First, the fish-laden trucks from neighbouring Karnataka reached an hour behind schedule, and then three unfamiliar faces come along. This was enough to throw life out of gear at the wholesale fish market in Margao on Saturday. These are difficult times for wholesalers. They have had to bear losses after being unable to import fish from neighbouring states for 15 days, and now something looks amiss. What are these people doing here so early in the morning? You could smell nervousness. You could sense distrust. You could see that not everyone was comfortable going about their fishy’ business. This was strange, for everyone. Do you’ll want to meet the manager of this wholesale market, someone asked the trio, while simultaneously speaking to the manager’ on the cellphone. Yes, of course, the trio replied, and a few minutes later, Shaikh Zahid showed up and identified himself as a representative of the Wholesale Fish Market Association. Despite an eye infection, Zahid couldn’t avoid the intruders. Are you’ll government officials, he sought to know, only to be told that we were all journalists from The Times of India, out here to do a job. The look on Zahid’s face said it all. There was relief that business won’t be affected. There was disdain too that they had panicked unnecessarily, and some sense of regret that he now must answer media questions. Zahid, somehow, wriggled his way out and disappeared into the crowd. At the wholesale fish market in Margao, on the day the fortnight-long ban on import of fish ended, local fish continued to be in demand. Three outstation trucks were stationed at the market, yet most of the business was being conducted at the Goa corner where mackerels and prawns were much sought-after. The outsiders’ had saudalo’ (butter fish), lepo’ (sole), squids and pomfret, yet nobody was falling over each other to get the best deal. Saudalos’ were initially quoted at Rs 3,500 per box of 25kg, but half an hour later, the price was slashed by Rs 1,000. Lepo’ at Rs 4,500 for a 35kg box and velleo’ (silver belly) at Rs 5,000 didn’t have any takers either. This is unusual, but we are not surprised. People are apprehensive to buy fish from outside because of the chemical scare. But, we cannot take this fish back. We have to sell this, said Ismail Shaikh, who was confident that he would sell all the boxes, even if at a throwaway price, latest by 8am. Albertina Rodrigues, who sells fish at the Panaji market, didn’t risk buying fish from the outsiders. She checked the prices, which were tempting, but eventually picked up her fish for the day from the Goans. These people have spoilt the entire business. I can’t understand why anyone has to do that, Albertina said. It’s simple and easy to understand. After all, it’s about money. Big money. Each truck that enters Goa carries fish worth Rs 4 lakh to Rs 15 lakh. A truck laden with smaller fish like saudalo’ and lepo’ should be worth at least a few lakh of rupees, while those with a big catch like kingfish and pomfret will be worth Rs 15 lakh. No wonder they can sell to retailers at a much cheaper price. Poor Goans, who have small catches, are left to wonder why everyone keeps running to the other side. You buy that fish because it’s slightly cheaper. But at what cost, asked a Goan wholesale fishseller.