ShareThe traditional craft of dhow building is an important part of Kuwait’s history, and it is being kept alive in the humble and lively workshop of Diwaniyat Al-Qallaleef on Arabian Gulf Street. Before the discovery of oil, explained Sadeq Al-Qallaf, Kuwait’s economy was dependent on trade and pearl diving. This was made possible by the expertly crafted traditional wooden ships (booms) that allowed merchants, sailors and pearl divers to travel by sea. Recognized by their family name, the shipwrights behind these booms are known as the “qallaleef”.
“When the English arrived, they were astonished,” builder Sayed Taleb Al-Qallaf told Kuwait Times. “They asked the great ship masters, where is the blueprint for this boom?” Sayed said, lifting a flat golden semi-circular instrument that looks like a protractor — a ‘hindaza’. It has a single string attached to it at the end. “This is our blueprint.” he said.
Sayed walks over to a miniature ship he’s building, roughly 1 metre wide and 1 metre high, and lines the flat edge of the instrument against the base of the ship. The string dangles vertically straight down the middle, proving it is angled correctly. He proceeds to slide the instrument all the way down along the base, and even though the semi-circle was moving and turning, the string never once left its central spot. “This is our map,” said Sayed. A qallaf doesn’t need a blueprint, only a hindaza and a piece of string, he pointed out.
The qallaleef built ships of different sizes for different uses. Sayed walked out of the workshop to the next room, filled with almost a hundred miniature ships. This is where the finished dhows are stored to be sold. Long ago, Kuwait had no water, explained Sayed. He points to a ship, “They call this boom may.” The qallaleef built this to travel to the Shatt Al-Arab in Iraq, pick up water and then come back to give out to the population. It was equipped with tanks and pathways for the water to be drained and stored. People would line up at the shore as the ship arrived to refill their water sacks.
There’s also the ‘shoue’ for pearl diving, as well as the ‘jalboot’ and ‘sambook’, said Sadeq. There’s the ‘saffar’ and the large ‘baghlah’ for travelling long distances, and the ‘batteel’ for both diving and travel. Sayed pointed to the last ship in the room — this one was different and larger than the others, roughly 2 metres long. It’s painted white with gold-rimmed windows and blue doors.
“A 100 years ago, they built this for Sheikh Ahmad Al-Jaber. It was called ‘Bayan’,” Sayed said, adding Sheikh Ahmad used it to call back the pearl divers at the end of the diving season. He pointed to the front deck of the ship. “There’s a cannon here. He fired it to signal the diving season is over, and they came back.” He proudly points to a picture hung outside the room showing Sayed greeting former Amir Sheikh Sabah Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah, with another replica of the masterfully crafted ‘Bayan’ in front of them. “This is me shaking his hand,” Sayed said. “I said this is your father’s ship and gave it to him.”
There is one final ship in the last room at the end of the diwaniya — a grey rectangular block with a flat surface. “1946,” Sayed said. “World War II. The English came to Haji Ahmad, the great master, our grandfather.” According to him, they asked him to build 1,000 of them. They would line them up one after the other so tanks could roll over them and be transported over water. “They called her ‘dooba’,” Sayed said, holding up the contract that was signed between the English and Haji Ahmad, framed next to the dooba.
Sayed walks through the step-by-step process of building a traditional dhow. First, you start with three pieces of wood. A long wooden strip lying flat on the floor makes up the base called the ‘bees’. Then two strips attached at either end of it and angled upwards are called the ‘meel sadr’ and ‘meel tufar’. Then comes the ‘shalameen’, pieces of wooden strips imported from India that vertically stick up from the base, making the structure look like a ribcage.
After that, wooden planks are attached horizontally to the shalameen, running all the way to the top, covering and completing the base. The surface of the boom is then placed, and the base is finalized. “Everything has a name,” said Sayed, pointing to each individual piece that makes up the surface of the boom and naming them — ‘quwayem’, ‘neem’, ‘chlab’, ‘khiyeesat’, ‘sdairy’, etc. The final step is attaching the mast and then the sails, which Sadeq was doing.
Sadeq tied the ropes and told the story of the diwaniya; in the past, the qallaleef would sit and gather on the shore inside one of their ships. One day the Amir saw them and ordered for a diwaniya to be built for them, so the builders could have a place to gather and preserve their craft. The building remains to this day, facing the shore right next to Seif Palace. “We are going to pass, and others will come after us. And others will pass and more will come,” he said. Our ancestors gave us our profession, he continued, “Which we will give to our children. And their children will give to their children.”
Abdullah Al-Qallaf, the youngest of the three in the room, stands next to Sadeq and Sayed, building his second-ever ship. He started learning the craft of his ancestors a year ago. “I’m surprised at how difficult it is,” he said. “The level of detail all without a map shocked me.” Abdullah spends three months crafting one ship, learning gradually the tricks of the trade from Sayed. Using only a hindaza, a piece of string and chalk to mark dimensions, Abdullah hopes to continue building many more ships and preserve the craft of his grandfathers.
