Unfinished boats line the shore of Gwadar’s fishing jetty — they sit mid-air with ladders dangling from their hulls, their bodies just skeletons hinged together. The sand below is covered with scraps of wood and hammers and the footprints of men who have been in this trade for generations. Beyond them, on the horizon, bob the boats that they spend months at a time building: flecks of colour in the endless blue, mini-fortresses soldiering through the tide.