A fisherman returns on his boat to the Koliwada, or fishermen's village, near the newly built Worli Sea Link bridge in western Mumbai city. Most fishermen in the area are Catholics. (Photo by Binu Alex)
This article was first published on Oct. 25, 2019
A wake-up bell rings at three in the morning at Michael Koli's home on the Arabian Sea coast, a stone's throw away from Mumbai city in India.
The 59-year-old Catholic reaches out to his rosary and kisses it before switching off the alarm.
Almost simultaneously, a chorus of alarms goes off in the entire fishing village in Worli, a peninsular jetting into the sea from the city, India's commercial capital.
Michael kneels down in front of a small altar, makes a sign of the cross and softly recites the Angelus.
He then gingerly hops over the other family members sleeping on the floor of their one-bedroom house, located at the far end of the village, and enters the congested lane that leads to the seashore.
Within 10 minutes, most men in the Koliwada, the fishermen's village, are ready to venture out to sea for their day's work of fishing.
Michael changes into his work dress, standing outside the house. His dress, fishing gear and all he needs for work are hung outside the home lest he disturbs the sleep of his family members.
One of his two sons helps him with fishing. The other works as a driver. Both married with children, they live in the same one-room house as their father.
The houses in the Koliwada have no locks, while the doors are kept open during the night to let the cool breeze in from the sea.
Michael’s family own a fan but use it sparingly to allow the breeze to do its job. Despite the open doors, the residents claim that they have had no robberies so far.
It is hard to negotiate the hamlet's congested lanes in the wee hours of the morning. There is hardly any space for an outsider to enter their homes.
"Even if someone managed to enter, what can they take away?" one fisherman asked, explaining why they have no locks.
Poverty rules the fishermen's close-knit settlement in the shade of the glitzy glamour and tall buildings of Mumbai.
Not far from the newly built Worli Sea Link bridge, Michael is now ready with his small boat to venture into the sea, armed with holy water and his rosary.
Koli is a common surname for almost all men in the Koliwada. The Koli people are the native fisherpeople of the area.
Michael Koli (right) works with a colleague to sort fish from their net. The Catholic fisherman says his faith sustains him despite the poverty faced by fishing communities. (Photo by Binu Alex)
Portuguese influence
The arrival of the Portuguese in the 16th century to Mumbai (formerly Bombay) led to a section of Koli people converting to the Catholic faith. In Michael's hamlet, Catholics outnumber their Hindu brethren.
By afternoon, after returning from the sea, Michael and his friends, Johnson Patil and Richard Koli, work together to mend their nets.
The sun pierces the plastic roof of their shack, making it hotter inside than it was outside.
"Yes, each one of us recites the rosary and other prayers before throwing the net into the sea," Johnson said as he struggled with the complicated twists and turns of the net, his eyes fixed on the task.
"We go to church every Sunday and consider the priest as our guiding angel," he continued. For every problem, they go to the priest, seeking his guidance and help.
Typically, fishermen from their village form teams of three or four before they set out to sea.
"For the last 50 years, I have gone virtually every day into the sea," said Michael, interrupting his work much to the dismay of his partner, who was apparently in a hurry.
Depending on the size of the net and the capacity of the boat, they decide on how far to go. While a few will not go more than three kilometers from the shore, others like Johnson will go to the deep sea for a bigger catch.
None of the Koli fishermen use modern gadgets. They bank on experience to understand the distance from the shore.
Michael said the sea makes him spiritual. He prays and sings Hallelujah, then sprinkles holy water on the net and throws it into the sea chanting "Praise the Lord," joined by his non-Catholic partners like Dinesh Koli.
A follower of the charismatic renewal movement, Michael says his favorite passage from the Bible is John 21. "Sometimes, when we sit idle for hours waiting for the catch, I narrate this passage to my colleagues," he said as Dinesh nodded.
"Yes, I know the Sea of Galilee very well. I also know about Yeesu [Jesus] asking his disciples to cast the net to the right side of their boat. At times, we also follow this out of habit as Michael has been doing this for years," Dinesh said.
"But we don't jump into the sea as apostle Simon did," Michael joked.
On days when the catch is right, they remain engaged until evening. They eat only after work. Until then, they survive on tea, biscuits and, as Michael puts it, the "Lord's blessings."
As the sun sets, Michael said it wasn't a good day. "The catch was poor. It wasn't enough even to take care of the fuel for the boat," he said without a hint of sadness.
His catch was sold for 300 rupees (about US$5). "But God takes care of us. If we have a poor catch today, he will compensate us with a jackpot the next day," Michael said. "It is all an act of God."
