The Journey to find “The Greatest Fisherman in Bali”
Until 50 years ago, the islanders of Bali sustained themselves mainly on the ocean.
Fishing was a massive part of their culture and the water itself held great significance. Today however, natural resources are sparse, tourism often monopolizes traditions and the fishing hotspots are now getting smaller.
Finding someone who still exercises the traditional means of fishing to sustain their family in Bali was my task.
So, who do I need to contact to get in touch with a local, elderly, yet active, Balinese fisherman? Not just someone who casts a line and hopes for the best, but someone who thinks about their goal and accomplishes it with perseverance. Someone who is still striving and understands the natural resources of their land. I’m imagining them capturing their prey with a technique that has been viewed as an art and has been perfected over decades…
That kind of fisherman.
Enter Peter.
[Peter: Ex-commercial Tuna fisherman. Half Balinese, half Argentinian.]
He has lived in Bali his whole life, and has been interviewed by me for two different TracingThought documentaries. A real wealth of knowledge.
- I texted and he replied -
P: “Eddie’s family is well known and successful fisherman”
P: “His father is the most famous traditional fisherman among his peers.”
P: “They live in Amed.”
P: “His father is an amazing man, not many left in this world.”
P: “-891 968 XXXX-“
Bali, Indonesia 01:33pm
Connections, connections, connections.
I Whatsapp messaged and spoke to Eddie, he seemed very excited about my idea, we had a date and time set for me to film his father, Pak, for a day of fishing at sea!
The location for this is in Amed, where Tyler and I attended the Deep Week free-diving camp. From my village, is a grueling 3 hour drive through the mountains to the other side of the island. Needless to say, this trip wasn’t just going to need camera prep but mental preparation as well.
If anyone reading this has ever driven a motorbike for longer than an hour, you know what I am talking about! The plan was to go to sleep at 8:30 pm to prepare for a wake-up call at midnight. Two hours past 9 I’m laying on my back staring at the ceiling.
Sleep.
Waking up wasn’t so bad since I never felt like I actually went to sleep, but the grogginess and side-eyed headache never seem to disappoint and were there to greet me like old friends.
COFFEE.
Energized and ready to go. Completely running on adrenaline.
I load up the motorbike with my camera gear and Mason Jar of granola and proceed to wake up the neighborhood as I speed off down our dark, broken, concrete-tiled road. About this time (when the sleep-deprived, coffee induced jitters begin) I get super excited for the day ahead and think to myself, “Who needs sleep?”
You might be asking yourself, “Why in the hell would she be leaving at midnight to get there at 3:00 am to go fishing?” Well, you’re not alone, I asked myself the same question. Turns out, the man I plan to spend an entire day with starts his voyage out to sea between 3:30 and 4:00am!
2:40 am
Did I seriously just take a wrong turn?
No service and because I’m in the mountains, there are no lights except for the ones on my bike. I turned too quickly right before this and fell, hitting a rock in the road and tipping over. My level of frustration and worry that I was going to be late was to the max.
I can see a dark figure coming from the trees…
It’s another fisherman. He comes out of his house yelling,
“Berhenti, Berhenti” (stop, stop).
“Arah yang salah.” (wrong direction)
He is kind and has me follow him back down the mountain and onto a sharp left-hand turn & I’m off.
3:07 am
Deep breath.
I made it. I asked a woman weaving a fishing net on her porch which house Eddie lives in…. she points to her right…
Pat on the back Ashlei, you made it. Perfect timing. I'll just call Eddie and tell him I’m here….No answer. Ok, no worries, maybe he is just not by his phone…No answer. Now I am worried. I drive all the way out here for someone to get cold feet, or worse, ignore me?! About the fifth time I called Eddie, I get a very sleepy and annoyed voice on the other end. He wakes up and is surprised that I am actually there. He gets nervous… speaks in fast Indonesian to his mother…
Pak already left.
Eddie failed to mention to his father anything about my arrival or my plans to make a video about him. Yeah. You read that right. Eddie hastily came outside to meet me and was very apologetic from the start.
Pak wouldn’t be back until 9.
My knowledge of the Indonesian language, both Bahasa Indonesia and Balinese, is that of a beginner but I can speak with confidence. Enough for small talk. With so much time to chit-chat though, it made it hard for continuing conversation between Eddie and his family.
9 am
Finally!
Pak’s arrival was pointed out to me. I would have never found him otherwise, with hundreds of fishermen to choose from that were all coming in from the ocean. Though when he came, the surprise of having a Westerner at his house with a big camera was quite a shock.
Eddie explained to Pak, why I was there. After my introduction, Pak and I became friends and enjoyed each other’s company. Though the feeling of being a stranger in someone else’s house never left, I was always treated nicely. The Balinese are gold medalists for being the kindest people on earth.
I’m exhausted. I can barely think. My adrenaline rush ended around 5 am and I’ve already been up for 10 hours.
