Indonesia’s Ancient Whale Hunt Struggles to Survive in Modern Era

POLICY WIRE — Lamalera, Indonesia — The traditional whale hunt of Lamalera remains one of the most perilous forms of subsistence fishing in the world.

Each year, villagers embark on a ritualistic journey that has persisted for generations. When a whale is spotted, the lamafa, or chief harpooner, plunges into the sea, using his dive to drive a bamboo harpoon into the massive creature. No modern technology is used, only time-honored techniques passed down through the ages.

Located on Lembata Island in East Nusa Tenggara province, the village of about 1,600 people has long relied on the ocean for survival. While the practice is recognized as part of Indonesia’s cultural heritage, local leaders hope to secure UNESCO status for the tradition, though no official application has been submitted yet.

The annual whaling season begins on May 1, but preparations start days earlier with sacred rituals aimed at seeking protection and unity. One such ceremony, Tobu Neme Fate, brings the community together to reflect and prepare for the dangers ahead.

On April 29, the Langowujon clan performs the Ie Gerek ritual, believed to summon the spirits of whales before the hunt. Later that day, villagers gather on the beach to honor those lost at sea, marking the transition from remembrance to anticipation.

Before the hunt, the peledang boats and harpoons are blessed during a Catholic Mass, reflecting the unique blend of faith and tradition in Lamalera. Catholic missionaries arrived on Lembata in 1886, but rather than replace local customs, they integrated them into their practices.

Every tool used in the hunt is handmade, with harpoons crafted by master blacksmiths like 87-year-old Ignasius Blajatake Beding, who has spent over six decades perfecting the craft. He believes it is vital to teach younger generations to preserve the legacy.

At dawn, crews push their boats into the water, each member playing a crucial role. The lamafa spots the whale, the helmsman guides the boat, and rowers use rhythmic chants to stay synchronized. German traveler Marco Grossman described the scene as chaotic and intense, where boats often capsize, but the crew works together with experience and focus.

Benjamin Keleka Tapoona, one of the village’s top harpooners, knows the risks well. He fears getting tangled in the rope, which can lead to serious injury or death. Tragedies have occurred, including the loss of an older man who had his foot caught in the line.

Ignasius Seran Blikololong, a former harpooner, still grieves the loss of his son Benjamin, who died during a hunt. The emotional toll of the trade is deep, yet the reward of a successful catch remains highly anticipated.

When a sperm whale is landed, the meat is shared according to a strict system, with portions set aside for the vulnerable. Much of the meat is dried for preservation, and it is also used in barter for food that is hard to grow in the region’s rocky terrain.

At the Wulandoni market, Lamalera residents trade marine products for agricultural goods. A single slab of fresh whale meat can be exchanged for six bananas, while dried meat can be traded for 12 sweet potatoes.

However, recent years have seen fewer successful hunts. In 2025, the village caught just three sperm whales, and as of July this year, only one was landed. Matheus Gilo Bataona, a local leader, notes that the catch has become unpredictable, making it difficult to meet subsistence needs.

To cope, fishermen now rely more on other marine species, including pilot whales, dolphins, and sharks. While there is no evidence that the current practice is ecologically unsustainable, some experts suggest considering precautionary limits.

Putu Liza Mustika, an environmental science lecturer, suggests that discussions around sustainable catch levels could help balance tradition with conservation. Meanwhile, officials are working to reduce the village’s dependence on whales by improving access to other marine resources.

The waters around Lembata support a potential catch of over 10,000 tonnes of fish annually. But better boats alone are not enough; fishermen need training and new skills to fully utilize these resources.

Changing livelihoods takes time, especially in a community where the sea has always been central to life. Hadi Umar, head of the fishery office, emphasizes the need to shift mindsets across generations.

Despite its isolation, Lamalera is not untouched by globalization. Fewer young people are choosing to follow in their ancestors’ footsteps. Marianus Yakobus Rubo Bataona, for example, is pursuing a university degree instead of becoming a harpooner, citing the dangers of the sea.

Reporting by Policy-Wire (PW)