Fishing for stories 2

by

This morning, Earth Day, I followed the trail of fish. They were easy to spot. The fish were in wooden trays and they were traveling on the back of motorcycles, they were being pushed on carts, and they were in little motorcycle transport vehicles, all laid out neatly on ice.

They led me to the Port de Peche of Casablanca, where the fishermen sell their catch.

There I met the crew of a fishing boat called the Berkine. The crew of eighteen men set out last night around eight o’clock. They came into port  about seven-thirty this morning. They caught 12 plastic crates of sardines, twenty kilos each. A good catch, I thought, but Hamid Elhadani, the young fisherman, didn’t think so. He has been fishing for six years and says they used to bring in as many as 300 crates of sardines. The last year and a half, he says, the fishing just hasn’t been as good. He blames a French pipeline company, which he says puts too many chemicals into the water. They go out six days a week to support their families. Hamid has two young sons and a daughter. The Moroccan state should do something to protect the water and the fish, he says, but they don’t.
Nature, too, he tells me, nature is different now. We always had big waves sometimes, but now we have more of them–six and seven meters high.

the crew of the Berkine

the captain having his tea

the fish market

fisherman relaxing after the catch is in

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