Vintange fishing (EN)

I've ve been planning a trip to Jantar, located by the Bay of Gdańsk, for some time. Before I set off to this part of Poland, I expected to admire the beautiful landscapes of the Bay of Gdańsk, the Vistula Lagoon, the Vistula Spit and visited charming, well-known tourist destinations such as Jantar, Stegna, Kąty Rybackie and Krynica Morska. I thought I would get to know the flavors of local culinary specialties in which of course sea fish dishes dominate. I thought that I would spend my free time on leisurely walks along the coast, varied at most by the characteristic "laughter" of seagulls and the sound of waves. Reality completely surprised me.

First day. I'm reaching to Jantar. I'm not surprised by the appearance of this coastal village. The main street are looking like a typical tourist destination – small souvenir shops, pubs and guest houses with rooms for rent. I'm looking for a room and moving into the area. Today is last day of summer holidays - there are few tourists, individual people are walking or coming back from the beach.

A week ago there were a lot of people here. I specially chose the date of September for this trip to avoid the hustle and crowds of tourists. When I'm reaching to the beach, I'm seeing a typical seaside landscape - the beach, water to the horizon, ubiquitous gulls and terns. However, something completely different catchesing my attention. Near the passage through the dunes, which I came to the sea, I'm seeing a series of wooden crypts lying on the sand and next to them fishing nets stretched across the beach. The latter are equipped with special poles - buoys with flags fluttering in the wind in various colors. My guess is that each color is a different owner. The equipment looks a bit old-fashioned but functional. Interesting. I'm deciding that I will be back here in the morning - maybe I will come across fishermen while working.

Next day. It's 5am. Outside is gray morning and light raining. Despite the penetrating cooling, I'm going towards the sea. I'm warmly dressed. I'm carrying heavy backpack with a camera and lenses of various focal lengths - from wide-angle landscape for telephoto to close-up telephoto. Along the way, I'm passing a strange-looking guy riding an old, dilapidated bike. Rubber boots on his legs, and on his back there is something in the shape of a storm jacket more reminiscent of a badly cut sheet of an old military tent than a rain jacket. A wrinkled face emerging from the hood. I'm reminded of Santiago - the main character of Ernest Hemingway's novel "The old Man and the Sea". As it turns out later, the association is very apt. I'm reaching the beach. Unlike yesterday, when there was hardly anyone by the water, crowds of tourists are on beach now. People are surrounding one of the fishing boats. Inside boat, two fishermen, wearing rubber dungarees and gloves, selling fishes to customers of this makeshift fish shop. I'm thinking - "There's nothing like fresh fish straight from the sea." The queue melting quickly. There is little goods - at most for 30-40 customers. However, this isn't a problem. I'm seeing more boats with fish on sea.

I'm watching crypts floating on the waters of the Gdańsk Bay. The moment when the boats reach the shore and pull them ashore is interesting. The day before, I noticed that on the beaches lay steel ropes that stretch along its entire width and disappear in the depths of a small, concrete bunker located close to enter to the beach. Then I didn't interest in it. Now I'm seeing inside of the building – here is winch. Machine is working with loud clatter pulling in successive crypts with a steel rope. Walking on the beach I must watching on rope becouse stressing steel can hurt me.

I'm observing this unusual scenery - fishermen and their work. I'm realizing that this image has not changed for several decades. Wooden boats without cabins, powered by diesel engines, sail out into the sea every night, away from the shore for several kilometers. One of the fishermen, standing in the rear of the boat, maneuvering the crypt with the help of a hand-rear rudder and engine throttle. A second fisherman using a net. Everything is done manually - not like on modern boats on which this process is automated. Similarly the issue of pulling crypts ashore - today fishing boats usually moor in ports, no one is playing towing on the beach. I am impressed - I am aware that fishing methods are extremely rare. They are like a reconstruction of historical events played by a group of enthusiasts, but taking place really. Time stopped here 50 years ago.

Evening is coming. I'm in the small fishing village Piaski, a few kilometers from Jantar, very close to the border with Russia. There is something that makes this place stand out, something that makes it extremely charming. The beach stretches gently to the east, there seems to be no end. Warm light of the setting sun makes the whole scenery very plastic - I can see every hollow in the sand, the boats cast long shadows, there is no clouds in the blue sky. The place gives the impression of being at the end of the world and the only witnesses of the scenery are seagulls and terns circling in the sky. I like such climates.

I'm thinkig deeply. I have great respect for local fishermen who go fishing every night. I'm aware that this is hard, ungrateful work done with the help of primitive means - old wooden boats. I reminded a fisherman with a wrinkled face, whom I met in the morning. I think he is a symbol of this place. When I met him, he associated me with Santiago - the main character in Ernest Hemingway's novel "The old Man and the Sea". Santiago was a hard-working man of the sea. I'm thinking the local fishermen are similar. I'm dedicating this article to them.

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