As dawn breaks, Vitalis slowly glides into undulating waves below an azure sky. With a sparse crew of six, she bobs towards the fishing ground some 10 nautical miles off the shore. The boat returns after five hours, its hold nearly empty. A pall of gloom settles as the fishers offload the catch and divide the meagre earnings among themselves. “This is our fourth futile trip in a row. This is supposed to be the peak season for us (traditional fishers) and we are staring at a famine,” says Thomas, a fisher from Tangassery, Kollam.
With the territorial waters running out of marine stocks, the boats often venture into deep sea investing a lot of fuel, time and effort. But the shoals stay elusive and the once-abundant fields are reporting lower and lower yields.
“I have been venturing into the sea for over five decades and I don’t think we can survive this ordeal. Many species, including croaker and sardine, are fast vanishing from the sea. The traditional sector is heavily dependent on oil sardine and mackerel. For several days now, boats are bringing back only pink perch and anchovy,” says 68-year-old Ambrose, a fisher from Pallithottam, Kollam. Oil sardine and mackerel are pelagic fish (fish that live in the upper water column of the sea) and were once available round the year, according to fishermen. Pink perch, on the other hand, are demersal fish, or fish which are found just above the ocean floor.
Every year, Kerala imposes a trawling ban during the monsoon season to ensure the prosperity of the marine stock. Only traditional crafts are allowed to operate during the period of the ban, which lasts for 52 days from June 9 to July 31. All trawling operations till the midnight of July 31 are prohibited. But more than a month into the ban, the traditional fishers are yet to see any monsoon bounty. Though the sea is free of trawlers and there is no competition from the mechanised sector, their holds are never full.
“Many boats have stopped venturing into the sea as the catch is hardly enough to meet operational costs. We require around ₹50,000 for a brief sortie and very often the catch fetches us less than ₹10,000. Two shares of our total earnings go to the boat owner and the rest is hardly adequate to feed our families. We are all neck deep in debt,” says Wilson from Neendakara.
Perhaps this was one reason that forced Esthev and Anto, two fishers from Saktikulangara, to take a risky trip despite the squally weather. As their boat, Kanikkamata, was idling for 12 days, they ventured into the sea on the morning of July 11 hoping for a brief respite from penury. Hardly one nautical mile into the rough sea, Kanikkamata capsized. While the other two crew members were rescued, Esthev’s body washed ashore the same day and the search for Anto is still on.
Traditional fishers at sea
A few years ago, ‘ karamadi’ or ‘ kamba vala’ (shore seine fishing) wasn’t a rare sight along the Kerala coast. With the net cast in a semi-circular shape near the shoreline and hauled together by two groups of fishers, the fishing practice targeted pelagic shoals close to the coast. “Even though the net was cast only 2-3 km from the coast, the catch was good. Today, the practice has become extinct in most parts due to the absence of fish in the shallow waters of the coastal sea. We had hundreds of kamba valas in Kerala earlier, but now you will find only 10 or 15,” says Esho from Poonthura, Thiruvananthapuram.
Seventy-two-year-old Vasu is familiar with the sea and its intricate system of currents. An old-school fisher, he knows that the surface swimmers move in shoals and turn the brine into shades of red and black. “A whitish tint means pomfrets. The presence of seabirds and air bubbles also helps you in identifying meenpadams(fishing fields). A sudden change in currents or in the direction of the wind indicates natural hazards,” says the fisher from Alappad. But of late sun, seasons and constellations have failed him in braving the surf. “We can no longer plan trips based on the lunar calendar as cyclones and storms emerge out of nowhere. Though we see a lot of juveniles, the catch is dipping every day. The sea is becoming unreadable. It’s a very scary prospect….