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tonnarotti back at the processing plant. These marks offered an insight into the multiple ways

of knowing that were practiced on the bodies of tuna and in the bloody room that day.

We had arrived at the plant an hour or so ahead of the tugboat, which moved through

the water slowly, loaded with the tuna and ice covered in blood. Once the tugboat arrived,

tonnarroti unloaded these beasts and transported them to the processing plant a hundred

metres away. As the tuna hit the floor the tonnarotti began cutting and cleaving them open to

reach the innards. It was as if they momentarily forgot the new procedures – the weighing and

the recording – and the new actors – the scientific observers, coast guards and university staff.

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Before too long the administrative assistant Paola reminded them, shouting ‘rigazzi, rigazzi’

(guys, guys). Dressed in a white coat and gumboots, she held a clipboard and looked to be in

charge of operations. She reminded the tonnarotti that first the tuna must be weighed. So,

tonnarotti carried the tuna one by one into the next room to weigh. Several people (Paola,

coast guard, university staff) stood around with clipboards and recorded the weight of each

tuna before the tonnarotti continued their work. From the loading dock floor tonnarotti

extracted the innards and placed them on a sorting and packing table. Later the tonnarotti

would preserve the tuna organs and trade them locally. Some of the organs were removed

through the opening afforded by the gills. A small incision was made to remove the

reproductive organs. But it was not only tonnarotti taking bits from the tuna – the national

observer and several staff from the University of Caglieri removed tissues for samples. The

university was collecting data for ICCAT to assess details such as age and reproductive

maturity. The national observer measured the tuna and recorded weight to ensure quota

compliance.

Along with the owners, Shannon, Luigi and a few locals who had gathered, I stood

around watching and drinking a glass of celebratory prosecco. A little tipsy from the

prosecco and the boat and the blood and the melange of people and activities, I watched as

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