Fishing Net Making

Meeting Khalil Deeb Jurban, born 1940, was made possible through his nephew Sami el-Ali, both living in Jisr al-Zarqa, Israel. Khalil learned the craft of fishing net making from his father, who tried to keep him away from the sea. He wanted him to stick to his schooling, but Khalil would peek over his father’s shoulder, absorb the netting techniques, and when his father went out fishing, Khalil would practice on his own. At the age of fifteen he made his very own first net.
In Jisr az-Zarqa, the craft of net making was traditionally carried out by the men of the family, although this varied from place to place. The handmade nets were made from blended cotton thread, which was thicker than the nylon thread commonly used today.

The craft was slow and time-consuming. A single person would take about 3 months to complete a fishing net measuring 2 meters high and 200 meters long. Yet one such net was sufficient for fishing from a small rowing boat. “The sea was like an orchard back the n,” Khalil says. “You would go in and pick as much as you wanted.” This is how he describes the abundance of fish in his childhood, in contrast to today’s reality, in which four to five nylon nets are loaded onto each boat in the hope of returning with an adequate catch.

To create uniform mesh openings, Khalil used a gauge made from a bamboo tube of the appropriate diameter. The choice of a hollow tube becomes clear when reaching the final row of the net: he first threads a string into the bamboo, with a knot in its end that holds it in place. The string then moves along with his hands as he progresses up the row, automatically threading itself through the last mesh openings while the final row is created. This technique is still in use today, as fishermen need to add a final row to the nylon nets they purchase, in order to attach lead weights along the bottom edge.
At one point, Khalil goes inside and returns with a box containing beautifully carved wooden netting needles* that he made in his youth. Some of the needles he created were given to his sons, who continue the tradition of net making, and one was given to Sami.

Sami holds this needle in high regard. He volunteers as the director of the local heritage center and is strongly committed to preserving the craft. When we met to learn about the craft, he continued to observe Khalil’s skilled hands. When we noticed that Khalil uses the little finger of his left hand to hold the thread in a way that lets him work much faster, Sami asked to try it himself. Khalil smiles and teases him about his slowness as he attempts to do it. Through the heritage center, Sami teaches children from his village the craft of fishing net making, ensuring it is not entirely forgotten. In addition, Sami serves as the Secretary General of the Fishermen’s Union in Israel.
 
* Unlike modern needles, which have a central inner pin that holds the twisting thread, the hand-carved wooden needle had an eye at each end, positioned perpendicular to one another, allowing for a continuous feed of thread.