Then & dhow
All the attention is on the 21st-century skylines of the Gulf, but the dhows that ply the local waters are among the oldest ships known to man, says Kate McAuley
It was late at night when Rajesh Singh, a gangly 45-year-old from Mumbai, was rudely awoken.
“At first I didn’t understand what was happening,” he says. “All I remember was hearing a lot of banging and shouting, and then a gunshot.” The galley cook concertinaed himself out of his bunk and rushed to the top deck to find the boat on which he worked had been boarded by pirates.
“I have been working on dhows all my life,” he says. “We’d all heard stories of pirates. Most of the time they don’t hurt anyone, but some men have been beaten and even killed. When it happened to us, we were alone, just off the coast of Somalia. There were four young men on a powered boat and they had guns. They took some of our cargo and all the money we had. It could’ve been worse – often they hijack the dhows and demand the owners pay a ransom for their release. I am scared to sail to Somalia now, but what can I do? This is my job and I have to support my family.”
Tales of high-seas piracy are not what most people associate with the Arabian Gulf, with its reputation for ambitious land reclamation and headline-grabbing construction projects. But cast your eyes down from the audacious skylines to the water’s edge. Moored along the snaking Creek that cuts through the centre of Dubai are dozens of dhows, nudging against each other, three or four abreast – a striking contrast to the surrounding glass-and-steel towers. In Doha, similar vessels seek shelter by the Corniche and, in Bahrain, they are dotted along every stretch of available coastline.
The dhows, which are still constructed in a traditional style, have been sailing the trade routes between Arabia, India and East Africa for centuries, ever since the realisation, possibly 2,000 years ago, that the winds of the area followed a pattern as regular as the movement of the sun and moon. Although their masts have long been removed and engines built in, these fleets of smallish boats represent a pocket-sized reminder of the region’s history.
Despite the ubiquity of massive container ships, the dhow trade is secure in its niche – these boats are small and adaptable, they don’t need much in the way of expensive port facilities and crews are willing to sail fraught and, otherwise, economically unviable routes. All of which helps to guarantee a living for the thousands of men who work on them now and for those who will in the future.
“For as far back as my family can remember, we have worked the dhows,” says Iranian Ahmed Mohammed. “I am the captain, my brother is onboard too and my eldest son will join us next year.” He declines to reveal his age and his weather-worn features are hard to read, but the anecdotes are revealing enough. “I started working with my father when I was just a boy. Then, the boats didn’t have a motor or propeller, we could only sail with the help of the wind.” The sail to which he refers is the iconic triangular rig known as the lateen, which was developed on the Arabian Peninsula centuries ago and which can still be seen on those boats kept in their original condition. “We haven’t used kamels
[a navigation tool that references the stars to read latitude] in my lifetime,” adds Mohammed, “though I have one at home. It’s a family treasure. Now we use compasses and the radio. Some of the boats even have a GPS system. The hull is also held together by nails now, rather than sewn, like it was hundreds of years ago.”
Such, relatively, minor changes aside, dhows have remained the same in their general shape and utility throughout time. On board, the work is hard and the creature comforts minimal. The men take it in turns to sleep on the communal, thinly cushioned wooden bunks, the food is always simple, such as rice and curried chicken, which the sailors share from a large communal plate, and free-time entertainment often consists of nothing more than the odd card game and listening to the radio – if they can get a signal. All this sounds bearable for a day or two, but often these men are away for months at a time, with only a few days’ shore leave at the next port and infrequent visits home to see their families to look forward to.
Regardless of the obstacles, the crews take pride in their work. “We’re traders,” says Mohammed, “responsible for taking things here and there. Picking up and dropping off. From the Gulf we take car tyres, TVs, microwaves, chocolates, toys and spices to Africa, India and Pakistan. We bring back fruit, spices again and other things that are needed in this part of the world. We’re not really concerned with what we carry, as long as it is not illegal or perishable. I don’t like to carry bananas because one rotten banana can send the whole load bad.” It’s not an easy existence. “We don’t get a lot of time off because, when we stop, we lose money. So we either suffer through missing our families or by being at home, earning nothing.” It’s labour-intensive work that doesn’t pay much: the men don’t own the boats, so the lion’s share of this niche industry lines the pockets of those who do.
“It is difficult,” agrees Benny Hernandez, one of the few crew-men from the Philippines. “I used to work on the trading boats. A couple of years ago, I was thrown overboard in a storm and the waves were huge, crashing over the side. I thought I was going to die, but luckily my friends were able to haul me out. After that, I decided to move to a fishing dhow because they don’t travel as far from the coast and the weather is calmer, more predictable.”
With the increasing numbers of tourists now visiting the Gulf, some savvy operators are converting dhows to facilitate “cruise experiences”. Dubai leads the pack with its recent acquisition of the region’s largest dhow. “I have heard about these cruises and about this big boat coming to Dubai,” says Mohammed. “I can’t understand it. It’s the last thing I would want to do on my time away from work, but who knows? Maybe if I visit their country, I would like to try out their job for a day.”
|
 |
