|
He saved money for a few years and borrowed the rest until he was eventually able buy his own beach seine boat. For the last five years, his boat helped his workers and their families try to make ends meet. This lifeline was taken away from them on 26 December last year.
K. Parameswaran remembers being on the beach when the tsunami struck.
“I was preparing the nets, calling the workers and getting ready to go,” he said. “The current seemed quite fast so we hesitated, then suddenly the water rose and we saw a tidal wave coming. We dropped everything and ran.”
When he mustered the courage to return to the beach the following morning, he found his fishing equipment scattered everywhere, the boat damaged and nearly all his nets lost.
For four months, K. Parameswaran and his crew did not go back out to sea. There were radio warnings of another tsunami. But over and above the fear, there were other, more practical reasons. Reports of fish eating people who had been swept away by the wave slashed demand. There was also the risk of further damaging their already compromised equipment. The beach had been cleared but not the sea - logs and other debris still threatened to rip through nets.
With no other source of income to turn to, by May they had repaired the boat, mended the remaining nets and started fishing once again. With few other options of earning a living, most of the crew has returned to work the same boat.
Kalidas Ramadas, is one such worker. Aged 59, he is nearing the end of his working life and is quite an exception on the pardu. Hauling in the catch from a beach seine boat is such physically demanding work that most fishermen have to retire in their 40s and are forced to rely on their children for support.
“Before the tsunami the catch was very good and I had no problems with daily living, but since the tsunami I have undergone severe difficulties as I haven’t been at sea for several months,” Kalidas said.
“There were no jobs for us and we had to borrow to pay for food and clothing. Even now, because the situation continued for more than four months and since the catch is not that satisfactory, it’s difficult to manage. I bring home 50 to 100 rupees a day but need around 200 (just over £2) to look after my family.”
Poor
Kalidas started fishing from the age of 12 alongside his father as his family was too poor to send him to school. Kalidas and his wife, R. Thailamai have raised six children and still look after his daughter and her three children who lost their father to the conflict.
His wife and mother used to sell breakfast to the fishermen on the beach but the wave also took away that source of family income. “If I have enough money to make them, I prepare string hoppers and short eats [Sri Lankan snacks] which I sell to neighbours in the village. If there is a good catch I sell to people on the beach but I can’t do that this month as it’s very poor,” R. Thailamai, explained.
The grandmother, Kaliammah, used to live on the beach but she has moved to a wattle and daub hut on scrubland inside the village. At 80 years old she has had to swap making string hoppers for collecting firewood, walking great distances with bundles of logs on her head.
Hopes rest on new equipment and a good season ahead to help K. Parameswaran, his men and their families recover the losses of the tsunami.
“I need nets, a boat and a good ‘madi’ [part of the net where the catch gathers] that won’t break,” he said. “If these things are provided the workers will also benefit as there will be more fishing, more income and they will be able to work continuously.”
| 
