Over The Rainbow: A Chance Encounter Opens A New World On Plage Ouakam

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Photos (top to bottom): photo1: a green lobster tail; photo2: Plage Ouakam; photo3: the GIE Ouakam Peche processing factory building; photo4-6: tanks circulated with seawater for storage of lobster.

On my many recent trips to Plage Ouakam, I have on several occasions been engaged by locals inquiring into what I was doing, curious about the camera housing. Yesterday was one of those times. When the curious young diver discovered my language deficiency, he had the presence of mind to call for Ms. Frederique Corneloup, an English-fluent French woman working on the plage.

It was a fortuitous meeting.

We sat in the shade for a time, and chatted over a cup of cafe Touba. Frederique explained that she has been working with a business on the plage that is exporting fish, lobster and abalone, purchased from local fishermen, taken from local waters.

I had a half hour earlier spotted my first lobster, a small one, beneath a rock a hundred meters from shore.

Turn back the clock to about a year ago when Randi and I were returning from a visit to Ile de N'Gor, and on the beach were drawn to several large buckets full of what looked like abalone. Abalone in West Africa? Impossible. But they sure looked like abalone, though all of relatively small size.

Frederique confirmed that there are, in fact, a species of abalone living locally, as well as green lobster, located more to the south end of the peninsula, around Cap Manuel. The little company she was promoting, located right on the plage, in a building I've passed a dozen times, was exporting hundreds of kilos of lobsters and abalone to markets in Europe, Asia, and South Africa.

Frederique was exceptionally welcoming, and guided me through the processing facility. She encouraged my active participation both in the business, and the plage generally. I was always welcome, she said. There was a shower inside that I could use, if I liked.

Randi and I met with Frederique again this morning, received the grand tour of the plage, and were introduced to and welcomed by many. We share a love of the sea, that is clear, and a familiarity with all things marine. I would no longer remain a local curiosity. I have lost my anonymity.

Five hundred doors immediately swung open.

I met the secretary of the local fishermen's association. We talked sharks. He explained that hammerheads congregate in schools off Pt. Almadies, returning with the cold upwelling (along with a bunch of other species, including grouper and tuna). He offered to take me out to see and film them. He has plans to create a sanctuary around the cove, closed to all fishing, marked with rock piles and buoys, to protect the juvenile fish stocks living in the inshore waters. I offered to assist by filming the operation, and he responded with a bear hug, declaring that I was sent by God.

We dined at Abdulye's Modern Restaurant, had Nescafe and an egg sandwich, very tasty, very convivial.

I have inherited one hundred Wolof teachers.

My cultural bubble? I kind of like my cultural bubble . . . I like my privacy, my anonymity, the familiarity and protection it affords . . .

I may have to rethink those Wolof lessons . . .

Of tremendous potential significance to the local community (and my students) is the layer of shells and ceramics I discovered last week, and investigated in greater detail today. This historical/archaeological layer runs along the base of a hard-pack rise immediately above the beach, likely revealed by the heavy rains we've had this summer. A student-led excavation of a limited section is quite possible, though I would obviously need local permission, and endorsement by the IFAN/Archaeology Lab and its director Ibrahima Thiou.

Wow. Mind racing.

Ironic, isn't it? A robbery on Thursday, and the discovery of a treasure on the following weekend. Dorothy has landed in Oz.

Note video footage of the plage and the GIE saltwater tanks here.