The Sea and The Man
By
Dr.Sreenivasulu Dasari.
For the
sea and the man, it is once again an era of peaceful co-existence.
The sea
that keep snuffing out life along the coast due to sudden occurrence of
catastrophes is once again providing sustenance to myriads among fishermen
community.
The
fishermen along the coast line put out to the sea as usual without being
swamped by the scare of yet another tidal wave. The fishermen villages goes by
names of “pattapupalalu” and “pallekarla gramalu” standing for lane of sharks,
sharks and whales rarely come their way.
The
writer happened to be Collector of Prakasam District two decades back. Thick of
August,1996 storm that hit the coast, he took charge of the relief and
rehabilitation measures. He kept on his live contact with local fishermen since
then.
Tidal waves of Tsunami
(2004), Neelam (2012), Hudhud (2014) and the recent Kyant and Vardah (2016)
that ravaged
coastal belt did not have
any mercy to fishermen of ‘Tenkayachetlapalem’ in ulvapadu mandal in between
Kavali and Ongole towns. The visit of this author to this ‘Pattapupalem’ this
week presented a picture of then and now of the living pattern of the locals.
The habitation truly goes by the name with coconut groves in and around stand as
witness to the time tested successive disasters.
The
Community have no indelible marks of the past dark days. No regrets too. They
are happy with the “Pandus” and “magas” and “gurkas” and “tekis”. Of course,
these high value varieties of fish are rare now a days contrary to bountiful decades
back. The present generation is satisfied with low value ‘Korameena’, ‘peetalu’
and ‘Prawns’. The scientific reasons for the dwindling wealth of sea need to be
explored and explained yet.
Now-a-days
they listen to A.I.R. weather bulletins with a pricked up ears. When the sea is
rough and the gales are high, they return to the shore swiftly. More the
technological
advancement, lesser the
accessibility to them due to non-affordability among locals.
The
tidal wave has not wiped out the faith of the fisherman in their ancestors’
wisdom. “When the gale starts from south – east and then from north-west, a
tidal wave is inevitable”. Fifty five year old Pamanji polisetty, community
president of three fishermen villages, recalled that the storms were always along
predictable lines that hit their villages adversely.
When the
catches are poor despite good weather, they consult the “piest” of their
community and fix a “muhurat” afresh for putting out to the sea. An animal or
two are sacrificed. They go to bed in a mood of inebriation only to get up
early next morning and start on their voyage. Modernity has not brought out any
attitudinal change excepting material comforts among them. Traditional belief
is ultimate. “culturallag” is the root cause of
for this obtaining predicament says Kotangari Koteswra Rao, the priest of the
village.
In every
fishermen village, ‘Ramulavaari’ temple in the midst with ‘Ammavari’ gudi,
being the gram devata, in the same precincts is a common traditional feature.
Ramnavami is a major festival. Other local fairs and ceremonies revolve around
village devata/diety. Both the temples have a common priest among men. When
this author moved the idea of having a women priest for village goddess, the
villagers responded positively.
It has
been going on for generations. They used to put out to the sea in steamers on
Monday and return on Saturday, in time for the Sunday market in olden days.
With the increasing motorized and mechanized boats and spread of communication
net work, the routine is changing fast. In smaller boats fitted with engines,
the younger generation make it a day or two catch or hunt.
The
boats are berthed along a canal, about half a mile away from the village or agrounded
on beach sands normally.
The locals are demanding a
fishing harbor in Ramayampatnam with bucking ham canal linking to it now in
abandoned state re-
vived in terms of their
securely carrying out their activity. “The need of the hour” says Bala Murali
Kotangiri, a thirty year educated but engaged in traditional fishing, the son
of the village priest.
The owners
are few and the kalasis many. The owner engages the kalasis by paying them
advances up to Rs.5000. Rice, tamarind, oil and chilli powder and one or two
vegetables besides water are loaded on to the steamer. Alternatively, a family
consisting of 4 to 5 members too operate a boat. Women are allowed nowhere near
the boats when they start, for there is the belief of the catches being
adversely hit if the shadow of a woman in periods were to fall on them.
So
fishing is an all-male job. One of the kalasis looks after cooking. Some others
take up spreading nets. And they keep a watch by turns during nights. Rowing is
fading away from traditional sight.
The nets
should sweep the sea-bed if the fish are to be trapped. The night watchers
ensure that the nets are in positions. The fears of poachers from neighboring
states disturbing and over powering the activity continue to dominate their
minds. Small fish eating away big fish, after all. The catch is collected early in the morning.
The fish are sliced, salted and stored. The process goes on for six mornings.
The catch is brought to the shore on the sixth evening and carted out to the
fish market in the vicinity of nearby towns. The tradition no more continue.
