Preserving 'on-water' legacy amid changing fishing villages

In the midst of Hong Kong's bustling cityscape, there are still traditional fishing villages that offer a glimpse into a way of life that is rapidly changing.

Nestled in the lush greenery of Aberdeen Promenade is a temporary structure that resembles the houseboats of yore. The Fishing Culture Museum, as it is called, showcases exquisite models of dragon boats, colorful fishing hats, display panels with historic photos of Aberdeen Harbor and a cloth signboard at the entrance.

The old photos on the walls of this mini museum bear witness to the fishing boats that once anchored in Aberdeen Harbor and the lives of the "on-water people".

Aberdeen fishing village, which dates back to the 14th century, was once one of the four largest fishing villages in Hong Kong. In its heyday, during the 1970s, the village was home to over 50,000 fishermen. Back then, the sampans were not just tools for fishing, but also the homes of families.

"Until the mid-20th century, thousands of fisher families lived on houseboats. Now, most of them have been replaced by yachts and motorized fishing boats," says Pang Kitling, the curator of the Fishing Culture Museum.

Pang says she hopes to preserve the most glorious era of Hong Kong's fishing industry and maritime culture.

"I hope that memories of savoring the taste of Aberdeen's seafood while admiring the scenery of the typhoon shelters will not disappear with time."

Chan Chi-ho, a 63-year-old native of Aberdeen, shares the same wish. He grew up on a fishing boat and has worked in fishing, fish processing and export. "Many people nowadays do not understand the fishing culture of Hong Kong," he says.

To prevent the loss of said culture, Chan has been serving as a volunteer fish market tour guide for the South District Tourism and Cultural Festival for over a decade. He explains the changes and development of the fish market and reveals the mysterious side of Aberdeen Harbor.

"Although the once-bustling typhoon shelter is no longer the same, and fishing on houseboats is gradually declining, some things, if not well-preserved, cannot be reproduced," Chan says.

From his grandfather's generation that went out to sea to fish, to his father's generation that sold fish, to Chan's generation, which is taking over the family business, the family has witnessed the changes and the glorious period of the fishing industry, the seafood market's heyday and the fishermen's transition to "going ashore".

Chan says the changes in fishing methods reflect the changes technology has brought to traditional industries. "When I was young and went out to sea, my mother used to listen for the movement of fish and could determine their location with her ears.

"Nowadays, instruments can detect the type and precise location of fish, shrimp and crab from far away, and they can be automatically captured in different ways, which saves time and effort," says Chan.

Around 1990, Chan took over the family business, and switched to seafood trading and wholesale. He says the mainland has a large population and market, and the increasing frequency of Hong Kong's seafood import and export trade with the mainland has filled the void left by the decline of Hong Kong's fishing industry.

"Hong Kong lacks competitiveness in artificial aquaculture technology, and there is a shortage of fishermen, but the mainland has provided significant support in this area," he says.

Chan Fu-ming, born in the 1950s, comes from a long line of Hong Kong boat dwellers.

His generation of fishermen ushered in a new era, settling down on land.

Despite the change, he still works in the fishing industry. He assists fishermen in resolving issues that arise onshore and advocates for their rights and interests. Also, he promotes dragon boat culture.

Chan Fu-ming's deep attachment to the ocean is evident when he says, "my family and I still reside nearby after coming ashore, and we hope that what we see around us are the boats and that sea we remember".

He often reminisces about his life on the water. "Although it was hard work, hauling in the nets and seeing the fish, shrimp and crabs leap onto the boat can bring joy that money can never buy."