Fishing in Senegal

The sunrise this morning was just as beautiful as the previous mornings here, but hazier, and perhaps unsurprisingly I was more restrained in the number of photos I took!

Several birds again joined us at breakfast, including a Village Weaver and some Common Bulbuls.

Palmarin

Today we were heading towards the coast again but this time a bit to the south of Joel-Fadiouth where we were yesterday. Our main destination was the fishing village of Djiffer, but we made a few stops for photos on the way. Not far from Fimela we drove across an area where locals gaze their cattle which are of the distinctive West African N'Dama breed.

On a tree here I spotted, and managed to photograph, this Senegal Coucal, a bird from the cuckoo family.

Our route took us across the extensive salt flats of the Palmarin region, known here as tanne, a French corruption of the local Wolof word tan, which means ‘an extent of saline lands’.

These salt flats have a wild beauty, especially if you are drawn to wide open skies as I am. They are great for spotting birds too. We saw flamingos, pelicans, various gulls, terms, an osprey and several I couldn't identify. We also saw a fox trotting across the sand.

Fox

Flamingos and gulls

Very little grows here, because of the salt content of the soil, and in the rainy season the sea can sometimes cover much of this land.

A little further south, on the fringes of the flats we saw an area where salt is collected. The local women dig shallow pools and extract the salt, which is then left to dry in covered mounds or on wooden platforms in little huts, known as greniers (even though they are contain no grain!), to protect it from the rains. Senegal is the largest salt producer in west Africa, producing over 450,000 tonnes every year, much of it through small-scale operations such as these. Here and elsewhere in the country we saw sacks of it waiting by the roadside for collection (much as English farmers leave milk churns).

Diakhanor

We stopped briefly at a simple coastal hotel, whose owners were friends of Cheikh, so that we could use the ‘facilities’ and get a cold drink.

Just north of Djiffer we stopped again in the small village of Diakhanor. Like Fadiouth, which we had visited the previous day, this village is unusual among Senegalese communities in being 90% Catholic and just 10% Muslim. Cheikh is a Muslim, and had married a Catholic girl from this village. He was keen to introduce us to her parents, his in-laws. He showed us inside their simple home, from which he and his wife were married, and we met some of the neighbours too.

Like others we met in Senegal, Cheikh was proud of the fact that the two religions co-exist peacefully here. Mixed marriages such as his own are not uncommon, and the two faiths celebrate each other's festivals. I asked about the religious upbringing of his three children and learned that the two boys are Muslim and his daughter a Catholic. He also said that his sister had like him married a Catholic and, unlike him, had converted. It all seemed very easy-going and flexible - long may it continue thus.

Djiffer

Djiffer lies at the southern tip of a spit of land that separates the sea from the waters of the Saloum. Its narrow strip of houses is squeezed between the waters of the Atlantic to the west and the lagoons of the Sine Saloum delta to the east.

It is a major fishing village for this region and the activity relating to this is the main (possibly only?) draw for tourists. By the time we arrived it was late morning, and the many colourful boats were all drawn up in front of the beach, anchored by rope to large tires or tree trunks. Each was surrounded by a throng of men waist-deep in water, heaving crates of fish on to their shoulders to be brought ashore. Cheikh explained that they were paid ‘in kind’ - for each nine crates that they brought ashore they would be given a tenth and could sell its contents themselves.

On the shore small market areas (little more than stone shelters) provide the focal point for the buying and selling that follows each landing. Some of the best fish are bought by hotels and restaurants, the remainder of the best go for export. The less good and the smaller fish are sold to locals.

Standing here we could clearly see the challenge Djiffer faces due to its location on this narrow spit of land. The Atlantic Ocean to the west is continually nibbling at its sandy shores in an effort to meet up with the waters of the Saloum. Cheikh pointed out trees that were once on dry land, were now on the beach and would soon be in the sea. People living here are doing so on borrowed time.

In another area of the village, just to the south of where the fish are landed, are the fish-drying tables. Shark, conch, sea snails, cat-fish, and many more are laid out here to dry in the hot sun before being packed for transport all over Senegal and abroad. Much of the fish is also salted before drying, to help with the preservation process.

We met a Ghanaian man stuffing large, almost rigid slabs of shark meat into sacks to be sent to his native country, and he explained how they cook it – cut into pieces, soaked in water for at least an hour (but preferably overnight) to remove the salt, then stewed with tomatoes and onions.

This was a fascinating place to visit but the smell in this fish-drying area was pungent. I like fish but could only take a little of it, and Chris who doesn’t much care for fish found it really pretty unpleasant!

Back at the lodge

Leaving Djiffer we drove back across the salt flats (without stopping this time) and were back at Souimanga Lodge by mid-afternoon.

There was plenty of time for a swim, and more bird-watching from our little hide.

And of course as always at Souimanga the day finished with a candle-lit dinner on the decking among the trees, overlooking the lagoon.