out at sea.

Early in the morning, large nets are pulled out to into the ocean by boats and left to sit there for a few hours as they gather the day’s catch. The boats that pull them out sit at the end of the net and eventually, when the time is right, they stand up and begin waving their shirts or a piece of clothe in the air.

Then the work begins.

The fisherman hanging out in their beach huts come out from the comfort of the shade to the scalding sand and grab hold of the lines that extend out from both sides of the net. Then the pulling begins. They begin marching in lockstep, decades of family knowledge passed down to their skinny legs and scarred hands.

The pulling begins on the edge of the ocean and slowly they march along the scalding surface to the end of the beach. Then the last one in line walks to the front to start the whole process over again.

Slowly, slowly the nets come closer. Eventually, after around an hour the prize also comes closer and the singing and chanting becomes louder and more furious as the two sides cajole each other to keep working.

As the nets get a few meters from shore the yelling reaches a fever pitch as the fishermen run into their sea, yelling with tribal ferocity, to grab their booty.

Nets are pulled onto the sand then crowds gather to the see the haul and women in bright dresses pick up errant fish that have fallen out of the nets.