ZÁBLATSKÝ, SOUTH BOHEMIA

This time of year, dawn breaks cold and misty in the Třeboň basin.

It's just after 7 in the morning and the sun is just beginning to rise over this flat, rural terrain in south Bohemia. But at the Záblatský pond, some 40 fisherman are already thigh-deep in the chilly water, preparing to reel in the day's carp catch.

They're carrying on a tradition that dates back more than seven centuries.

The Třeboň region contains nearly 500 artificially constructed fish ponds, connected by an intricate series of dikes and canals. It's been home to the country's carp industry since the 14th century, and techniques have evolved little since then. Today, carp retains its firm hold on Bohemia, home to the largest fish farming industry in Central Europe.

A cold drizzle begins to fall, but the fishermen continue about their work unfazed. One group herds the fish together by rhythmically slapping the water with long, handmade wooden poles. A second group stands in metal skiffs, holding the edges of a large net, positioning their boats to keep the herded fish from escaping. A last group, split in two, trudges in opposite directions through the water and up the pond's banks, pulling the heavy net taut as they go. The tension tightens the net to form a pouch filled with a seething, writhing mass of fish. By late morning, the catch will weigh in at 13 metric tons (14.3 short tons).

"All the tools we need, all the strategies we use, came from France around the 14th century," says Martin Kochta, caretaker of the Záblatský pond. "Fishing this way lets you sense the way the fish are moving. Machinery doesn't let you have this feeling."

Petr Sedláček, a technician with Rybářství Třeboň, the largest fishery in the country and the operators of the Záblatský pond, says, "There's no other way for us. We hope this way of fishing and the Czech tradition will not disappear."

The harvest runs for about six weeks, into early November, partly because cooler waters mean there's more oxygen to sustain the fish as they're gathered up. But the main reason is the coming holiday season, says Sedláček. After being scooped from ponds, the carp spend two months in tanks to clear the muddy taste from their flesh, just in time to land on Christmas dinner tables around the country.

Christmas without fried carp and potato salad is unthinkable for many Czechs. But "the consumption of carp in the Czech Republic is not on a good level," says Václav Šilhavý of the Czech Fish Farmers Association.

"People aren't accustomed to eating fish," Sedláček says. "Fish products are relatively expensive for Czech people, which is part of the problem. They go for poultry instead."

Domestic carp consumption has made small gains since 2000, according to Šilhavý. But Sedláček worries about the threat posed by cheaper imports: salmon from mass-production farms in Scandinavia, or trout shipped from countries such as Italy and Turkey. In total, the average per-capita fish consumption is just 5.5 kilograms (12 pounds) per year, and all but one of those kilograms are imported fish, Sedláček says.

Of the 3,000 metric tons of carp harvested by Rybářství Třeboň each year, up to 80 percent will be exported.

But this industry flux means little to Pavel Strouha, who staunchly maintains the fishing tradition. Now 50, he's an eighth-generation Třeboň fisherman, and his younger son is eager to follow in his footsteps.

"All the men in my family followed the tradition," he says. "As soon as I got out of the cradle, I knew I would be a fisherman."