THIRUVANANTHAPURAM: Anyone visiting Vizhinjam during the trawling ban season would once see bustling activity — fish vendors calling out prices, baskets brimming with fresh catch, and buyers crowding the harbour. But this year, the scene is starkly different. Many stalls lie empty, and vendors sit idle, waiting for fish that never came.
The 52-day trawling ban, which began on June 9, has typically been a crucial period for fishers in Vizhinjam to earn more, save money, and clear debts, as their coastal waters lie outside the ban zone. But this year, that seasonal advantage has vanished.
Most fisher families in the region say their fortunes have plummeted since May, with poor catches forcing them into deeper debt. Many boat owners, having no other livelihood, took fuel and materials on credit and ventured into the sea hoping for better returns—but the sea has continued to disappoint.
“Four workers and I went to sea on Saturday. If we had gotten a good catch, I could’ve cleared my debts,” said Ousep, a fisherman with three decades of experience. “But we caught only small fish that sold for just Rs 1,000. I had spent Rs 8,700 on the trip.
After paying the workers Rs 200 each, I was left with Rs 200. I’m now hiding from moneylenders. I don’t even have money to buy essentials for my family. Who do we turn to with this plight?” While a few boats were lucky to get a better haul that fetched higher prices, fish vendors say even those cases offer little relief.
“It was mostly small fish, and to earn anything, we need to sell at Rs 300 per kg,” said Marystella, a seafood vendor who sells fish in the city. “But customers are not willing to pay that much. Some would highlight the cargo ship accident to lower the prices. In the end, we are forced to sell at Rs 100 or Rs 150 per kg. We are barely breaking even.”
On Sunday, the local church held the annual blessing of the sea, a ritual many fishermen hold on to for hope.
Following the ceremony, some ventured out again on Tuesday, praying for a turnaround.
“The ban runs until July 31, but we haven’t had a proper catch since May,” said Markose, a boat owner. “The sea that once supported us seems to have turned its back. We’re holding on to the hope that things will change after the blessing.” Even migrant fishermen from Tamil Nadu, who typically arrive in Vizhinjam during the trawling ban, have been forced to return empty-handed.
“We came from Thoothukudi and spent more than the locals, only to suffer a Rs 15,000 loss,” said Selvamani, a visiting fisherman. “I have been coming here for 15 years, but I have never seen such a poor season. Maybe it is the result of climate change or shipping accidents. Whatever it is, it has pushed us into deep misery.”
With weeks still left in the ban period, fishers across Vizhinjam are clinging to hope, faith—and the mercy of the sea.