by deeply patriarchal traditions.

Participants swim using the "tewak," a buoy used by haenyeo floating, during a haenyeo training session in the coastal town of Geoje, South Gyeongsang Province, Aug. 12. AFP-Yonhap

The UNESCO listing specifically notes the island of Jeju as the heart of the tradition, where the number of haenyeo fell to 2,371 last year from 3,437 in 2021.

But their culture and tradition exist elsewhere on Korea's coast — including Geoje.

Another challenge for Jin and her fellow new-generation diver, Woo Jung-min, has been breaking into Geoje's tight-knit community of older haenyeo.

Fiercely private, the divers were initially wary of Jin and Woo filming their lives for YouTube, which the pair have used to promote and record the experiences of people like them.

But the pair persisted.

"We wanted to document the fact that there were young haenyeo like us, so that someday, this could become a kind of record and perhaps even an asset for future generations," Woo, 40, said.

Choi Young-hee, 60, took an equally unlikely path to the sea, becoming a haenyeo in her late 40s after nearly two decades selling clothes and accessories in Seoul department stores.

Left weary by seven-day workweeks and demanding customers, she was visiting Geoje when she spotted figures in the sea repeatedly diving and surfacing.

At first, Choi thought they were dolphins. They were haenyeo.

The sight captivated her and made her question her life.

"Why was I ... competing so fiercely in the city?" Choi recalled thinking.

Today, Choi runs an organisation teaching haenyeo culture and training aspiring divers.

Yet even as women like Jin, Woo and Choi help keep the tradition alive, the world beneath them is changing.

Haenyeo numbers continue to fall, while warming seas disrupt marine ecosystems, thinning catches and making their dangerous profession more precarious.

An old haenyeo saying captures the danger: "You earn your living in the realm of the dead and spend it in the world of the living."

Even a pinhole in a wetsuit can be critical in the bitter winter sea, Woo said.

"The sea is so dangerous, and the physical and mental toll so immense, that we practically call it the underworld," she told AFP.

But Woo and Jin also remember why the sea is worth the hardship — a world of startling beauty they say is fading with climate change.

Jin recalls red sea squirts — a sack-like marine invertebrate — turning the ocean floor into "a field of roses" each spring.

"You could look underwater and think, 'Spring is here'," she said, noting that display has now disappeared.

在庆尚南道巨济市，随着传统工作文化和生活方式的改变，一些女性重返大海，她们也加入了有着数百年历史的海女潜水传统。金素熙（音译）曾是一名城市工作者，工作时间长，收入低，25岁时她放弃了这份工作，成为一名海女。为了应对体力上的挑战，她后来学习了自由潜水和水肺潜水技巧。海女这一传统仍然与女性的独立性紧密相连，但海女的数量正在减少，海水变暖也使这份工作变得更加不稳定。

金素熙25岁时搬到巨济岛，她曾做过护理助理，并拥有护肤和美甲方面的资格证书。

她当海女的第一年瘦了7公斤，她说自己有时甚至连拿起勺子的力气都没有。

被联合国教科文组织列入世界遗产名录的海女传统以济州岛为中心，去年济州岛的海女人数从 2021 年的 3437 人下降到 2371 人。

禹正民表示，两人利用 YouTube 记录年轻的海女，为后代留下记录。

崔英熙现在经营着一个教授海女文化并培训有志成为海女的潜水员的组织。

发布于2026年9月10日下午12:30（韩国标准时间）

8月12日，韩国海女金素熙在庆尚南道巨济市潜水后，将橡胶潜水服挂起来晾干。（法新社/韩联社）

庆尚南道巨济市——为了加入韩国女性潜水捕捞海鲜这一延续数百年的传统，金素熙（音译）付出了艰辛的努力。如今，她已成为新一代潜水捕捞者中的一员，在波涛中赢得一席之地。

