We want to see master plan, says resident
from three hours of labour on the day the New Straits Times caught up with him, and d’Costa duly threw them back into the sea, hoping that they would spawn.
“Only geragau is available here these days. Other species of fish have depleted. Those days, in June when it is the geragau season, I can easily catch up to 40kg within three hours. Now, I catch so few that they can’t even be used to cook a proper dish,” he said.
Those in the Portuguese Settlement have had several brushes with the authorities over the years, in battles for their plot to not be taken away by reclamation.
Chef and traditional Portuguese cuisine campaigner Benildus da Silva, 42, believes the compensation paid by the state government should be in the form of increased educational and commercial opportunities.
“Our livelihoods, the traditional ways, they are gone. We came from the sea, so we would want to live by the sea. But that can’t be the case anymore. We are a small (community of ) people, just about 2,000 of us living here. We can’t fight the authorities and large corporations.
“Some of us in the Portuguese Settlement had been compensated with a nominal sum for the loss of livelihood, but many who agreed did not see the bigger picture. We are losing something that has been a part of us, which we can’t get back.
“What they should have asked for was compensation in the form of opportunities. If the land was to be reclaimed, we should be given commercial lots to do business and our children given opportunities in education, so they can find other jobs, instead of the traditional ones.”
It isn’t just those in the Portuguese Settlement who are affected.
Along the coast in Klebang and Tanjung Kling, fishermen are facing similar plights due to declining marine life caused by what they claimed was excessive reclamation.
The days of the coastal fishermen, said Rodrigues, were gone, with conditions fit only for larger industrialsized trawlers who ply their trade in deeper waters.
“There is no place for the traditional fisherman on the coast. It is all gone. We have to move on, but it is sad that Malacca has lost this part of our heritage,” he said, an air of defeat about him. MALACCA: Is Malacca’s future, particularly that along its storied coastline, one that is bereft of its traditional ways, a sprawling metropolis inhabited by foreigners buying into foreign investments?
This is the multi-billion ringgit question asked by many as the face of the 70km-long coastline transforms through massive reclamation works.
“What we would all like to see is a master plan on what these reclamation projects are going to project,” said Lim Heng Tin, a 66-yearold whose childhood memories of growing up on Kampung Hailam’s lush beach have been wiped away by rapid erosion in the past two months.
From where the fallen Malacca Club Rotunda’s guardpost lies in shambles, having been blown to pieces during high tide on Friday morning, with the beach that once protected it well eroded, Kampung Hailam folk need to just look out to sea to find the alleged reason for the damage.
From Klebang, to the west of the Kampung Hailam cape, beyond what was once the turtle hatching haven of Pulau Upeh, dredging is visible, as landfills push on further into deeper sea.
So far, there are plans available for the RM8 billion Melaka Gateway port, which is an extension of Pulau Melaka up to Pulau Upeh, along with commercial and residential developments within its project.
Another mammoth project — the RM12.5 billion Kuala Linggi International Port (KLIP), is being questioned by experts who said the project has not been approved by the Department of Environment.
On Nov 6, the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) released to the New Straits Times damning statistics of the dwindling number of recorded landings of the critically endangered Hawksbill turtles along the Malacca coastline.
Residents, too, have highlighted the lack of turtle landings, which, in past years, have been sighted along the coast from Klebang, with Pulau Upeh, now close to no longer being an island, recording among the highest landings.
The Malacca government, possibly alerted to the damage being done to turtle habitats, on Nov 7 announced through Tanjung Bidara assemblyman Datuk Md Rawi Mahmud the designation of an 800m stretch of beach along Padang Kamunting to Air Hitam Darat as a turtle sanctuary, to be left untouched and devoid of human activities to allow turtles to lay eggs.
Along the coast, there are stories such as how restaurant owner Bertrand Pau and residents in a neighbouring condominium block were locked in a legal and lengthy debate with the state government as the dredging began to reclaim land in front of what was once seafronting properties.
The result? Reclamation commenced to the left and right of their properties, eventually leaving an eyesore of a pool of stagnant seawater fronting their property.
“We must know what we want. But what is happening here, nobody knows. They just seem to reclaim and reclaim with no end,” said Pau.
“Tourism is Malacca’s bread and butter. Tourists come for our tradition, heritage and beaches. But what is left of those now? This is what everybody should ask.”