A late catamaran is brought in on to the beach. These traditional kattumaram become really heavy after a day in the water. They will have to make place for the lighter polyester boats. So this view will disappear totally in the near future.
This scene reminds me the many times I went to sea with the fishermen of Devaneri, a hard and risky job, many lost their life on the sea, widows becoming second wives of their sister's husband, a tradition in this community to solve the problem of the many not-re-marry-able widows.
A close community considered as lower cast, having their own village president and socio-structures, almost unpenetrable by police law and order as they fix their own problems by themselves. Village gatherings sometimes taking rights in their own hands.
The beach is their work field belonging to them, hotels claming to share it. Politicians knowing that they are a very strong electoral platform, reaching many times the news showing their donations like all the new polyester boats for each family given after the Tsunami.
No I'm not born a fisherman, really sick fishing the whole night at sea on the Kingfish, almost drown by jumping to far away from shore in to the sea ...
But when I see Pitchai, my formal fisherman host, we drink a whisky together, remembering the good time in Devaneri and how lucky they were to survive the Tsunami disaster.