Fishermen dismayed to find only one hilsa in the net that sat across the breadth of the Sela river for six hours.
Fishing in the delta is becoming increasingly stressful.
Catching a nap, waiting for his net to catch something in the rising tide.
A hilsa fisherman's kid grabs an opportunity to bathe in fresh rainwater. Spending days on end in the estuarine delta, freshwater is a luxury.
They came to catch the lucrative hilsa, but this was the worst season in 35 years, they said. Crabs will have to do, but they don't fetch nearly enough
Hilsa fishermen docked, waiting for a lull in the driving monsoon rains. Hilsa fishing peaks in the monsoon.
Hilsa fishermen's kids are prime targets for pirates. They kidnap kids at will and hold them for ransom.
Any fish? No, Nothing! The same answers rang out under dark monsoon skies. The rivers were running empty.
A traditional sea-going hilsa fishing trawler, made of pashur wood. Some trawlers are made of dipterocarps.
The fish markets at Daulatkhan are renowned for their hilsa. But the large crates sat empty. No fish, no business this year.
Hilsa fishing is lucrative, but the fish is becoming increasingly rare. Debts are mounting and the pressure in fishing is immense.
With debts running deeper from empty nets, these fishermen will have to migrate to cities in search of daily wage-work.
The elusive Silver King of Fish: Hilsa (Tenualosa ilish) -- an Indian Shad. Prized in Bengal and increasingly rare, hilsa is now a luxury.
Pirates took him and held him for nine days. “I was on a boat, where would I escape to? No, it is best to wait out these kidnappings.”
They fed him once in two days, he said. On the appointed day, he was returned to his parents for 20,000 Taka in ransom.
“The pirates came last night. They began to beat up my brother. We begged them to let him go. They did, but they took our trawler. Now we have five days to come up with 5,000 Taka.”
Saiful Khan's brother had been painfully stung by the eel-tailed catfish. Khan rued these days as bad days. He’d also ominously added that someone somewhere was poisoning fish broods; that the fish were disappearing.
Trawling the shores for shrimp fry at the village of Joymoni. This village was affected badly by the oil spill in December.
The docks at Tulatuli in the active delta lay silent. There were no hilsa this year.
Beautiful, makes me want to go!
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