Il-Baħar Rasu Iebsa
Author: Lino Psaila
Publisher: Klabb Kotba Maltin / 1996
Pages: 227pp
I happened to come across this book recently and it proved to be a surprise although I am not a fan of the sea and have limited relations with the areas described.
The author hails from Żejtun, where I am living at present, and fittingly begins his description from people he knows from Żejtun and their battles with the sea, even though Żejtun is quite far from the sea. At most, the people of those times would have a garage either at St Thomas Bay, which was called by the people of Żejtun as Ir-Ramla, ie the bay of Żejtun.
Later on the fishermen from Żejtun moved to Marsaxlokk and the second half of the book deals almost exclusively with people from Marsaxlokk, then and now known as the harbour of fishermen.
The book's title refers to a well-known Maltese saying "Il-baħar żaqqu ratba ... u rasu iebsa" (The sea may seem soft but it can also be cruel). Predictably, it tells of man's long battle with the sea, in which many times man ends up the loser. There are times, however, when the sea does not win and when man's courage and ability end up winners.
The book is thus a catalogue of epic battles and real heroes, especially in the 19th and early 20th centuries before diesel engines were invented and when boats were not as big as they are today. In most cases in those times, fishing was done by boats manned by crews and rowing many times throughout the night.
For boats taking off from Marsaxlokk the first target used to be just opposite, Delimara, beyond which lay the open sea and Filfla. This was happy hunting ground and good for fishing. But that depended on the weather and the sea. The fishermen thus had to watch closely the clouds, the currents etc.
In the Maltese context there are two main currents - Grigal and Xlokk - and these can come upon the fishermen almost suddenly, which is why watching the clouds and the weather was paramount. They had to rely on muscle power and on the distance from land. Beyond that, they had to rely on prayer only.
The book contains 39 stories of heroism of which only a few ended badly. It also includes a large amount of nicknames - eg Ix-Xgħajri, il-Ħawħa, il-Bikku, il-Mundulier, Stejxen, tax-Xieref etc. In the Maltese context, nicknames are crucially important - they connect families together far more than common surnames. And knowing contemporaries with the same nickname traces family links far more than any other means.
One other intriguing characteristic of this book is its use of the Żejtun dialect which gives the book a more realistic touch.
But the most unforgettable pages in it are the stories of heroism it tells. And not all were Maltese - the story it begins with tells of Padrun Kadanja, a half Sicilian who worked to get tuna from Sicily to Malta. A hero who is still remembered and honoured even though no street has been named in his honour.