
“Sea of Colourful Memories”
@ Aberdeen Fishing Dreams
Inspired by the seafaring traditions of the Southern District’s boat-dwelling community and the playful spirit of the classic television series “Telefishion”, “Sea of Colourful Memories” presents a selection of colourfully tinted dried seafood that carries authentic fisherfolk community stories within each element. Visitors can enjoy a dreamlike journey through multi-sensory experience, deepening their understanding of local seafaring life.
The installation by “Deep Food”, the creative collective, transforms traditional preserved seafood and collective memories into a contemporary visual language, reflecting on the shared stories and fishing heritage of the community. The team fosters cultural preservation and raises awareness of community identity in an innovative way.
This is one of the artworks of "Arts in the City: Our Southerly Days" curated by One Bite and commissioned by Hong Kong Art Development Council.


Aberdeen Harbour’s Shared Tastes
The storyteller says: On a small fishing boat, there was a child who loved to climb to the very top of the mast and look out at the sea from about ten meters up. In his eyes, the view from there was more moving than any luxury home’s sea view. Before him was nothing but deep blue, the sea on all sides.
Standing in that “one-foot VIP” spot, he was in charge of “spotting fish,” searching for and fixing his gaze on great dark masses of fishes larger than the boat. Those shadows were like clouds—expanding, contracting, gathering or scattering. When he found his target, he would skillfully make a hand signal to his sister on deck, and the boat would head toward where the shadows were. That was when his sister would “listen for fish”: if her hearing was sharp enough, she’d press her ear to the deck, and if the fishes were beneath the boat, she could hear their calls—the sound drawing nearer, like listening to the sea breathe. Then down go the lines, up come the lines, haul in, haul again, until the boat brimmed with the catch. Day after day, that’s how they made a living, feeding everyone aboard.
“In the old days when we boat-dwellers fished, the best of the catch always went to market. It was only when we grew up that we learned what the finest fish really tasted like.” As for soldierfish, mantis shrimp, crabs, and the like, they were often shared by nearby trawlers or sold on the cheap. That’s how the boat-dwellers community was: you lend me a hand, I’ll share some good things with you, and everyone enjoys the tastes of the sea together.

Foggy Days Are for Nourishment
The storyteller says: If you head out to sea every day, it’s impossible to expect fine weather every single day. The ocean won’t always obey. Sometimes the weather shifts faster than you’d ever imagine—one minute the sky is cloudless, and the next minute a violent squall blows up. Boat-dwellers have their own vocabulary, especially for weather that’s closely tied to going out to sea. That sudden “stone-lake strike” refers to a bout of wind with thunder and lightning—fierce in its onset and arriving without warning, powerful enough to capsize a boat. Or you might be sailing along and find the fog growing thicker and thicker...
At first, you feel the world around you turning hazy, a cool dampness settling on your skin. Then the moisture gathers and thickens, as if you’ve stepped into a cloud—you can practically taste the water in each breath. Before long the fog congeals into a blank white wall, and you can’t see a thing ahead.
Usually, when a foggy day sets in and the sea lies calm without a swell, “slow sea snakes” appear. Sea snakes live in the ocean, and when they turn up they love to coil around a boat’s rudder—perhaps because the hull is smooth and, aside from the rudder, there’s not much else to cling to. A sea snake can grow to several catties in weight; once it wraps itself around you, your speed drops sharply, hence the name “slow sea snake.” Sometimes you’ll see one spinning lazily across the fog-shrouded surface, its black-and-yellow banded body easy to spot.
Sea snakes look quite distinctive, rather different from their terrestrial cousins. Perhaps because they need to swim like fish, their tails are flatter, their heads narrower than their bodies, and their trunks can be thicker than an arm. When sea snakes appear, there’s no need for a hook—catch sight of one, scoop it up with a net, and you’ve got yourself a delicacy.

Secret Remedies Sought Amid the Waves
The storyteller says: Even boat-dwellers get seasick. I remember going out to sea as a child—sometimes I’d feel queasy even when the water was calm, and it was worse when the boat was still. But if the boat had just “opened new” (set sail), how could you justify turning back to shore just because you were throwing up from seasickness? At that point, it wasn’t just feeling like you might puke—you were really about to lose it.
So we turned to a family folk remedy based on “like nourishes like”: weak legs, eat pig’s feet; need brain power, eat pig’s brain. For seasickness, we relied on brown-spot grouper. Groupers like this variety hug the seabed year-round, steady and settled. Haul one up, simmer a pot of mud-spot grouper congee, and it naturally calms the spirit and stops the vertigo. I’ve even wondered whether making anti-nausea medicine out of grouper would work too. One spoonful is the foggy wooziness of seasickness; the next is the grounded steadiness brought by aged tangerine peel; another spoonful and you’re in a fresh, pleasant state. It may not sound very scientific, but when you think about it, it just might do the trick.