No worries, I’ll just get the interview over with today and tomorrow morning will be the outing on the boat.
This video was going in my “A Day In The Life Of” mini-series.
Around 4 pm, after we got honey from Pak’s beehives and ate some delicious popcorn, we did the interview. Time moved like a snail on this day. I was informed that all of Pak’s energy was used when he was fishing, so, for the rest of the day, he usually takes it slow. He is 62.
5pm
It’s going to be dark soon.
Ash, you need to find a place to sleep. I’ll give Tyler a call and ask him if he remembers any good places to go to.
"Yeah, that’s what I thought of too... Ok, I love you too."
A friendly familiar hotel with a staff that was happy to see me again. I felt very relieved and happy to see recognizable faces. You know that feeling on a roller coaster when your stomach does that weird floppy thing? That’s exactly how I felt when I was told they were all booked. If anyone has ever negotiated a hotel price in a foreign country then you know it’s not always a pleasant experience. This is what I was going to be faced with now. I could feel myself on the verge of emotionally losing it. And it wasn’t for any reason other than being tired.
I drove up and down the streets of Amed, a somewhat touristy town with 150,000 Rupiah in my pocket (about $11). Needless to say, bargaining was a literal gamble.
Homestay #1- Denied.
Homestay #2- Denied
Hostel #3- Booked
Hotel #4- Booked
Homestay #5- Denied
Homestay #6- Denied
Around 8:20 pm, Kadek saved me and I will never forget his name. He was the owner of Bamboo Bali Bungalows. He stared at my 150,000IDR ($11) shook his head and said, “Okay.” After six denied hotels, I was finally in a room and had a place to rest my head until 3 am. Dammit, if this headache could just go away it wouldn’t make things seem so bad! Everything happens for a reason, Ashlei, this is your mantra.
I am so exhausted and fuzzy brained. I’ll be honest… I don’t remember much else.
Sleep.
I woke up at 3am to be at the boat by 4am - I was there before Pak or any other fishermen and he was shocked to see me standing there.
We shared a smile in the dark and then, he began to put together his things. He brought two water cups and put them inside his single, small, creaking cabinet in the hull of the boat.
If it weren’t for all of the fishermen’s headlamps that surrounded us, I wouldn’t have been able to see a damn thing.
There was something special about Pak. Everyone greeted him as they came down to the water. Everyone told him good morning. "Selamat Pagi".
We waited our turn to put our boat into the water.
Don’t trip on the rocks, don’t trip on the ropes, jump in the boat when he says,“Sekarang” and do it, do it fast!
I am watching 62-year-old, Pak single-handedly put his boat over his shoulders, push up with his legs, and walk with it. His bare and callused feet take the wooden structure down to the water.
“Sekarang!!! Sekarang!!” I jumped into the boat as it crashed into the waves. Pak was still in the water. He hung onto the side of the boat and eventually lifted himself over. He took the wooden ore and rowed with all of his strength behind him. Pak is a hardened fishing machine. No fear came from this man.
Gasp!
A thousand stars and pounding waves.
I could only make out Pak’s figure from the dim light of the sky. It was the perfect mix of romanticism and misery. I was obsessed. I didn’t care if my camera broke or if I fell off the boat. The feeling of stepping into someone else shoes (or lack thereof) and feeling a new way of life meant everything. Imagine this. I feel as though I am surrendering to my emotions, completely.
It was a two-hour ride out to sea against the wind. Neither of us knew the words to express our emotions. His calmness and serenity felt comforting, almost like he had already seen a lifetime worth of things that whatever if anything were to happen, it didn’t even matter. All this time, I know nothing. Nothing about where we were going or how far we were traveling.
Everything is always worth it, in the end.
I was drenched from head to toe. The new camera I bought 3 months ago? Protected by the “raincoat” that was my body. No waterproof casing could be afforded yet. I took the risk.
I could see the sunrise over Lombok, the sister island to Bali.
With Bali in the distance, he threw the nets and lines.
Accuracy.
Perseverance.
Technique.
It was all there. Everything I was imagining, I got it.
Pak had done this a million and one times. He was the best fisherman on the coast according to family, neighbors, and friends.
We didn’t catch any fish.
No one did.
How? Why? All of these hundreds of fishermen out here and no one was successful? It’s the sea? No one Pak knows caught any fish.
Pak reveals to me later that this has been the norm lately.
Years and years of experience, years and years of catching anything and everything with countless people following his lead. Now, to what avail?
Where does it take us?
This was a very humbling experience and one that I feel I personally grew from. Pak to me, is an inspiration and is a reminder to me about why I am doing what I am doing.
Whether you read this first or watched the video first, I hope you get the chance to experience both. For you will be able to better understand the video at hand and maybe have a few inner questions answered about it all. I hope you enjoyed this and look forward to seeing you on the next posting, to get A Deeper Understanding.
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