Living from hand to mouth as costs soar

“THIS is a dying trade, my friend,” Roland Wichman says. He smiles through weather-beaten eyes, the skin on his face thickened by years at sea.

“You never see youngsters on the boats any more. In the past, a skipper could take on two or three learners when going out with their crew.

“You’re spending two, three days on the boat; maybe you spend a week, two weeks. Sometimes you’re out at sea for a month, and you could take some learners with you.

“But those are mouths that need to be fed, and I can only afford to pay for my crew and the petrol and oil to make my trips to fill my quota.

“You only see the same faces out on the water these days. No one can afford to take on learners any more. “There’s a saying here,

(living from hand to mouth).” Fishing has been the livelihood of Wichman’s family for generations. His father, his father before him, and his father before him, all fished the waters off Hout Bay, the Southern Cape, Port Nolloth and other commercial fishing spots to earn their daily bread.

But things have not been plain sailing in recent times, particularly with the awarding of fishing quotas, which local fishers in Hangberg say have been handed out unjustly.

“You know who deserves a quota? These men (gesturing to his crew),” says Wichman.

“Not someone from up-country who has never worked the sea. But they take advantage of us because we are uneducated. They have the money and the power to get their quotas while we end up having to beg for scraps.”

Wichman has a near-shore annual fishing quota that allows him to take 528kg of fish out of the sea. That haul is worth about R150000.

“It might seem like much, but that’s your quota for the season. That’s your quota for the year. I still have to pay my crew of 10.

“I have school fees. I have a bond to pay. Something breaks down on the boat, it must be fixed, otherwise how am I going to work? That money disappears like that,” he says, snapping his fingers.