The sun had yet to fully appear on the eastern horizon in Pangandaran, a scenic West Java coastal town facing the Indian Ocean. Giant bubbling waves rolled toward the coast, forming long running white lines and crashing onto the shores.

On a brown sandy beach, traditional fishermen joined hands and pushed a blue fiber boat, Putra Sekawan, from the sand into the sea and against the waves.

Ngadino, a fisherman and the boat skipper, skillfully sped through the waves into the open seas. Upon reaching the intended spot, he ordered his two-man crew to lower the fishnet.

Once the equipment was in place, Putra Sekawan raced back to shore, where dozens of people — women and men — were ready to drag the net and reap the catch.

The amount of catch is, of course, uncertain. “Sometimes we catch a lot of fish and sometimes we hardly net anything,” said Ngadino, 43, who makes up to six fishing trips a day when the weather permits.

“Yesterday was a lucky day; we caught a lot of trevallies and everyone [in the group] earned Rp 60,000 [about US$4.02].”

Today we were a bit unlucky and each of us will earn anything between Rp 10,000 and Rp 15,000,” he said pointing at buckets containing small fish and ponyfish.

Traditionally, the local fishermen divide themselves into groups and each member receives equal shares from the catch sales. Ngadino’s team consists of
16 fishermen.

The catch is sold to a tengkulak (wholesaler). Trevallies sell for Rp 60,000 per kilogram, small fish Rp 20,000 and ponyfish Rp 10,000.

With rudimentary equipment, traditional fishermen are unable to compete with large-scale entrepreneurs who employ modern fishing technology. The market system makes them dependent on tengkulak, who dictate prices, thus perpetuating their poverty.

Perhaps Ngadino’s life reflects that of Indonesian traditional fishery people in Indonesia.

Into the ocean: Men and women push the fishing boat Putra Sekawan into the sea.

Riding the waves: Ngadino (left) drives the fishing boat Putra Sekawan. The other two crew members assist him in lowering the net.

Never too old to pull: Sapar, 80, is the oldest among the fisherfolk under Ngadino’s captainship. She is one of the net pullers.

Catch of the day: On one of those “unlucky” days, only a few small fish are caught.

Calling it a day: Fisherfolk make up the net so that it is ready for use the next day.

Not bad: Trevally is among the most common fish Pangandaran fisherfolk net. It catches Rp 60,000 per kilogram.

Text and photos by Arief Suhardiman