Friends fishing in Lebanon

Vahe H. Apelian 

Recently three friends -  two of whom I have gotten to befriend on line, although Bedros and I are graduates of the Armenian Evangelical College high school  but a few years apart - posted pictures of the fish they caught off the Beirut coast. It evoked a lot of memories in me for I am an avid fisherman since my days in Lebanon.  Fishing is a national and a natural pastime in Lebanon. It was not uncommon to see people angling off main highways or roads in the greater Beirut. What triggered me to reflective is the type of fish they had caught, especially that one of them Simon Constantinian appears to mostly do spear fishing. I have done that too.

Recently my pharmacist friend Krikor Kradjian had gone for a fishing trip with a friend on a boat. He had posted picture of the fish they had caught (posted above). Those from Lebanon immediately recognized that among the fish they had caught was the prized culinary fish, known as Sultan Ibrahim. They are the reddish colored fish. Hagop Toroyan had commented on the picture noting that the “red mullets are exceptional”. Indeed, they are. It evokes memories in me as well. Jbeil or Byblos, some 25 miles north of Beirut, was a rather dormant town in my days, some four decades ago. It boasts a cozy small historic fishing harbor. Next to the harbor there was / is a restaurant that served Sultan Ibrahim. A delicacy no one visiting Lebanon should miss tasting, especially seated in a restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean’s Sea.

Sultan Ibrahim is mostly caught farther from the coast, as Krikor and his friend did on his friend’s a boat, further from the coast. Wikipedia noted the following about Sultan Ibrahim fish, “Red Mullet in English. One of the most delicious fish in the sea. Called the “Woodcock of the Sea” as gourmets traditionally ate the fish whole.” I do not know how Krikor and his friend ate the fish they caught, but as Sona Armenian had commented “Sahtein”. It is an Arabic word that has made inroads in the Lebanese Armenian conversational language. Wikipedia sums it this way: “The Arabic word “sahtein”, or “to-health,” is used at meal times to wish someone good eating, to which the. eater replies “ala-albeck” or “to your heart.”

Bedros Logikian had posted his recent catch (see above). I immediately recognized it. We knew the fish as Mosta, although I am not sure if that is its official designation. They are caught immediately off the coast. They are ferocious, aggressive fish for their own good. They do not seem to have a discretionary taste. Almost any edible bait attracts them. They are maybe the easiest fish to catch and are abundant. There probably is no fisherman in Lebanon who has not caught them. Almost everyone who takes fishing as a hobby in Lebanon had started by first catching Mosta.  The most they seem to grow is palm size. But the fisherman has to be very careful in removing Mosta from the hook. Their spikes are extremely hurtful. Naturally they protrude their spikes when baited. Removing them from the hook becomes a challenge to the fisherman. 

Simon Costantinian has taken spear fishing for a hobby. It was not an uncommon fishing hobby, especially back then when there were patches along the Mediterranean coast that we could use for free. Many paying beaches along the coast were known as Saint this or that. In popular parlance these free patches along the coast came to be known as “saint balaash”. Balaash is a common Levantine Arabic word that means free or no coast or minimal coast. That too had made inroads in the colloquial conversation of the Lebanese Armenians.

But Simon has taken spear fishing on a different level. Doing it at night. I have done that too. Armed with a rubber flashlight in one hand and the spear gun in the other hand, you start exploring the crevices of the rocks and caves underneath the Mediterranean Sea, along the coast. When the light is flashed into the crevices, the fish among the rocks seem to be caught off guard and remain still within the beam making for easy spearing than during the day.  But that hobby is not for the faint hearted. In the pitch darkness of the night, with the lights of the city glittering far on the coast, the spear fisherman is on his own farther from the coast into the dark sea. After a few tries I gave up on that sport and I do not think I spear fished any. I had to dive deeper and a venture farther from the coast. But my friend did spear fish.

As I pen this blog the allmighty dollar trades for almost 100,000 Lebanese Liras. The country is in despair and almost pitch dark. For all practical purposes it is a failed state. Public utilities are provided for a few hours a day, if that. The president’s seat remains vacant. The government is a care taker government. The Armenian community is much less than what it was. The demography of Bourj Hammoud, which my late friend Hratch Bedoyan would liken it as the Armenian Diaspora citadel, I am told, is very much changed. Many of its neighborhood Armenian schools have closed.

 But life in Lebanon goes on. After all, by hook or crook, life has to go on.