The flamingoes seem happy in their corner of Pulicat Lake. Impervious to their surroundings, they march on contended, on the silver-grey expanse of shallow waters, off the hamlet of Annamalaicheri. Apart from being a hotspot for prawns and water birds, this region is also known for its fish markets, which are unlike any of those found in the city.
We row by the lagoon on a pleasant afternoon, when two fibre-boats shoot past us with their engines screaming. “They’re going to buy fish,” says fisherman Annamalai, our guide. “Is there a market on the bank, far beyond?” we wonder aloud. “No,” he explains, “There’s nothing but the sea beyond the green patch there.” But where would the fish be sold? In the middle of the lake? “Yes,” he says, as a matter of fact.
Just then, we catch up with the two fibre boats. They stand sandwiching a third boat, in which Prabu, the owner, and Prakash, his co-worker, bustle about with their catch. The floor is covered with flat, grey fish that Prakash scoops into a heap. Muthu and Babu look on from their respective boats. “We have plenty of madavai and oran ,” Prabu tells them. “These are the two main varieties found in this region.” He looks up at us, smiling, and says, “We sell fish. A nadamadum market, that’s what we are.”
Babu, a vendor from the nearby Sunnambukulam village, has hired a boat at Annamalaicheri to come shopping for sea food. “I will sell this for wholesale at the market back home,” he explains. Muthu has brought his own handmade measuring scale, called the ‘maal tharasu’, which consists of a fishing net and a metal twine. Most of those who come shopping here carry their own measuring, scales and weighing stones. Prakash weighs the flat oran fish and tips the lot into a plastic container in his customer’s boat, saying, “We’re selling a kilogram for Rs.150 today.”
Within 20 minutes, his entire catch is sold out. “This is the freshest fish one can possibly buy,” smiles Babu. “There’s no ice involved in its storage; the taste, therefore, is superior.” He hands over the money to Prabu and speeds away on his boat. Then, Prabu and his mate stop for the lunch of kanji that their wives have packed for them in silver containers, before they spread out their nets once more.
This is their routine: the men leave early in the day for the lagoon, with their nets and lunch dabbas nestled in their boat. They start fishing for the catch, which is usually sold within minutes, to buyers who come for them on boats. Vendors from the surrounding regions sail by throughout the day to buy from them. All the transactions happen on the water — it’s common to see men scribbling accounts on their notebooks and counting cash, as their boatmen steer them home on the waters of Pulicat.
“We continue fishing till the end of the day. The leftovers are sold in our village, or we take them home for our family,” explains Prabu. The concept of a mobile fish market has been in existence for several years in the region. Locals say that of the 200 fishing boats in Annamalaicheri, 20 are employed for this purpose. “We’ll get going now,” calls out Prabu. “We’ve sold everything we caught, there’s plenty of work to do. Customers might arrive anytime.”
