Jenifer FERNANDES
joseph@herald-goa.com
ALDONA: “My name is Manuel John Paul Alemao, but everyone in Aldona calls me Manu,” he begins, his voice calm yet brimming with pride. Ever since leaving school in Standard IX, Manu’s life has revolved around fishing, a passion he nurtured since he was a small child. “I may not have studied beyond the ninth standard, but my love for fishing has never wavered. I decided early on that this would be my life’s work, and I have no regrets,” he quips.
Manu has been fishing at the sluice gates of Teen Manos—a site named after its three gates—for over 20 years. “Fishing became our traditional business,” he explains. Using nets that he repairs himself, Manu has mastered the art of catching chonak (barramundi), palu (sandrig), shevto (mullet), and other local fish. The timing of his work is dictated by the tides, often calling him to the water between 2 am and 4 am. “When the tide is low, we fish. During high tide, the sluice gate remains shut.”
Reflecting on the past, Manu recalls the days of abundant catches. “Earlier, we would get bumper hauls of fish. But now, the situation has changed. People don’t venture into the rivers like before – earlier, nearly everyone used to fish, and there used to be plenty of stocks in our waterbodies. Now, most people don’t have the time and prefer to purchase fish, and so, there is no maintenance of the banks. The absence of clay mixing from the poim (sluice gate area) has led to wild weeds taking over. Plastic pollution in our water bodies is another major issue, along with unchecked overgrowth of trees and plants that need to be cleared.”
Adding to the challenges, the water quality has deteriorated. “The water from the Mapusa River is saline and unclean, while the sea water from the Mandovi River is polluted. Earlier, our lakes would receive fresh sea water, but now only saline water flows in, affecting the fish population,” Manu laments.
Despite these hurdles, Manu takes immense pride in his work. “The fish from the poim are ganvti (local) and clean, with an unmatched taste. Our prawns, too, are of the finest quality. These days, we also collect khube (clams), which weren’t there earlier,” He sells his catch directly from his home, often drying prawns for later sale. “My mother used to sell fish in the market, but now I manage it from home. This traditional business has raised me and my family.
It’s honest work that allows me to earn a living without the need for an office job.”
Manu acknowledges that the younger generation has little interest in continuing this legacy. “After me, no one will take care of this business. Children today prefer phones, motorbikes, computers, and getting high, over hard work. They don’t want to put in the effort this job requires.”
He stresses, however, that fishing is a sustainable livelihood for those willing to commit to it. “My parents managed, and so have I. It takes hard work, but it’s fulfilling. Catching fish takes about four hours, and we rely on the tides. Every year, I bid for the fishing rights during the auction, and people are always happy with the fish I provide.
Manshechem nustem (fish from the sluice gate) is natural, chemical-free, and always tasty.”
Manu’s connection to his craft is not just practical but deeply personal. “I find joy and peace in this work. I don’t have to wander in search of jobs. I’m content and happy doing what I love.”
As he reflects on his journey, Manu offers simple yet profound advice: “Do what you’re passionate about. There is happiness and satisfaction in following your passion. I never gave up, and I’ve built my life around something I love. That’s the key to true joy.”