Though their sampan is motorised, most fishermen in Chenderoh Lake, Perak prefer to move their craft with double oars to save on fuel.
Having some money with you while paddling in the middle of seemingly nowhere is useful because sometimes, you bump into fishermen. This is your big chance to be privy to really fresh catches.
In the bay off Gertak Sanggul, Penang, I once bumped into clam collectors.
A fisherman in Chenderoh Lake with two good-sized kalui (giant gourami).
The seabed was about 4m down, and I watched as two men hammered a galvanised iron pipe into the bottom to use as a guide to scrape the seabed for clams using custom-made stainless steel cage-rakes.
They looked like commandos to me, with cloth around their heads and holes cut out for their eyes and mouths.
“There are many jellyfish here. We cover ourselves like this to protect our skin,” one of them explained.
The clams they raked up were huge.
A 2kg kelabau fish lying on a paddleboard.
Luckily, my wallet was in my waterproof bag, and I had some money with me. I bought some clams from them for RM10 and boy, were they delicious!
In Chenderoh Lake, near Kuala Kangsar, I bumped into a fisherman with a large haul of kelabau fish (Osteochilus melanopleura). He offered me one for free when I said I had no money with me. But I couldn’t accept it, knowing he was in the B40 group.
So, we exchanged phone numbers, became friends, and now whenever I visit Chenderoh Lake, I text him and bring along some cash so I can buy fish from him fair and square.
He sells kelabau fish to collectors for RM20 to RM30 per kilogram, while at river fish restaurants, we, the end consumers, buy them for about RM100 per kilogram.
A clam collector sitting in his boat with a large haul of clams.
Whenever I meet fishermen at sea or on a lake, I try my best to pay them almost what I would pay at a restaurant to give them the joy of selling to end consumers.
It’s good enough for me to buy super fresh fish just a little cheaper than market or restaurant prices while enjoying the chance to meet with another person on the water.
That said, I have encountered fishermen who were not so friendly; it was as if I was an intruder on their fishing grounds. Perhaps someone had violated their nets or traps in the past?
Now, I greet them heartily from metres away, ask permission to come abreast of their boats before drawing near.
A close-up of the fat clams caught by collectors in the middle of the bay off Gertak Sanggul, Penang.
The friendly ones tend to get curious about my kayak or paddleboard and really want to know how stable my watercraft is, since mine is a whole lot narrower than theirs.
Once the ice is broken, they become really proud of showing what they have caught, and if there is a tasty fish on their boat, the money I would be carrying would make the humble fishermen happy and grant me a fabulous meal to remember for a long time.
