The Old Men and the Sea
Text and photographs by Li Qizheng
As night falls, the old men row their boat out to fish. They are gratitude for everything they have and most enjoy the ancient and humble lifestyle.
Nanyu Island is located in Dongshan County of Zhangzhou City, Fujian Province, in southern China. Its fine-sand beaches stretch some four miles; and its waters are striped thanks to varying depths. Walking the shore during the day, visitors often gasp at a stunning horizon in the distance. When night falls, the lights are few; and the only thing breaking the silence is the crash of waves.
The island is home to a group of veteran fishermen between the ages of 45 and 82. Their common wisdom is that the best season for fishing is February to October. “Lashan” (“Pulling the Mountain”) is an ancient method of fishing, which has been handed down for generations in coastal Fujian. People pull large nets using their own strength, without the help of mechanical tools. All boats are rowed by hand.
“Today, there is less space on the beach to maneuver the fishing nets,” sigh the old men. “Most places have been developed for tourism or aquatic farming.”
Such a method of fishing depends heavily on the tide and time of day, with the prime usually coming between twilight and 11:00 p.m. A boat transports a 500-meter-long rope and nets to the sea. The team is divided into two groups, each with seven or eight members. Both groups pull one net cord and move parallel to each other. Each member wraps his waist with a rope made of cloth or nylon topped with a square bamboo chip to hold the net cord.
They stand three to five steps apart. Scattering like branches, they take turns leading the pulling from back to the front. The net gets heavier after being cast into the sea, and fishermen struggle against the tide with a load of fish, a factor making it harder and harder for the seniors to fish.
Passion
At 68, Chen Huaiming leads the fishing team. He certainly earned the title of “boss” when he bought boats and fishing nets for less than 10,000 yuan more than 20 years ago. Chen assigns work and delegates, and has been praised for his fair leadership.
Chen’s operation consists of 20 members: Two vendors, one logistics worker, five rowers, and the rest net operators.
Everyone’s income depends on what sells. Most of the time, each member receives several or dozens of yuan daily. Lucky days can bring as much as 100 yuan.
“It's not a lot, so why keep doing it?” is a frequently-asked question. “We’re old buddies and we’re used to it,” Chen explains. “It’s not the only way we can put food on the table. As for money, we just spend less when we don't make much. The good thing is that we don't have to pay for overhead like an engine or gasoline. It just takes our effort and sweat.”
The oldest member, Huang Chaihan is 82 and has been pulling since he was 15. “When I was young, a lot more people were fishing this way,” recalls Huang. “And there were more fish in the sea. On lucky days, we could bring in as many as 10 tons.
It's different today. Fewer people fish this way and there are fewer fish here.”
At 75, Zhang Xiangxia still rows after serving as a boatman in his younger years. He navigates the boat as well. “Five years ago, you would see over 30 boats around here,” he recounts. “But the only boat we see today is ours.”
Lan Donghai, 45, is the youngest in the team. He joined in 2014 when he was 43. He sells meat during the day and fishes parttime. “I don’t do it for money,” he grins. “I like to work with these guys because they’re simple and funny.” Lan formerly worked in the tourist haven of Xiamen.
When the boat is ready, the crew works together to load the 100-meter-long nets and a 500-meterlong rope on board.
At 11:00 p.m., the last net of fish is pulled up. The catch will be wrapped with ice cubes and sent to the market in an electric car.
When evening approaches, the old men push their wooden boat into the sea to fish.
Persistence
Every afternoon after 4:00 p.m., the team gathers in the shed along the beach to chat, sip tea, smoke, and play poker. Some pick up trash like rotting wood, foam and plastic scattered here and there. "I just can’t stand seeing it sitting on the beach,” says one. Some trash can be reused or sold for a little pocket change, and that's how they found tables and chairs for the shed.
As night fell, they started sorting tools and preparing to fish. An hour later, they had their first catch. Spectators gathered on the banks upon seeing the net popping out of the water. But Chen was ready to send the net back within five minutes. The fish were so few and small that they didn't even cover the bottom of the basket. Another hour later came the second attempt. Everybody was thrilled to see a huge fish, which was purchased on the spot by a spectator for 150 yuan. The rest of the catch filled half a bas-ket. Soon after the third round, Boss Chen wrapped the fish with ice cubes and whisked it away to the market in his electric car. Two of his people were waiting there.
The last attempt was made at about 11:00 p.m. “We didn't get too much today except for the big one,” sighed Chen. “The small fish can only serve as feed.” Those who worked from beginning to end didn't show any trace of disappointment. They packed up their tools, folded their earnings – several dozen yuan – and pocketed them. Like how they arrived in the afternoon, they returned home smiling.
They don't actually make a living by engaging in this activity. They are drawn to the lifestyle that has been carried on for so many years.
The shed keeper turned off the light, leaving the waves alone to continue splashing against the rocks. At 4:00 p.m. tomorrow it will all happen again, like it always has.
After 4:00 p.m. on fishing days, people gather in a shed on the beach.