It was a beautiful Sunday morning with clear blue sky. We were in Malacca last week. On that cool Sunday morning I decided to take a drive out of the condominium complex at Tanjung Puteri and on the way back stop at the Fisherman shack along the beach. I parked my car and went to look around. There was not a single fisherman around. They must have gone back home to rest after a hard day at sea. The life of the fisherman is not easy. They had to wake up early to go out to the sea. If they leave for the sea in the evening they had to be at sea all nightlong and back to the land in the early hours of the morning.
In this case it is the Straits of Malacca where the border of Indonesia and Malaysia is not that clear. Stray away into the international water one might get into the Indonesia water and get caught for illegal fishing. Then there are those huge tankers and big cruisers that ply the sea all the times and if one is not careful especially in the middle of a dark night one could easily collides with those ships. At time there are the dangers of pirates on the high seas that one had also to be careful and not to get into a fight. There are so many risk that fisherman had to go through whenever they went fishing. But then that is their lives and perhaps the only way they could make a living.
I walk out at the beach which was calm at that early hours of the morning and look at all the small fisherman boats now lay idle on the beach. This is the west coast and the rising sun is on the other side of the nearby hills. The reflection of the morning sun could be seen glittering on the surface of the calm sea; like little diamond sparkling everywhere. There was not a single fisherman there but the nets and other equipments for the fishing lay there all organized for the next trip out to sea. I could feel the quietness as I browse along those boats and the fisherman's gear including the nets. Only the buzzing of the flies feasting on the dead fishes that were left to rot on the beach breaks that peaceful feeling of the place.
There was no wind and the seashore nearby was calm as well. I took time to look around and snap some picture. It was indeed a rare and unique assort of fisherman's things that could only be found at such a shack along this beach. Actually I was mesmerized with the serene of the scene at the shack and for a while forgot about the world around me. It was the sudden bashing of the shore by the wave that jolted me back to reality. I then remember as a small boy on the beach at Tanjung Lumpur in Kuantan where I would wait for the fisherman to come back bringing their catch. And I would get to buy fresh fish whenever we go camping on the beach. At time we just got the smaller fish for free. The smell of the salty sea is still the same and it does add color to the memory of the boy in me. Actually I do enjoy this moment in time at this fisherman shack.
Here today I did not see the fisherman. But still I could imagine their presence when they had arrived as they hauled their boats to the beach for safekeeping; taking the day catches to the market for sale and some for home to their family. All wet and sweating they would take their time to do whatever needed doing in the same fashion of ritual that had been going on for generations before them. Contented with their day taking they would move on perhaps smoking a cigarette, the only luxury that they could afford and head for home to be with their family and take a good rest.
Tomorrow it would be the same ritual again. That is the life they had chosen for now so that the next generation of their family would have a better day. The irony of all this is the fisherman never gets rich although it is their catch of quality fish that get to the table of the rich and famous. Well folks, that is life.
Have a nice day.
[Please click to enlarge]