Through Sepia-Tinted Spectacles: Alcúdia's cuttlefish fair

Sepia, in English, is the fluid secreted by cuttlefish. The word is more commonly associated with sepia tint, the brownish colour utilised by designers, film-makers and others to provide a nostalgic, clichéd effect that represents "old". Though the inky fluid itself might not be used any longer, it was this that first gave us sepia tint.

In Puerto Alcúdia, the Confraria de Pescadors (literally, the fishermen's brotherhood) has its own building. It is on the old pier in the port. In it, there are ancient photos, some of them with sepia tint. These photos have, on the occasion of past spring fairs in Puerto Alcúdia, formed exhibitions of the local fishing history. This year, the building and the Confraria will not be taking part in the spring fair.

Sepia, or sipia, depending on your linguistic preference, is Spanish and Catalan not only for the tint but also the cuttlefish itself. The sepia fair, combined with a nautical fair, has become an established, early-spring event in the port. The boat bit was spun out from the autumn fair in the old town as a way of addressing the fact that the port was missing out in not having its own fair. Locating it in the port also made greater sense. And so it was that when the idea for the boat fair was hit upon, they decided to invent another one to celebrate the local fishing industry, its heritage, its skills and its different major catches, of which sepia is one.

Devoting an entire fair to what for most Brits is something to do with keeping budgerigars happy and to what is like stuffing an inner tube into your mouth seemed, to this Brit anyway, a weird pretext for a celebration. Unless it is cut into small pieces, fried with herb and spice and served with rice and some mayo, cuttlefish is rotten, to the point of being inedible. But then who am I to deny a culinary tradition, even if it is no good?

The first sepia and boat fair in 2006 was a huge success. Blessed by perfect April weather, warm, blue skies brought out vast numbers of visitors in giving the port a pre-season boost. Terraces were jammed, so much so that some restaurants could barely cope with the demand.

Since 2006, the fair has hit some difficulties. The crowds still come, but there have been rumblings from some restaurants that they have been overlooked when it comes to participation, while others have moaned about demands placed upon them for paying for town hall promotion.

The boat fair has also not escaped some backlash. Though it is the island's largest outside of Palma, it is small by comparison. Some nautical-related businesses in Alcúdia itself, those situated close by in the Alcudiamar marina, have ceased to have their own stands, either on the grounds of cost or because they can't afford to have personnel at both a stand and at their units in the marina. The most popular stands during the weekend event are not those with boats, jet-skis and the like, but the craft stalls of the market that was a later addition to the fair's mix.

There is now a further difficulty. The Confraria, the fishermen themselves, are going to withdraw their support and participation. While the sepia fair was partly intended to be a celebration of the fishermen's work and of their cuttlefish catch, this hasn't proven to be the case. Restaurants, rather than buying their sepia from the local fishermen, get it from wholesalers at prices half or more than those that they have to pay the fishermen. It is for this reason that the fishermen are planning to down nets and take them home over the weekend of 9-10 April.

Alcúdia's mayor, Miguel Llompart, has been attempting to arbitrate in what has become a real old spat between the restaurant owners and the fishermen. He concedes that the negative responses from the fishermen in respect of, for example, lowering their prices a tad will mean that neither the Confraria building nor the old pier will be part of this year's fair. The pier is in fact loaned out for the event, and on it, were it once more to be made available, would be a marquee in which restaurants would sell tasters of sepia that has not been bought locally.

Though it seems perverse that the fair should not feature the local catch, one can have sympathy for the restaurant owners. Why should they pay up to 12 euros a kilo when they can get away with paying as little as four euros? An answer might be that they should be prepared to pay the higher rate; they do, after all, reap some benefit from the event and they are part of the same local economy as the fishermen. But needs and economic times must, you have to suppose.

Without the local catch, however, the whole event becomes a bit of a charade. The sepia angle becomes a commercial excuse rather than a cultural justification. The fair, when it started, was a very good idea, but the best of ideas can become mired in local battles. And so, in years to come, there will be photos of the first, glorious spectacle, a reminder of what it once was, tinted with sepia.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.