"In Sri Lanka illegal fishing is punished by heavy fines and can incur imprisonment. So I believe that with enough incentives, people will gradually go back to fishing legally."

Peiris said that in the village we visited about 70 percent of people have gone completely legal with their fishing methods over the past few years.

"The other 30 percent are involved in both legal and illegal fishing - depending on the day, if you like."

In 2009 the country's 27-year civil war ended decisively when the military defeated the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam.

"The country is recovering and tourists are back," Peiris said. "I met a man who once fished illegally but has now become a tour guide, showing coral reefs to foreign visitors."

As traumatizing as it was, the war did have an unexpected positive effect on natural life: waters along Sri Lanka's northern, northwestern and eastern coast went undisturbed by fishermen and tourists for nearly 30 years, since those were the areas that bordered the war zone.

"Now people are gradually coming back, and it's important for us to step in from the environmental protection perspective before it's too late," Peiris said.

We walked to the shore. Two colorful boats waited while one man was sitting on the ground repairing a net - a legal one of course. Jumping into one boat, I sailed with two fishermen to about 50 meters offshore, where some floating cages were kept for cultivating sea bass. About 300 to 500 fish were kept in one big iron cage. Feeding is usually done in the morning, and harvesting ]after 12 months of feeding. The main reason they have been doing this is that there are not enough fish to catch from the surrounding sea.

Along the village road stand coconut trees: the saline soil of coastal Sri Lanka is ideal for the growing of the tree, which requires very little care yet is able to give fruits till the end of its life. The locals weave fibers extracted from the tree leaves into everything: baskets, hats, floor mats, window curtains and even ropes used by fishermen to tie boats.

And after drinking the milk, they retain the shell of the fruit for firewood, or use it as a mini-cover to protect seedlings during germination.

By the time we left the village, the sun was setting, pouring a bucket of golden dye into the sea. Not far away, plumes of smoke rose from behind low bushes. The locals were burning garbage, I was told.

Yet there seemed to be more garbage in the countryside of Sri Lanka than people can or would actually bother to deal with - something that reminded me of China, whose rural parts are also plagued by extensive litter.

But this is an island country in the subtropical region, so any sight of a discarded bottle or plastic bag is rendered even more jarring by the otherwise pristine beach or the branches of flowers that sprout from virtually everywhere.

My last sight of the village was a flock of crows; they were staying for the fish, as they have probably done for thousands of years.