国家经济的快速转型使劳动者不再从事海女这一职业，海女是指那些不带氧气瓶潜水捕鱼的“海上女性”。

但韩国如今令人窒息的工作文化正将一些人推向一种更有意义——但也更残酷——的谋生方式。

33岁的金在韩国第二大城市釜山长大，在获得护肤和美甲资格后，她做过护理助理以补贴家用。

由于长时间工作、只有一天周末和有限的薪水，她感到疲惫不堪，于是在 25 岁时决定前往宁静的海滨小镇巨济。

在那里，她遇到了一些七十多岁的海女，她们在大自然中谋生，远远超过了退休年龄，仍然潜水，于是决定加入她们。

但金在成为海女的第一年就瘦了7公斤（15磅），她说自己有时累得“几乎连勺子都拿不动”。

按照传统，海女们从事艰苦的工作，她们只能穿着潜水服，戴着涂有艾草和唾液以防止起雾的护目镜进行潜水。

金还因水压而遭受严重的耳痛，潜水后又会头痛欲裂——这些疾病一直困扰着一代又一代的海女。

“疼痛难忍，疼得我眼泪都出来了……我什么也听不见，”她说。

金决心继续学习，她学习了现代自由潜水（即不使用呼吸设备进行水下潜水的运动）和水肺潜水，包括平衡耳压的技巧。

几个世纪以来，海女在韩国历史上占据着独特的地位，一代又一代的女性成为家庭的顶梁柱。

她们的文化得到了联合国教科文组织的认可，在这个长期受父权制传统影响的国家里，她们的文化象征着女性的独立和韧性。

8月12日，在庆尚南道巨济市沿海地区，海女们正在进行海女训练，她们使用一种名为“tewak”的浮标进行游泳训练。（法新社-韩联社）

联合国教科文组织的名录特别指出济州岛是海女传统的中心，该岛的海女人数从 2021 年的 3437 人下降到去年的 2371 人。

但他们的文化和传统在韩国沿海其他地区也存在，包括巨济岛。

金和她的新一代海女同伴禹正敏面临的另一个挑战是，如何融入巨济岛老一辈海女紧密的社群。

潜水员们非常注重隐私，起初他们对 Jin 和 Woo 在 YouTube 上拍摄他们的生活感到担忧，而这对搭档一直利用 YouTube 来宣传和记录像他们一样的人的经历。

但两人坚持不懈。

“我们想记录下像我们这样的年轻海女的存在，这样将来有一天，这可以成为一种记录，甚至可能成为后代的宝贵财富，”40岁的Woo说道。

60岁的崔英熙（音译）也走了一条同样不可思议的出海之路。她在首尔百货公司卖了近20年的衣服和配饰后，在40多岁时成为了一名海女。

由于每周七天的工作时间和苛刻的客户，她感到疲惫不堪。在游览巨济岛时，她发现海里有人影反复潜入和浮出水面。

起初，崔以为她们是海豚。其实她们是海女。

眼前的景象深深吸引了她，让她开始质疑自己的人生。

“我当时为什么……要在城市里如此激烈地竞争呢？”崔回忆起当时的想法。

如今，崔女士经营着一家教授海女文化和培训有志成为潜水员的人士的机构。

然而，即使像金、禹和崔这样的女性帮助保持了这一传统，她们所处的世界也在发生变化。

海女数量持续下降，而海洋变暖破坏了海洋生态系统，导致渔获量减少，使她们危险的职业更加岌岌可危。

一句古老的海女谚语道出了其中的危险：“你在冥界谋生，却在人间挥霍。”

伍说，即使是潜水服上的一个针孔，在严寒的冬季海水中也可能造成严重后果。

“大海非常危险，对身心造成的伤害非常巨大，我们几乎把它称为地狱，”她告诉法新社。

但Woo和Jin也记得为什么大海值得他们付出艰辛——他们说，随着气候变化，大海这个拥有惊人美景的世界正在消失。

金回忆说，每年春天，红海鞘（一种囊状海洋无脊椎动物）都会把海底变成“一片玫瑰花田”。

“你可以看到水下的景色，然后想，‘春天来了’，”她说，并指出这种景象现在已经消失了。