A one-minute-seventeen-second-long video of the Norwegian saithe being processed is being widely shared on social media platforms in Jamaica. Those sharing the video are not so much intrigued by the method of preparing the fish for consumption as they are with the fact that the footage contradicts a long-held local myth about the head of what we refer to as salt fish.

The video was produced last month during a visit to Norway, courtesy of the Norwegian Seafood Council. Alongside fellow journalists from the Dominican Republic and Mexico, I set out to trace the path of the saithe or, as we Jamaicans affectionately call it, salt fish, from the pristine waters of the Scandinavian country to our tables back home.

I embarked on the cold journey with one goal set high above the others, to finally share images of the head of the salted saithe (commonly mistaken for codfish) that Jamaicans consume.

Jamaica imports between 5,000 and 6,000 tonnes of saithe each year, making the country the highest consumer of the fish in the English-speaking Caribbean. So it was no surprise when the video shared to my Tik Tok account garnered more than 230,000 views on that platform and spread like wildfire on social media as Jamaicans have been left astonished that the old tale of the sea creature’s face being a frightening monstrosity is not true.

The myth has been fuelled by the fact that the product in the local market never includes the head of the fish. But, in fact, the true reason that Norwegian suppliers do not include the saithe head in the exported product is due to its bony nature which, if included, would make the shipments economically and environmentally unsustainable.

“For the head of the codfish, we dry that. We don’t dry the head of the saithe because it is much smaller, so there is less food on it. So there’s a difference in size,” said Ørjan Kjærvik Olsen, project manager of emerging markets at the Norwegian Seafood Council.

Our expedition was not just about watching the process of salting the freshly harvested fish, nor was it about just tasting the freshest seafood Norway had to offer. It was also a deep dive into the heart of Norway’s sustainable fishing practices and the country’s commitment to producing safe, high-quality fish. From meeting respected fishermen to learning about the meticulous regulations that govern Norway’s fishing industry, every moment of the trip was eye-opening.

I was particularly struck by the reverence with which Norwegian fishermen are held in their communities — a stark contrast to the limited respect given to fishermen in Jamaica. The Norwegians’ dedication to sustainable harvesting practices left a lasting impression, reinforcing the importance of preserving our marine ecosystems for future generations.

In addition to gaining insights into the fishing industry, we explored innovative ways to prepare saithe for consumption, expanding my culinary repertoire and deepening my appreciation for this staple ingredient in Jamaican cuisine. My utmost favourites include Bacalhau à Brás, which is salted cod with eggs, and Norwegian salt cod stew, similar to how Jamaicans prepare mackerel in tomato paste.

Our journey took us from Tromsø, the gateway to the Arctic, to Hammerfest, the northernmost region of Norway. Along the way, we were treated to breathtaking views of rugged coastlines and snow-capped mountains, a stark reminder of Norway’s natural beauty and the harsh conditions its fishermen endure to bring seafood to our plates.

On my return home, I carried with me not only memories of an unforgettable adventure but also a deeper appreciation for the journey of our beloved salt fish. Through initiatives like this, the Norwegian Seafood Council seeks to bridge the gap between consumers and the source of their food, reminding us all of the importance of understanding where our food comes from and the care that goes into its production.

This trip was made possible through fees levied on all exports of Norwegian seafood, underscoring the industry’s commitment to responsible practices.