‘Mike Tyson’. But the genial giant that stood like a rock on a motorboat that took us off the beach area of one of Muscat’s fishing villages, recently, only resembled him.
Otherwise, his serene demeanour and the polite words he shared with us were like pearl drops, which he occasionally let loose along with the sea spray that hit us as we headed straight into the sea.
A spotless white seagull was leading us, and often, our motorboat threatened to overtake it and head on its own.
The three of us, inexperienced boat people, hung on for dear life as the motorboat scudded on the semi-rough sea surface.
‘Tyson ‘(nee Dharwish Mohammed Mughaini) and his sea accomplice, a young Omani boy, were taking us on a simple trip down the usual tourist sea lane, which covered Qantab, Bhandar Khiran and other coves, past the Shangri-La hotel and towards some fishing cages that were sunk some 30 metres deep to trap the fish in it.
But, we (the Black & White team) were not planning to discover the wonders of the ocean below, nor were we keen to dive down to fetch the cages, for tucked in many parts of the beach of the Qantab fishing village, from where we got on this boat, was a story that was worthier than the wonders below.
* ** ** *
Now, the history that is in the making on the beachside of the traditional Qantab fishing village, which features the ‘Jewel of Muscat’, a ninth century sewn-plank ship, is a tale that has been told by many.
But, the history that has been in play on the sands of the centuries old shore of this quaint fishing village, which hosts many Omani tribes including Al Wahibis, Al Qasmis, Al Rahbis, Al Mughainy’s, Al Hasanis, Al A’hsanis (Al’Ahsanis), Al Hadis, has hitherto been untold.
Time now to unveil this simple story of the fishermen whose stirring passion for fishing has been undimmed by the modernity that has swept Oman.
For Muscat residents, Qantab cannot be classified as an interior area (even Seeb, which is some 40-odd kms is not said to be in the interior). Yet, the sweep of modernity has hardly touched this area, not in terms of the physical structures, but in the minds and hearts of the fishermen living here, young or old.
The unusual factor of the men of this village is that whether they happen to be the village chieftain, the senior government official, or, the government employed Omani youth or the young kids playing on the beach – all, without exaggeration share an unusual love for the sea. Unusual, because it is beyond comprehension for those who have fallen to the temptations of modernity and have moved away from the traditions and culture of Oman.
The average Omani kid or youth may have a passion for Omani football, especially since the Omani football team are the reigning kings in the region after their Gulf Cup victory. But, nothing – nothing – can stir the firm love of the fisherfolk for the sea and all the creatures within it.
The Qantab fishermen are in love with the sea, with their boats, the uncountable fish that fill the sea before their homes and the sun, the sand and well, their khawas…
It is this tale of love that has to be told and to be recorded in posterity, but the Omani fishermen’s love for fishing has to be experienced to be believed. The truth is that nothing sways them away from the sea. Fast cars, swank homes, fat salaries, influential jobs, the unbelievable temptations of modernity simply strike this Gibraltar-like-resolve of these fishermen and fall back. Fishing is one of the foremost traditional livelihoods of these fishermen, and they have kept it that way even today. It is not ‘timepass’, nor, is it a luxurious pursuit like game fishing. For many in Qantab fishing village, a day without fishing was an empty one.
And the beauty is that the numbers of the fishermen in this little bay are growing. “Five years ago, we had around 40 to 50 fishermen, today, there are more than 100 and it is growing. Every man of this village, regardless of his other profession is a fisherman at heart,” Sheikh Said Zahar bin Saud Al’Ashani, the sheikh of Qantab fishing village tells Black & White, squatting himself comfortably on the sands.
The sheikh is on his boat at the crack of dawn and after fishing, and a little afternoon siesta, he heads back to the beach where he confers with other senior fishermen in his favourite corner on the beach.
Language is a barrier, but his face reveals a hundred fishing tales, which he might have regaled to the young and old fishermen there. In Arabic, he tried to describe to our Omani lensman the unmitigated passion for fishing that the whole of the menfolk of this village had. “Fishing is a passion; it is our first profession, our job, our lives – our everything!” Sheikh Said Al’Ashani tells us.
“Let them hold big job positions outside this village, but when they come back to the village, they are on the boat, along with the others, fishing, or when they are back on the beach, helping pull the boat back into the shore, helping with the net…fishing is in our heart and no one can take it away.
