Under the shadow of Israeli warships, Gaza’s fishermen risk everything at sea to keep their families alive

Gaza’s coast is no longer calm, even on its most peaceful days. Its waves, once filled with the laughter of family outings, now crash against the rubble of destroyed ports and shattered boats. They are silent witnesses to a war that has never been confined to land. For fishermen here, going to sea is no longer just a job — it is a daily risk to life.

In this city, besieged from all sides, the sea remains one of the few partially open outlets. Yet it has not been spared from air strikes, naval blockades, or direct targeting. Even under the ceasefire, Gaza’s fishermen set out knowing they may not return, driven by the urgent need to secure one of the last remaining sources of food and to rebuild their lives from the rubble.

The vulnerability of the coastline reflects the wider destruction across Gaza. During Israel’s two-year genocide in the Strip, coastal infrastructure suffered extensive damage: small harbours, fishing nets, boat engines, and fish markets were either directly destroyed or severely affected. This devastation robbed fishermen not only of their tools but also of the sense of stability that once underpinned their livelihoods.

Mahmoud Abu Mahadi, 27, from Al Shati Camp in West Gaza, lost his boat during the genocide. Today, he shares a single vessel with three other fishermen, splitting fuel, danger, and whatever catch the sea may provide.

“A boat is your life. When your boat is destroyed, you do not need a death certificate; you are economically dead,” he tells The New Arab.

Despite Israel’s talk of a ‘post-war phase', fishermen say the targeting of themselves and their boats has not stopped. They describe being chased, fired upon with warning shots, and having equipment confiscated by Israeli forces. The permitted distance for fishing changes without warning, with warships often lingering nearby.

Iyad Shaheen, a father of five from North Gaza, used to work in a factory that was destroyed during the war. His family’s farmland is no longer arable. With few alternatives, he has turned to fishing, even under constant threat from Israeli naval patrols.

“The ceasefire was only on paper; at sea, nothing has changed. We go out knowing we are being watched closely,” he says.

Fishing for survival

Today, fish is no longer seen as a seasonal dish or luxury. With the destruction of Gaza’s markets, disruption of supply chains and the soaring price of meat and chicken, fish has become the final source of animal protein.

Dr Iman Al Saba, an obstetrician at Al Shifa Medical Complex in North Gaza, explains: “We have noticed a clear deterioration in the nutritional status of pregnant women and children, particularly due to the lack of protein. Many women suffer from anaemia, and with red meat scarce and expensive, fish has become essential for maintaining basic health.”

Gaza’s coastline stretches roughly 40km, yet Palestinian fishermen are restricted to a narrow area just a few kilometres long because of the long-standing Israeli naval blockade. These restrictions make fishing hazardous, forcing reliance on black-market fuel and nets.

Local fishermen say that more than half of Gaza’s boats were destroyed in the most recent war. With port facilities damaged, over 70% of fishermen now borrow boats or fish directly from the shore.

Thousands of young men, left jobless after universities, workshops, and shops were destroyed, have also taken up fishing. Unlike other livelihoods, fishing requires little capital, even if it carries enormous risks.

Ahmed Kurdia, 22, a former engineering student, sometimes borrows a boat to fish; at other times, he works from the shore. His catch is often barely enough to feed his family, yet he sees it as better than returning empty-handed.

“I used to make plans for my future,” he says. “Now I plan short fishing trips and make sure I come back quickly before anything happens to me.”

Nets in the line of fire

For many, even the shore offers no safety. Rising fuel costs and destroyed boats have forced them into fully exposed areas, vulnerable to attack.

Salim Al Najjar, 41, from Khan Younis, lost his boat during the war. “At least the boat can move,” he says. “The shore is completely exposed. But what can we do? We have no other option.”

Although men dominate fishing in Gaza, women play a crucial role. They clean, dry, and sell fish, or barter it for other food supplies. Umm Mohammed Al Assi, whose husband was killed at the start of the war, took up fishing to support her family.

“After he was killed, I learned how to handle fish,” says Umm Mohammed, “and this is my livelihood now,” providing her with income and a degree of independence from food aid.

'We aren't asking for much'

Without doubt, the constant danger and daily anxiety have left a psychological mark on fishermen and their communities.

Dr Al Saba observes: “We have seen more men in their twenties and thirties suffering from sleep disorders, depression, and stress-related pain. Constant fear leaves its mark not just on the mind but also on the body.”

Despite the risks, Gaza’s men continue to fish. Not out of heroism, but because the alternative is starvation. In Gaza, fishing is more than a profession — it is an act of resilience, a struggle against poverty, unemployment, and erasure.

The sea bears witness to everything: boats that never return, young men who vanish, and fish that have become not just a resource, but a means of survival.

In a city under siege by land, air, and sea, Gaza’s fishermen keep setting out — not for abundance, but simply for another day of life, and a morsel of food salvaged from the waves and destruction.

“We aren’t asking for much,” says Mahmoud Abu Mahadi. “We just want enough to live.”

Haya Ahmed is a doctor and freelance writer from Gaza