Tides of change: One last look at Senoko Fishery Port

Located in Woodlands, Senoko Fishery Port is set to close by the end of March after 26 years, with its merchants moving to Singapore’s only other fishery port in Jurong. The Straits Times documents the last days of this facility, which once served as the home port of local fishing vessels.

By SHINTARO TAY | Published: MARCH 13, 2024

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As fish are poured out of a container, Mr Chia Jim Hiang and other fishmongers rush to snap up their freshest picks at Senoko Fishery Port every morning.

“This is so fun!” the 75-year-old says in Mandarin with a smile. “But I’m old now so it’s not easy to compete with younger fishmongers.”

Six nights a week, workers start to stream in at 11pm. By 2am, the wholesale seafood market comes alive as fish merchants trade with their customers, while shipments arrive until 5am.

Come March 17, the smell of seafood and saltwater mingled with shouts and chatter will fill the air one last time, before the merchants and their workers relocate to Jurong Fishery Port the next day.

After the Senoko port shuts on March 31, the 3.24ha site – the size of 4½ football fields – will be returned to the state. Its future use is not known.

The port began operating in 1997 as a purpose-built home base for Singapore’s fishing fleet.

Fishermen would spend about five days in a trawler along the South China Sea, and bring back 2,000kg to 5,000kg of fish to the Senoko jetty to sell. ST FILE PHOTO: CHEW SENG KIM

Cramped in a small bunk for four just above the engine room, tired workers would nap amid the loud engine noise. ST FILE PHOTO: CHEW SENG KIM

However, the last fishing boats were sold off three years ago as they were not lucrative anymore.

In 1997, Senoko’s 180m-long jetty used to see between 100 and 200 local fishing vessels dropping off their catches. However, the last trawlers to operate there were sold off three years ago.

Now, only fresh catch from foreign vessels is dropped off at Jurong Fishery Port and taken to Senoko by lorry.

Fish merchant Ong Eng Boon, 58, getting a good stretch just before 3am on March 8 while waiting for the day’s seafood catch.

Many of the fish merchants are Teochew and began their trade at the decades-old market in Kangkar, a village at the end of Upper Serangoon Road. In 1984, they shifted to Punggol Fishing Port, where they operated until 1997. They then moved to Senoko to make way for the development of Punggol New Town.

A man sitting outside a row of cold rooms, where fish merchants store their frozen seafood. The Senoko incineration plant can be seen in the background.

There are currently 25 merchants at Senoko Fishery Port.

Workers sorting out prawns along the common area at Senoko Fishery Port.

A worker preparing stingrays for sale by slicing them into smaller pieces.

Fish merchant Tan Yew Meng (below), 64, says: “When we started here, there were a lot more people, but slowly they became fewer. Some got older and retired, and the young didn’t want to carry on the business.”

For those who remain in the trade, it is the camaraderie that they treasure.

A fish seller playfully sneaking behind another seller to pick up a fish from the basket.

“Everyone helps each other. Sometimes, if I don’t have something, I’ll buy from my neighbours and they will buy from me. It’s these kinds of things that make you feel comfortable,” says Mr Daniel Pe, 44, chairman of the Punggol Fish Merchants Association and a second-generation fish merchant.

Mr Daniel Pe watching as his workers packaged orders before delivering them to various clients around Singapore.

“I would say we are a family and it’s a very homely little community.”

Fish merchants and workers chatting over fried fish prepared in Johor Bahru by a worker of fish merchant Gavin Chua (in white).

While waiting for fresh shipments to arrive, fishmongers and merchants would mingle at a makeshift rest station with a coffee dispenser and biscuits.

“This is a little something to serve the people. If they enjoy it, then they will pay up. It’s nothing much, but if everyone can enjoy it, then it’s good,” says 72-year-old Phillip Yap, who manages Xin Hai Soon Fish Merchant.

Workers unloading a fresh catch while fish merchants took a coffee break.

As they count down to the final days at Senoko, many fish merchants have mixed feelings about the move.

Fishmongers rushing to pick the freshest seafood at a stall at Senoko Fishery Port at 3.30am on March 9. The facility serves mainly stallholders operating in wet markets in the north and east of Singapore.

It will take an additional hour of travelling for the merchants who live near Senoko, but some say that there is a bigger pool of buyers at Jurong Fishery Port.

A worker coming out of a cold room, which is used to store frozen food.

Four merchants have decided not to move over to Jurong. 17 merchants will move to the new annex in Jurong that has been built to accommodate them, while the remaining four merchants will join the main market, where there are more than 100 other merchants.

“We have to see how it will be like. It should be better than here because there aren’t a lot of people here and it’s very quiet,” says Mr Tan.

Two workers loading empty containers into a lorry in preparation for a new load of fish.

Madam Annie Lee, 60, who runs Hai Soon Hai Lak, says: “I will miss this place because we are familiar with how things are, and I don’t know how the crowd will be like there... so we will try to survive.”

Madam Annie Lee watching as her worker prepared fish for sale.

Mr Pe adds: “Maybe we are too comfortable with this place... people are reluctant to change. So of course they don’t feel good about travelling further and facing more competition, so we’ve got to help each other.”

Mr Low Swee Hua (in blue), 64, cutting a fish, while two workers prepared the fish for packaging.

For Mr Davidson Goh, 51, he will lose some of his workers.

“Jurong is too far for them, so some don’t want to work any more. I have to find new manpower,” says the third-generation owner of Lian Yak Fish Merchant.

A worker sorting out paper labels that indicate the types of fish displayed at Lian Yak Fish Merchant.

There is also uncertainty among some regular customers, like Mr Chia, who has been a fishmonger since the 1970s. He has been buying his daily supply from the merchants since they were at Kangkar village.

Mr Chia Jim Hiang loading fish before driving to his fish stall at Ang Mo Kio Avenue 10.

The 75-year-old taking a break from selecting fish.

“It’s almost time for me to retire, I’m not sure if I want to continue after the move, so I am still thinking about it,” says Mr Chia.

Eighteen-year-old student Vin Moorthy, who visited the wholesale market with his parents, who have been regulars for two decades, says: “I’m a little sad because it’s a part of my childhood.”

18-year-old student Vin Moorthy (in black) standing next to his parents Suganya and Sathia Moorthy. The family bought sea bass, crabs and prawns to cook curry.

It is not only the fish merchants and their workers who will move out.

Fish merchant Chris Yap and his accountant Tan Shee Shan discussing the day’s sales figures in the office of Hai Yun Fishery, one of many office units on the second floor of Senoko Fishery Port, after the early morning rush.

An altar of the sea goddess Mazu, where they have prayed for years, will accompany them.

Fish merchant Phillip Yap, 72, offering joss sticks at the altar of sea goddess Mazu, where fishermen used to pray for safety in the seas and a good catch.

“In the past, the fishermen would come to the Mazu altar near the jetty to pray for safety in the seas and a good catch,” says Mr Yap.

“This is a tradition from the old Kangkar village to Punggol and then to here, so we appealed to bring it to Jurong Fishery Port.”

Worker Low Swee Hua, 64, unwinding after the end of a long day at work in the now-defunct canteen, which was closed down as it was not profitable to run.