Would you for one moment imagine the red double-deckers or the black London taxis no longer passing through the roads of the English capital, or the black gondolas no longer plying the narrow Venetian canals, or the rickshaws no longer dashing through the crowded Asian streets? Equally, can you imagine what feeling one might get from no longer delighting in taking in the iconic scene of our luzzus slowly riding on the crests of waves along our coastal waters? Well, apparently, we are not far from witnessing such a mournful event.

Many have been abandoned, left to decay, or destroyed. The main reason, apparently, was the fact that the luzzu and other traditional Maltese fishing boats are today considered impractical for commercial fishing, with the wood needing expensive maintenance. Indeed, according to the Malta Traditional Boats Association, the luzzu and other Maltese fishing boats will be a thing of the past in 30 years' time, surviving only on postcards. Today, for example, lateen sails have disappeared from Maltese waters, and what was once largely associated with our country is just a thing of the past. Fortunately, there are still a few luzzus around the islands that might be worth restoring and making viable again. The abovementioned Association has taken the praiseworthy initiative to promote and save the luzzu and other traditional Maltese fishing boats. Furthermore, both Heritage Malta and the Culture Ministry have come around to recognising the inherent cultural and historical value of the luzzu and other derivative Maltese fishing boats such as the ferilla, dgħajsa tal-Latini, kajjik, and frejgatina. It is worth noting that all these types of seacraft were traditionally built and engraved with the technique of a master.

So what needs to be done next before it is too late to save, at least, our luzzu? We have had instances not long ago when the Cleansing and Maintenance Division, in their drive to remove bulky objects left lying around in our streets, laudable as it was, ended up also removing and destroying a good number of abandoned luzzus that were still in a condition that could be restored to their pristine state. That notwithstanding, there are other luzzu owners who have abandoned their boats since they consider them not worth repairing or restoring. So why not enact a law that prevents a luzzu from being chopped up and sold in pieces? Or why not extend the current maintenance schemes available for traditional boats owned by full-time fishermen to part-time or amateur fishermen and also to any other remaining luzzu owner?

In a growing technology-driven and industrialised world, people are increasingly forgetting traditional crafts and moving towards new innovations. Preserving and protecting the skills and knowledge of traditional crafts is a growing challenge. So, it is high time that art forms are revived and awareness spreads about them in urban spaces. Let us move towards a country where handcrafted items are given due respect and the artisans also get the recognition they deserve for their skills. I am passionate about preserving traditional crafts, including the making of a typical luzzu. By that, I mean skills that have been going on for hundreds of years and are now in danger of being lost (if they have not already disappeared). I am convinced that there is wealth, health, and a depth of contentment in the old ways that are being pushed aside to make way for modernity. I do think someone needs to be responsible for holding the proverbial baby while the water is being thrown out. This is where the Malta College of Arts, Science, and Technology, the University of Malta, and Heritage Malta can come together and somehow set up a specialised course whereby our traditional boatbuilding can be revived. The necessary interest is out there somehow.

Early luzzus, equipped with oars and sails, were mainly used as transport vessels, but after they were motorised, they became popular as fishing boats. They are basically sturdy carvel-built boats with a double-ended hull and are usually brightly painted in shades of yellow, red, green, and blue, with the bow normally pointed with a pair of eyes referred to as the Eye of Horus or of Osiris that are said to protect the fishermen while at sea. Traditional rules come into play when choosing the colour palette for a luzzu since a specific colour might indicate from where its owner hails, be it St Paul's Bay, Msida, St Julian's, Marsaxlokk, Zurrieq, or Marsascala.

Our luzzus are beautiful when they are done well. They can be functional, not just pretty. The skills going into them are part of our national identity and culture, and the techniques can be transferred from generation to generation. If we somehow succeed in saving our luzzus craft, a renaissance can become a reality again, and the next generation can expect much from a profession that favours patience and precision over turning a fast profit. Nurturing a new generation of makers is essential for the proliferation of the luzzu, with a need for adequate training, support, and role models to encourage those with a desire to learn. More can be done to preserve yesterday's skills for tomorrow.

The luzzu is something that once had a role that went far beyond utility. It was a prized possession of someone who used it to embody memories, to mark the essential landmarks of life, and to show something about who he is. As he used it and lived with it, it marked the passing of time. Our luzzu is about connection-to nature, to the sea, to one's place, and to oneself. It is about connecting the past to the present while looking towards the future. A concerted effort to preserve our luzzu should be another vital link to our cultural, aesthetic, inspirational, and economic legacies-all of the things that quite literally make us who we are.

Dr Mark Said is a lawyer