CHENNAI: Once upon a time fishermen in Chennapatnam ventured into the sea to return with pearls that were traded with kingdoms overseas. Today, fishermen in Chennai are not even sure if they would return with fishes, forget pearls.

Muthu and his three friends set out to fish five days ago at midnight as the wind seemed favourable. They stayed afloat in mid-sea for about two days, tugging at their closely-knitted nets, waiting for a prized catch but returned on Saturday morning with trash fish and a few fat crabs; nothing more.

S.Manoharan, who has been in the trade for 50 years at Uroor-Olcott Kuppam in Besant Nagar, says despite observing a 45-day ban on fishing recently, several species of fishes have not shown signs of re-appearing.

"In the past 4 or 5 years, some 10 species of fishes have disappeared from the sea," he says. Sudumbu, kondunthulai parai, ponnanthalai, meni soraa, sen sora, adukkupal sora, and maapu netthili are a few names he mentions off-hand.

"Some people blame the tsunami, some the huge mechanised trawlers ravaging the ocean, and everyone their fate," he says wryly.

M.Balu, a fisherman from Pattinapakkam, says pollution of the sea is also killing fishes. "At the Adyar River mouth, we used to catch fat prawns of export quality in the 1980s. Today, water pollution here has killed all the stock," he complains.

For the more than 10,000 fishermen who inhabit the 40 fishing hamlets dotting the Chennai coast these are bad times. These fishermen ply their catamarans and small fibre boats in the sea for about 20 days a month, but after recovering the input costs such as those on diesel they save little.

After the tsunami, several fisher "coolies" turned fishermen with boats of their own. This has increased the competition. And such fishermen also lose out to those with the advantage of technology and better skills.

Kumar, a fisherman from Uroor-Olcott Kuppam, says several fisher families are now caught in the debt trap. "Those who got new fibre boats after the tsunami are now selling it off to fishermen in Andhra Pradesh as they find it of no use any longer," he says.

Despite these tides of uncertainty, fishermen continue in the trade, weaving their own nets, building their own boats and more than anything else, trusting their own instincts to survive.

Balu says many fishermen continue to be the children of tradition.

"We use our arms to measure distance and watch for the direction of wind to predict the location of fish shoals. Some fishermen rely purely on intuition to predict at what depth fishes will be available," he says.

The job is fraught with dangers. Five days ago, Ramu was stung by a poisonous variety of Keluthi fish while he was removing fish from the net.

Also strong waves can capsize the boat.

Balu said eight months ago in Kovalam an 18-year-old boy died when the boat toppled under a strong wave and hit him on the chest.

Fishermen have evolved ways to cope with the uncertainties at work.

"I drink 4-5 glasses of sundakanji (rice beer). It removes the fatigue from the body and allows me to forget all my worries at least for the night," says Muthu.