Gone Fishing...For Kane!
What the Hilsa means to the Bengali and the Karimeen to the Keralite, the Kane, or Ladyfish, means to the Mangalorean. It is a freshwater fish that is a great delicacy in this coastal city. MARK MANUEL goes out fishing for it.


IN little rowing fishing boats that ride the monsoon�s choppy waters dangerously, the fishermen of Mangalore go out daily in search of Kane, the city�s No. 1 table fish. My heart in my mouth, I go with them, hoping for a story, eager to see how they spread their nets for miles around into which the unsuspecting fish comes. Vinod Puthran, my host on the seas, is one of the big-time fishermen of Mangalore, he owns several trawlers, each one costing as much as Rs. 16 lakh, and his workers say he is a rich man. Since he deals mainly in Kane, which is a costly fish, minimum Rs. 150 a kg., and you get six fish per kg., I suspect it is true that Vinod is rich.

Now he stands at the bow of the little boat that is plunging into the rising waves recklessly, a tanned, stout Mangalorean, eyes squeezed into the sun to search for a good spot where the nets might be cast. For this we have to be at a confluence, a mouth, where a river meets the sea. That�s where the fish breeds. Luckily, Mangalore has two rivers, the Gurpur and the Netravathi, and we are heading for the spot where both meet the Arabian Sea. Since this is early monsoon, the sea is giving off its best, tossing huge frothy waves at our little boat and doing its best to overturn us. Vinod and his fishermen are unperturbed. �Kane is in season throughout the year,� he tells me, �but it is best had in the monsoon. The fishing�s good. And the choppy waters prevent the fish from swimming out to deep sea.�

Although the best Kane is caught in the waters around Mangalore, the fish is also sourced at Coondapur, 70 km from the city, and Malpe, which is 90 km away. Some 2,000 fishing boats in Mangalore cast their nets each night in the area of the confluence, hoping to haul them up next morning and find a big catch of Kane. �Sometimes we get 200 fish, sometimes only two, it all depends,� says Vinod, explaining the gamble of the business. �Of course, there is a lot of other fish to be found in these waters, but Kane is the main business, the big league.� While he is talking, his fishermen are dropping a fine nylon net into the sea, marking where it is with small plastic buoys made of postman oil jerrycans. We ride the waves in this fashion, spreading the net over a few hundred nautical metres, then head for a sand bar in the middle of the sea to wait. Vinod tells me more about the Kane. I believe it is Mangalore�s tastiest fish. And one good reason for this is that the Kane is a meat-eater. I am mystified. Vinod explains, �It is not a vegetarian fish like the pomfret. The Kane lives on other fish. It is like the piranha. And it�s own diet later makes it extremely succulent to the gourmet.� Apparently Mangalore is full of gourmets, because everybody there seems to like the Kane, though there are some who say the best Kane comes from outside the city, say from places like Karwar. It is a beautiful, silvery fish, probably that�s why it is also called Ladyfish, and a delight to cook. Kane is small and round, it has one central bone, and can be cleaned and cut effortlessly. The fish is best had when it grows to about 150 gm., though Vinod mentions one catch that had Kane weighing 400 gm. as well.

Less than an hour later, when I am fed-up of waiting on the sand bar, we head back to the confluence where the fishing nets had been cast for the Kane. The spot is truly amazing. To the left and right of our fishing boat, where I could see Mangalore city not far away, the rivers flow down calmly; while behind us, the Arabian Sea rages impotently, straining and heaving to get at the small boat. Vinod�s fishermen are hauling up the net briskly with cries of excitement each time a Kane comes gasping into their hands, and I realise that it is extremely strenuous and hard work. At the end of 15 minutes, the nets are in the boat, and Vinod had his hands full of wriggling Kane. I counted a dozen. Which meant, Rs. 300 for two hours of dangerous, disappointing, back-breaking work. Vinod has a bit of advice: �Now that you�ve seen how difficult this business is, promise you won�t haggle for a bargain next time you go to buy fish.�


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