Salt Pans in Malta 
Pauline Dingli, SKS, Malta 2019

Although we are today being constantly warned against its overuse, salt is what makes food interesting, changing it, they say, from black-and-white into full colour. It is enough to ask those who have been told to keep off it. In addition, it has also multiple uses in tanning, dyeing and bleaching, as well as in the production of pottery, soap and chlorine, and the che­mical industry in general. Of around 200 million tonnes of salt produced annually, only about six per cent is used for human consumption.

So easily accessible today, there were times when it was bartered in equal weight for gold in central Africa. The story of Malta’s white gold is exhaustively researched and documented in Pauline Dingli's Salt Pans in Malta, a richly-illustrated publication that bears witness to the author’s long preparation, both in texts as well as in actual fieldwork. Anyone who has enjoyed Mark Kurlansky’s masterly study of the salt industry around the world will find in Dingli a timely and pleasant update of the local situation.

The production of salt in the islands must have accompanied the earliest settlers 7,000 years ago. Rock pools would have produced natural supplies, so important for preserving food, with salt being one of the few local tradeable products.

Dingli makes a case that the deep cylindrical pools found near such shores as Peter’s Pool, Delimara, Xgħajra, Marsalforn and Mġarr ix-Xini could well have been used for the production of garum, that evil-smelling salty sauce of rotting fish guts that was considered an extremely expensive deli­cacy by the Romans. A whole chapter of the book is dedicated to this subject.

Such was the value of garum then, that according to Pliny, “scarcely any other liquid except unguents has come to be more highly valued, bringing fame even to the nation that makes it”. Do some of the unopened amphorae in the Xlendi wreck hold locally-made garum?

We are on more solid ground for the Middle Ages. Several Mellieħa place-names indicate production possibly by the Arabs, while there is documented proof of salt-making before the arrival of the Order, which saw that production was greatly increased and put on more effective production lines.

The author lending a helping hand at the Delimara salt pans.

The story of Malta’s white gold is exhaustively researched and documented in Pauline Dingli's Salt Pans in Malta

The extension of the Burmarrad saltworks to the length of about one kilometre built on reclaimed land of clay predates the Great Siege. Shown on maps as the nuove saline, they were to prove most useful to line the grand master’s purse, since all profit from export went to him. The economic importance of these saltworks can be gauged by the remark of Miege in 1841, who wrote that an incredible 3,000,000 kilos were exported per year!

An aerial view of the Salina complex.

There were other smaller salt pans all over the island, wherever there were flat Globigerina stretches near the sea. There are 40 of these of various sizes, duly mapped and named, several of which are still being used.

The author studied all the works but focuses on those with unique features, such as those at Baħar iċ-Ċagħaq, with their complex engineering; Baħrija, which “produced the cleanest and whitest” salt; Qammiegħ, reachable through “a Roman road”; or those at Xgħajra, with their outstanding architecture.

The Delimara salt pans are the last significant works in Mal­ta; run by the Mangion family, they produce salt on a large scale for domestic and industrial use with a harvest possible every week in favourable conditions.

Yet the jewel of them all must be the salina of the Knights, which has recently been so beautifully restored and is crying out to start producing salt again every summer. It should provide an excellent place for educational and touristic visits. Dingli delves deeply into the history of these salt pans and the changes they underwent over the centuries using invaluable historical records.

Gozo’s most famous saltworks are the 16,000 rock-hewn pans stretching over one kilometre of coast at Qbajjar. Here in the past lay the Clockmaker’s pans with their own unique story to tell. The notorious well he dug can still be seen blocked today. The Qbajjar artisan saltworks, which involve no machinery, have the highest demand for edible salt in the islands and may indicate a way forward for the Burmarrad site.

The process of making salt is described in detail, much of which depends on the salter’s attention. Dingli explains in detail the engineering behind the pans and the workings of the process, which does not consist of just leaving seawater to dry in the sun. It was hard, backbreaking work in the sun, with the other seasons spent in constant maintenance. A special bonus for linguists and lovers of folklore is the list with the local names of the salter’s tools.

A separate section deals with the history and uses of salt, of which it is said there are 14,000 known uses throughout the world. Dingli concentrates on solar salt, salt produced through evaporation, and also discusses the merits of the variously coloured salts that have become so popular today.

Other sections of the book cover interesting aspects of salt, including major saltworks around the Mediterranean, medicinal uses, salt therapy and salt as a medium in religious art.              

Dingli's book, with its sound text and many old and recent photographs, official plans and diagrams, is certainly worth its salt.