The old men and the sea

Merlimau's fishermen are casting their hopes on the sea rather than on the government for their survival.

MERLIMAU: Tan Chai Lai, 56, doesn’t have much in life. But every afternoon he lugs a bulging blue garbage bag of cooked rice and chicken to the Merlimau jetty to feed the village stray cats.

On that particularly blistering afternoon he was squatting at his usual spot and scooping out handfuls of food to the mewling felines around him as his fellow villagers watched in amusement.

“This man has a big heart for animals,” shouted a villager crossing the bridge above. “He even feeds my cat!”

Tan laughed and shouted back, “God takes care of those who take care of his creations!”

Unfortunately God’s other creations in the village of Merlimau Pantai aren’t being looked after with as much care.

Merlimau Pantai is about 10km from Merlimau town.

The tiny village is home to 50 fishermen and their families. For every day that is kissed by fair weather, the fishermen push out to sea, often as far out as 10 nautical miles or 55km, in their battered wooden boats.

Each departure yields an uncertain return for unforeseen rough waves can smash the old boats to pieces. But they have no choice if they want to earn the average monthly income of RM450.

The sunburnt Tan, who is fondly known as Teko among his community, flashed a big rueful grin at the mention of government aid.

“You know how the government boasts of Malacca being a developed state?” he asked as glanced around. “Do you see any development here? It’s a desolate, isolated place.”

“We are a forgotten community. The only improvement was last week when the road leading here was repaved. But that’s because of the by-election. Otherwise we’re not on the government’s radar.”

Common problems

Tan fishes and repairs boats to make ends meet as there isn’t any government allocation to resolve the common problems of sunken boats and stolen or broken engines. There also isn’t an allocation for extra boats needed by some fishermen who want to expand their trade.

“Before Merlimau had its own State Legislative Assembly seat, it fell under the Sungai Rambai and Jasin constituency. But neither the assemblyman nor the MP showed his face here.”

(The former Sungai Rambai assemblyman, Ahmad Ithinin, is the late father of the BN candidate, Roslan Ahmad.)

“The only person who tried to do something for us was (the late Merlimau assemblyman) Mohammad Hidhir (Abu Hassan),” Tan added. “At least he asked the state government for the allocations. But he died before any change could take place.”

Neither the BN nor PAS contingent had dropped by his village yet and when they do Tan won’t be pushing for these changes.

“I’m just tired of asking,” he shrugged. “We’ve been let down so many times that it’s easier to not ask and not receive. Anyway they wouldn’t step foot here if it wasn’t for the by-election.”

Yet there are others who are waiting for the parties to arrive to express the full extent of their frustration to both parties.

“It’s time the politicians did something for our community,” growled Mat Nor Boyak, 55. “Nothing has changed in my 15 years of fishing except the price of boats and engines.”

“The fishermen’s fund is rubbish as is the fisherman’s society. The only applications that are immediately approved are bank loans so everyone is in debt here.”

A decent boat, he said, cost RM5,000. When fitted with an engine and filled with nets, the cost could sky-rocket to RM15,000. The monthly instalments took RM200 out of their paycheques. So Mat Nor has prepared two proposals for Roslan and PAS candidate Yuhaizad Abdullah.

Consolation prize

“Right now we are given a subsidy of 35 litres of petrol for RM43.75,” he explained. “But this is like winning a consolation prize. It’s not good enough. Give us 20 litres for free instead. That would help us more.”

“And instead of building bridges and houses, give each fisherman an allocation. Come back after a year and see if they have put that money to good use. If they have, continue helping them. If they haven’t, strike them off the list.”

Azmi Khamis, 46, who has been a fisherman for 30 years, shared his fear of the industry dying a slow and inevitable death.

“Most of the older fishermen are discouraging their sons from following in their footsteps because they know that their children will continue living hand to mouth,” he said while untangling the nets in his boat.

“And the luckier youths have found jobs in factories outside this village. So one day there will no more fishermen in Merlimau.”

Evening was approaching and the men were keen on getting back to their families. Azmi and Mat Nor bade farewell but Tan picked up a greasy toolkit and trotted down to the row of 60 fishing boats.

He clambered into a particularly old one, took the engine apart and studied it. Then he rummaged in his toolkit and pulled out a spanner.

“This is my boat,” he said with a quick smile. Watching him tinker with the sputtering engine, one can only hope that it will continue bringing him home safely to those who depend on him. - FMT