Jimbaran is a famous beach in Bali.

Benito Lopulalan tells a story of

fishermen on Jimbaran Bay. (Firstly published in BALI ECHO
MAGAZINE, January 1998)

People of Fertile Sea

by Benito Lopulalan

One a dark night, Umar is despondent about the thick fog

that veils Jimbaran Bay. "I can't go fishing tonight" com-
plains the Madurese angler, who earns his living by lur-
ing fish with no more than a hook, line and sinker from
his simple wooden sloop. Umar is one of the many hard-
working fishers who are the silent, invisible force behind
the great resort dining and romantic candlelit seafood ca-
fes for which Jimbaran Bay is most famed.

Two main traditional villages are located on the bay: Jimbaran

and Kedonganan. In both villages, the inhabitants base their
livelihoods on boat-making and fishing. And like all fishers any-
where in the world, their main concern is tidal movements, wa-
ter currents, tropical currents and typhoons. In other words,
they are well aware of the precariousness of life for people of
the sea. "It would be so easy to have an accident in this mist,"
cautioned Umar in his thick Madurese accent. Given that fog on
the bay is a rare occurrence indeed, he could not help but sug-
gest wittily, "Perhaps Bali is being affected by the forest fires in
Borneo after all."

On a map of southern Bali, Jimbaran Bay appears as a wide bite

out of the eastern side of the island's foot-like peninsula. Its
predominantly limestone soil makes for beautiful white sand
beaches, such as that of Jimbaran, but poor farming land. The
land in Balli's southern peninsula is incredibly dry and arid.
Large trees are thin on the ground. For the most part, the only
ground cover here is coastal scrub, and the only shade is from
coconut trees.

The surrounding ocean, however, is much more plenteous. It

still abounds in an immense variety of animal life, and several
decades ago had an even richer supply of fruits de mer than it
does now. Visitors to the bay in the seventies recall frequently
seeing both fish and squid with the naked eye from the surface
of the water. Local fishermen remember often snaring fish that
were big enough to feed the whole family. But, as Made Pudja
points out, while the sea has rewarded them much more gra-
ciously than the land on which they live, "we have always been
farmers too." On the plot of land upon which we sat chatting,
scores of chickens wandered in and out of their coops, pecking
at pebbles on his small plot of land. Barrel-like, black hairy pigs
snorted and grunted in their sty, kept muddy and damp under
the shade of a coconut tree.

The Balinese fishers of Jimbaran Bay have long had contact with
those originating from other parts of the archipelago. But it was-
n't until the beginning of this century that a traditional port was
built in the bay, as a place where passing fishers could take ref-
uge from the violent Indian Ocean. The construction of the Jim-
baran port has encouraged even closer ties with fishers from
Celebes, Java, Madura, who dock in the bay to replenish their
supply or to sell produce they have brought from afar at the Ke-
donganan fish market.

The local fishing industry has done very well out of the tourism
boom that began to take place in Bali in the latter part of the
nineteen eighties, as there has been an increased demand at
the elite end of the market for fresh seafood in the Jimbaran
area. This is not only due to the construction of a number of lux-
ury resorts around the bay - most of which include specialty
seafood restaurants - but also the demand by upwardly mobile
local (both Balinese and non-Balinese) yuppies for such hip din-
ing situations as the down-market, on-the-sand seafood cafes.
The promising growth of the market for fresh seafood in Jim-
baran has attracted a flood of Javanese and Madurese fishers to
the island. Using larger boats, most of them anchor offshore,
thus depending on the smaller outriggers to transport their pro-
duce to the market and local fishers - or the many Madurese,
Javanese and Lombok fisher who have migrated here since the
boom - to transport and sell it for them.

Although Jimbaran Beach is indeed pretty, and there is a certain

romance to the soothing ebb and flow of the waves, the life of
the fishers is far less romantic. "It's not as if the fish are just
waiting for you to catch them," says Wayan Muka, who gave up
the life of an angler years ago. "On some days, we wouldn't
catch a thing, and would have to scrape up some other food for
our family to eat." Muka quickly discovered that he would have
to supplement his food income from fishing with farming pro-
duce, and began planting on his small plot of land by the beach.
But whatever the case, the fishers of yesteryear were destined
to live in poverty, as Muka explains: "Although there were many
days when we hauled in incredible catches, the price for seafood
was so low that we would rather just give it away free." Another
fisher from Makassar, Laode, notes that since the price of sea-
food has risen the fish supply in the bay has begin to decrease
significantly. "Perhaps, with so many fishers coming from all
over, the bay has been fished out," he suggested. Perhaps too,
the fish are victims of El Nino or even of pollution from develop-
ment projects.

Not only has the demand for seafood increased in the past few
years. Due to the development of tourist facilities in Jimbaran,
and the relocation of Bali's state Udayana University to the
nearby Bukit, land values have gone through the roof. This is a
fact that has changed the lives of Jimbaran fishers, especially
those who have substantial amounts of land, a great deal.
Wayan Muka, for example, sold several acres of the land he in-
herited from his parents to a broker several years ago, making
Rp400 million from the deal. With that money, on his remaining
land he built eight rooms to accommodate university students,
who pay him Rp50,000 monthly for board. "My income from
renting these eight rooms alone is more than what I got as a
fisherman." Following his neighbor's example, Muka also bought
two new Jimnys at Rp44 million each, which he leases to a
rent car company.

When their daughter graduated from senior high school last

year, the Pudja family opened a cafe selling fresh grilled
seafood on Jimbaran Beach. "Only members of the tradi-
tional villages of Jimbaran and Kedonganan can get a li-
cense to open a cafe," claims Made Lastri, who works with
her parents in their newly established cafe. The regulation
has prompted almost every member of those villages to
start their own cafes rather than continue fishing. "It's quite
rare these days to find a Balinese family from Jimbaran or
Kedonganan who make their living from fishing. The fisher
community of Jimbaran Bay is now almost entirely com-
posed of Madurese and Javanese, and it is Balinese who are
the buyers," comments Sukemi, a Javanese woman who
has a small stall at the Kedonganan fish market.

So does Made Pudja never go fishing any more?

"Sometimes I do, if I miss the sea." As an ex-fisher, Pudja
is able now to experience fishing as something recreational.
It just goes to show, the symbols of poverty can be enjoyed
by those who are no longer poor.