“Today’s younger generation goes to school, get employed, but neither modernity, nor development has wooed them away from the shore of Qantab.”
We ask him when he began fishing and he looks at the sea, then to couple of six or seven year olds playing on the beach. He points to them: “Around that age. Maybe younger. I don’t remember. It must have been some 50 to 60 years back.” We don’t ask his age, but let him continue.
He stares again at the sea as he reminisces of an age past: “We had strong wooden boats then and there were fishes galore; we used to catch them by hooks and homespun nets. We also used cages made of palm tree leaves for trapping the fishes.”
In the early days, fishing was down to traditional methods. There were no contraptions to help direct their boats in the sea. But, they had the stars shining in the night and the dark hues of the mountains in the backdrop, tools they used to navigate their boats to the sea and back. A traditional method that they adopt even today. One of the fishermen who took us by boat to the sea guided us to some sunken traps with the help of the mountains in the distance.
“We used to go at the crack of dawn and we would remain there in the sea, waiting for a big catch. Sometimes, it took us three to four days to return. But, times have definitely changed,” he said, looking at our recorders, the camera, our mobile phones.
Did they ever fear the sea? Sheikh Said looked at us quizzically as our photographer struggled to put forward the query again. Fear? What was that? “Why would we fear the sea,” he asked us. “We never had any fear in going to the deep sea areas. The sea is our haven, our protector.”
But, some elements of modernity have washed into this shore, and everyone has welcomed that. Today, they have imported nets from Japan, modern winches to drag the boats in etc. “Now we use iron cages instead of palm tree ones, which are thrown down for two to three days and then pulled up.
“We have modern motorboats, big freezers to store the fishes that are caught, navigation tools like GPS, safety gadgets, umbrellas etc.
Moreover, the gear used, the accessories and even the methods of fishing have improved over the years. This has also helped more youngsters getting in to the trade,” Sheikh Said said.
Fishing, without a doubt, is a family tradition too here. The village chieftain’s six children are into fishing. And that is the reigning trend here. “Fishing has fed us and our families for years now and I believe the trade will not die. We get good help from the authorities too. In many ways, we are blessed!”
On the first day, we were taken on a boat to get a feel of the sea by Saleh Mohammed Suleiman, who works in Salalah. He had come back to Qantab during his leave and the first thing he did upon landing there: fishing. “A day without fishing is an empty one,” this darkly handsome young man tells us. He doesn’t recall the day he went fishing for the first time. But, he knows that the moment he opened his eyes, he had been seeing the sea, the fish, the boats and the men going fishing.
“Fishing is not a time pass for us. It is our livelihood. Yes, times have changed, I am employed full time in another sector, but we still need to make that little extra to run our families.”
Sometimes, they make a little more than an extra, he says noting how some catches could haul in bushels of money (around RO300-350). “Other days, it can be just RO50 and under.
“But we are happy. Fishing is our trade and it is very fulfilling. It is a full time profession. The sea is everything for us. For tourists and visitors, the sea could be intriguing and fun, but for us it is our homes.”
What after fishing? Did they engage in other pursuits, football, or any other games? “Those who are in the beachside have no other pursuits. Fishing is our leisure pursuit, our hobby too. What is football? Fishing is my life!” Saleh Mohammed said. Fishing was also a binding factor as it kept him and youngsters like him close to their families. “Ours is a small fishing village and our families are all connected by this trade. My wife is happy that I don’t hit the town spots. She feels more reassured when I am at sea.”
One of the key examples of the employed youth at the village who still come back to fishing is that of
Dharwish Mohammed Mughaini. He is a coastguard employee. But, given a choice, he will get back to the village and engage in fishing. “Yes, fishing, anytime,” he says when asked what he would do if he was given a job choice. “I love to fish. My brother and I started at a very young age; but, I don’t remember the year.
“The sea has been my school of learning. The motor boats are expensive, but, it is very useful. Even though many youngsters are opting for fishing, the sea has plenty to offer us all. We don’t fear that there will be a dearth of fishes. The nature will provide for us all. We used to go with the elders at 7pm and return back early morning 4am with our catch. That is our routine. I think even if I had become a doctor, I would go fishing…”
By Adarsh Madhavan, Priya Arunkumar, Najib Al Balushi
copyright © Black and White
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