Ghous Al Kabir marked start of the four-month pearl-diving season in the UAE

As part of 'the big dive', crews would head out on dhows to search for the best oyster beds

A photograph of the pearl divers on display at the Pearl Museum at Emirates NBD head office in Deira, Dubai. Pawan Singh / The National

Stamps picturing pearl-diving tools, with a half piece of pearl placed at the corner of each stamp. These were issued in 2005. Reem Mohammed / The National

Men who once worked as crew on pearl-diving ships help out on their friend's racing dhow. Many still gather with other pearl divers in Umm Sequim 1, a fishing port near Burj Al Arab. Nicole Hill / The National

Young men hunt for pearls in the oysters they harvest while participating in the Kuwait Sea Sports Club's Pearl Diving Heritage Revival Festival in 2010.

Jossem Al Ameni, 19, and Mashal Al Dhiferi, 24, dive for pearls in the Arabian Sea in 2009. Andrew Henderson / The National

Kuwaitis sail in traditional dhows during preparations for the annual pearl diving expedition in 2009. Andrew Henderson / The National

Attiq Khalfan, left, and Ahmed Majed, back right, once worked as crew on pearl-diving ships. Nicole Hill / The National

A traditional pearl-diving experience is recreated for tourists as part of an EMAG and Jumeirah-run event in Dubai in 2012. Antonie Robertson / The National

Boats sail into the Arabian Sea off the coast of Khairan, Kuwait, the traditional site for the Al Ghous Festival, to undertake in the 23rd pearl diving expedition in 2009. Andrew Henderson / The National

Bakeet Bin Safan, pictured in 2008, used to work on a pearl diving ship. Nicole Hill / The National

A photograph of pearl diver Faraj Al Muhairbi's souvenir pearls, collected over a lifetime of diving. Sarah Dea / The National

An organiser holds pearls that young sailors found in oysters on August 4, 2009 during the Al Ghous Festival in Kuwait. Andrew Henderson / The National

The divers would use a fettam, a clip made of turtle shell or sheep's bone, to keep their nostrils closed while underwater. Andrew Henderson / The National

On June 1, on shores across the UAE, men, women and children would gather for a ceremony called hiraat, the word for oyster bed.

It marked the first day of Ghous Al Kabir, or the big dive, where pearl-diving crews would be sent off to sea on wooden dhows with a beachfront ceremony, according to the Department of Culture and Tourism — Abu Dhabi.

The community would bid them farewell from the water's edge, as they prepared for the new pearl-fishing season, which would end in September with the firing of a cannon.

The weather was hot, but the seas would be calm and clear, perfect for diving.

The crews were made up of about 30 people, mostly men, but sometimes boys and girls.

There were many roles involved in the four-month operation. A nukhadh, the owner or manager of the boat, ran things, while the captain, or sardal, was the expert navigator, who knew where all the best oyster beds were located.

Then there were the divers, who had the most perilous job, but also the seib, who were the men in charge of the rope, or yada, used to lower the divers into the sea and pull them back up. Tabbab were boys aged between 10 and 14 who would help the seib. They were often the children of crew members.

Boys referred to as ridha would serve food and tea, and help to open oyster shells.

The naham had arguably the most important role, keeping up morale by providing entertainment in the form of songs and poetry during those long months at sea.

The divers would use a fettam, a clip made of turtle shell or sheep's bone, to keep their nostrils closed while underwater and a rope, known as the zubail was attached to a diver's leg and tied to a stone weight in order to help them sink to the sea floor. They'd put the oysters they collect into a dean, or woven bag, tied around their neck.

"Some people would dive and others would stay on the boat," said Buti Al Mazrouei in an interview with The National to mark the UAE's 50th anniversary. At aged 12, Mazrouei would spend summers on diving fleets taking pearls from oysters.

“They would take a maximum of four minutes underwater depending on how strong their lungs were. Some would survive while others would die. It was hard," he said.

The pearl-diving industry dates back about 6,000 to 7,000 years and it was the main driver of the economy in the seven Trucial States until the discovery of oil in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

In the 19th century pearl diving accounted for as much as 95 per cent of the region's income, and at its height, early in the 20th century, about 80,000 men worked on the pearling vessels — 22,000 in the Trucial States alone. The historic centre of pearl diving in the Arabian Gulf, however, was and is Bahrain, where in 2021 the country's Institute for Pearls and Gemstones said it significantly increased the number of diving licences it issued, including for the first time, female pearl divers.

Scroll through the gallery below to see Bahrain's Unesco-listed Pearling Path

Today, natural stones are still immensely valuable when compared to artificial alternatives, and so pearl fishing is making a gradual, safer comeback as countries across the region look to diversify their economy and tap into their rich heritages.

Those who remember the old days of pearl diving can hardly lament the loss of its dangerous processes, but a revival of its ceremonial traditions wouldn't go amiss.

On the last days of Ghous Al Kabir, as the cannon's fire emanated through the skies, families would prepare for their loved ones' arrival. They would decorate their homes with cloth flags, called bayraq or bandira, and prepare sweets, juices, nuts and other treats.

Dhows could be seen in the distance, steering their way to the UAE's beaches. As crews stepped off, the community would sing songs of welcome, to which they would reply with melodies of their own.

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