The activity is slowly attaired by modern gadgets. Drudgery has comedown in a way.
The
revenue sharing is unique. The expenditure incurred by the boat owner initially
on maintaining the crew aboard the boat is first deduced from the total
revenue. Of the remainder, half is set apart for the boat owner for sparing the
boat and the nets. The rest is shared equally by all those who man the boat. A
kalasi gets daily wage besides free food on board. All in the past. Now it is
equally shared by the crew members after deducting half of the revenue by boat
owner.
The catches depend on the weather and their
value on the market forces. When the catches from different villages along the
coast are heaped up in local markets. The buyers
indicate the price they
are prepared to offer and strike deals. The buyers come from nearby towns. The
market price of a variety like “Pandus” used to range between Rs.35 to Rs.60
per maund (12.6kgs) earlier. In the changed scenario, the boat owner telephone
to the prospective buyers who come to the village and negotiate the price and
collect on the spot.
When the
men and boys are at sea, the women folk supplement the family’s income by
attending to manual labour like transplanting or harvesting of paddy or repair
of canals. When the catch arrive, the women used to take over the market
merchandise in olden days by carrying head load of harvest and sell in
non-fisherman villages or local markets. No more is the practice prevalent. The
mahila thrift groups known as ‘Podupu sanghalu’ are thriving to meet their
micro-credit requirements. The family as a whole look to women for source of funding their
consumption needs. A visible impacting feature of house-holds is a heartening change.
Dependence on shavkars and middle men
reduced to a considerable extent. Yet, there has been little change in their
living pattern. Girl child early marriage is again a
depressing feature in depicting their social life.
The
Government and other social service organizations have more than made up for the
losses of both boats and nets despite repeated ravages of cyclones. The mud and
thatch houses swept away in the past have given way to pucca R.C.C. homes.
Re-location of the habitation to a safer zones is a great sigh of relief now.
The remains of old houses stand on beach front with coconut plants in plenty
signify the bygones.
Now the
boats and nets are more in number and bigger in size and better in make. The
fisherman set off from nicer homes to return with bigger catches. Electricity,
Water supply and roads have taken away monotony from their dreary existence.
But all
these modern trappings have not made a dent in their traditional system of
justice dispensation by the elders of the community. Twelve leaders elected by
the 12 muthas in the
village and the
president, the secretary and the treasurer chosen by the entire community act
as elders. They are known as ‘Kapus’ in pattapupalems. These elders, who
receive no honorarium, adjudicate on
all issues ranging from assaults to marriages/divorces. The complainant has to
deposit smaller sums with the cashier and lodge the complaint. In earlier days,
it used to be Rs: 25. The elders fix a day to hear all complaints and decide issues.
Penalties ranging from 500 to 1000 rupees are levied on the guilty.
In olden
days the village elders used the penalties as also the revenue from other
sources to advance funds to the needy. Loans at the rate of Rs.100 each were
advanced to some members. The beneficiary agrees to repay the principle and the
interest decided in bidding within a year. A man who borrows say Rs 100 has to
repay about Rs.150.
The
community makes a sort of levy on all village transactions. The elders say that
a buyer used to pay five paisa per maund of fish, five paisa per bag of salt,
Rs.10 per boat or a big net bought, the village arrack dealer used to pay about
Rs.300 per month. The right to impound stray cattle is auctioned and the amount
credited to the community. This practice was prevailing three decades back.
Gone are
the days. Although it is increased now to multifold, all search revenues are utilized
for un-productive purposes like celebrating community fairs/festivals with pomp
and show. Consumption expenditure is on the raise especially on liquor.
Traditional beliefs, customs and traditions continue to dominate their living
pattern at the cost of basic community needs.
There
has been no change in the lives of commoners. Despite occasional disasters
bringing untold misery to their very basic survival, relief and rehabilitation measures
too are stepped-up matchingly. Handful of fishermen families, who could catch-up with
modern education and employment opportunities, have been prospering to show
case to others.Vayila Yanadi, a
progressive youth, is occupying a higher post as asst commercial tax officer
among them. He is striving hard to net work and educate and employ the village
youth through a social organization named as Pattapu Development EducationalForum.
“Because she named
his son as a yanadi, her progeny survived” says proudly his seventy year old
mother VayilaJalamma in her customary
belief. ‘Yanadi’ in local parlance meaning Venkateswara Swamy (Lord of seven
hills).
In retrospect,
it could be perhaps said without exaggeration that the magnitude of the
destruction is matched only by the scale of relief provided to the survivors in
terms of physical advancement. The psychological rehabilitation continue to be
a major challenge especially among the children and disabled elders.
(The writer was formerly Collector of Praksam District and
Director of State Ports of AP at Kakinada)
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