A LITTLE before sundown, there is a great deal of activity in and around Fort Cochin and especially near Vasco da Gama Square, where the fishermen of the island gather to give the gawking tourists the show of their life. They are, incidentally, also about to earn their livelihoods. It is high tide in the harbour. And the scene of action is the mouth of the harbour where the huge cantilevered Chinese fishing nets that are the landmark of the Malabar coast hover above the sea like giant dragonflies.

These nets, which are a most ingenious and cost-effective way of fishing, were introduced to Kerala around 1350 AD by traders from the Court of Kublai Khan in China. The nets are set up on teak wood and bamboo poles and during the day, idly filter the water. At high tide in the evening, they come alive.

A team of fishermen gently lower the nets into the sea by sending one man to walk along the main frame until the nets are submerged. A short while later, using big stones in a pulley system strung up in trees that weigh down the contraption and counter-balance it from the rear end, they haul the nets up again. Another team of fishermen is waiting on the bamboo frame for the net to clear the sea. Leaning out dangerously with scoops in their hands, they pick up the catch of the day � which is whatever fish has come into the net when it is dipped in and out of the sea.

The net often brings up refuse from the deep as well. This is cast aside and the fish is emptied into a plastic tank to flip-flop while seafood lovers come and select their dinner for the night. The show is over. The tourists put away their cameras and move further up Fort Cochin beach where another sight awaits them. It is the arrival of fishing boats from the harbour with Jewish names like Ebenezer and Moplah ones like Musthafa.

These are deep sea trawlers that come back with richer and bigger hauls. Pearlspot, red snapper, black pomfret, mallet crabs, lobster, prawns of all sizes. The fish is emptied out of the boats onto the beach and an instant and fierce auction is carried out of the catch. The bidders are all enterprising restaurateurs and fishermongers who have set up shacks along the beach. The man with the highest bid walks away with his fish. He does not have to walk far. His shack is just a few feet away. It could either be a restaurant or a small fish shop.

Either way, the fish that lands up on this beach does not ever go to anybody�s house for consumption. It is cooked and sold on the beach itself. The restaurateurs set up tables and chairs on the beach. Diners select their fish from a display on ice. It is barbecued and served to them in minutes in simple but tasty Kerala seafood preparations. Or the fish, and especially the prawns, is swiftly marinated in a red chilli paste and deep-fried in coconut oil.

Some shacks run a service that is between the fish shop and restaurant. �You buy, We Cook, Grill, Boil, Fry and Roast,� reads a notice outside these establishments. You make your purchase from any of the fish shops along the beach and get it cooked by them. The service charge for frying your fish is Rs. 25 a kilo, minimum charge Rs. 15. Is there a better way of eating fish? Not unless you don�t count the brisk business being conducted on the beach where plastic chairs around red-and-white chequered tables are being occupied by hungry families of seafood lovers clamouring for the prawn and the crab they have just seen coming up in the Chinese fishing nets.