Dawn at the harbour, where the catch begins.

Before the city wakes.

Tyre has been a harbour town since Phoenician times, and its old port still works every day. In the early light the water is flat, the wooden boats rest along the quay in white, blue and red, and the first crews are already at work.

We shot it as it is: no set, no styling, no added light. Only the sun coming up over the sea and the people who start their day there.

Hands that know the nets.

Between trips, the fishermen sit on the quay and mend their nets knot by knot, a slow and precise craft done entirely by hand. They are the people who bring in the fish, long before it ever reaches a kitchen.

Documentary work means staying long enough for the camera to be forgotten. That is where these portraits come from: a laugh between two knots, a cigarette in the morning chill, a harbour cat keeping watch.

From the quay to the ice.

Then the catch comes off the boats and onto the ice: silver fish laid out in rows, shrimp still in their shells, whole fish of every size. We worked close and in daylight, so the shine of each scale and the cold of the ice come through in the picture.

This is the part of the story a menu can never tell on its own: what fresh fish looks like on the morning it comes out of the sea.

And finally, the table.

The series ends where the restaurant begins, on the plate. Seen after the harbour, a fillet or a fish sandwich is no longer just a dish on a menu. It carries the sea, the boats and the hands behind it.