Traditional Balinese timber fishing canoes, once prominent fixtures along the island’s southern coastline, have nearly vanished according to recent research published in the International Journal of Nautical Archaeology. A survey of local beaches found only six intact timber jukung pelasan remaining, reflecting half a century of profound coastal and economic changes driven heavily by tourism development.
The Disappearance of Traditional Jukung Pelasan
Before Bali emerged as a major global tourist destination, fishing villages lined the beaches of Benoa, Nusa Dua, and Sanur. Generations of local fishers built and sailed jukung pelasan, which are traditional timber double-outrigger sailing canoes featuring colourful carved gajah mina, or elephant-fish, prows. According to Balinese Hindu tradition, the gajah mina represents a creature with an elephant head and a fish body that symbolises unity between land and sea while protecting crews during voyages.
These canoes functioned as central components of daily life, serving as status symbols and community identities. They embodied generations of craftsmanship, spiritual beliefs, and maritime knowledge. However, as tourism took hold in the 1970s and 1980s, hotels and resorts replaced traditional fishing villages, prompting many fishers to leave the sea for stable work in the tourism sector.
Did You Know? By 1754, Macassan traders were harvesting trepang (sea cucumber) in Australian waters, linking northern Australia to markets across Asia and establishing maritime connections with Indonesian seafarers.
Economic Shifts and Material Scarcity
The decline of timber jukung stems directly from shifting local livelihoods and a lack of boat-building materials. A retired boat builder in Sanur reported that demand for timber fishing boats has vanished because nobody fishes anymore. Furthermore, the large trees previously used for hulls were felled decades ago to accommodate beach resorts, while the bamboo required for spars and outriggers no longer grows large enough, leaving remaining suitable bamboo prohibitively expensive.
To sustain incomes, former fishers have adapted to the modern economy. A former fisher told researchers that he now takes tourists out on fibreglass replicas for sunrise breakfast sails. Meanwhile, Indonesia’s tourism sector continues to expand rapidly, with revenue growing by 6.3% in the first quarter of 2026. Bali generated 55% of national tourism earnings in 2025, with the industry accounting for roughly 60% of the island’s gross domestic product.
Preservation Efforts and International Collections
As timber jukung disappeared from Bali’s beaches, some were replaced by fibreglass vessels, while others were sold to overseas collectors. Consequently, only a few surviving examples exist outside Indonesia today, housed in institutions such as Darwin’s Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory, Seattle’s Burke Museum, and the Institute of Ancient Chinese Ships in Ningbo, China.
Safeguarding maritime heritage requires preserving intangible knowledge—such as selecting timber, shaping hulls, and reading the sea—alongside the physical boats. To address this loss, ongoing research involving archaeologist Widya Nayati from Universitas Gadjah Mada involves recording traditional Balinese maritime techniques, terminology, and stories directly from remaining fishers and boat builders.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is a jukung pelasan?
They are traditional timber double-outrigger sailing canoes built by generations of Balinese fishers, featuring colourful carved gajah mina prows that symbolize unity between land and sea.
How many timber jukung pelasan remain on surveyed beaches?
Recent research published in the International Journal of Nautical Archaeology found only six intact timber jukung pelasan remaining on the surveyed beaches.
Where can traditional Balinese jukung be found outside Indonesia?
A few examples are held internationally, including at Darwin’s Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory, Seattle’s Burke Museum, and the Institute of Ancient Chinese Ships in Ningbo, China.
How might local communities balance modern tourism growth with the preservation of ancient maritime craftsmanship?
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