Lembata, home to traditional sea giants hunters.

The villages of Lamalerap and Solor are the ony two spots in indonesia and its surrounding continents where traditional whale hunting still exist and allowed. The Whaling Convention, of which Indonesia is not a member, had consented that this activity is allowed for the sole purpose of the lembatans to hunt is pure consumption.

The whaling season usually occurs during the dry period called mussi leffa between May till September. This is when the big games of the sea passing the island by on their migrating route. To welcome the promising season, people of Lamalerap conduct rituals in churches, bringing flowers and candles to pay respect for the dead, members of the clans who died on their brave excursion in their efforts bringing home the family’s bread and butter from the sea. At the sea shore, domesticated animals such as goats and chickens are sacrificed, their blood splattered on certain areas of the pledang boat for good luck. The first pledang was set off as a symbolic gesture to commence the season. Within the next days, watchers stay alert at the shore for the familiar sights signaling the passing of the preys. Koteklema (Whales) most naturally travel in groups of five and when they are in sights, sometimes preceeded by this particular rolls of clouds that the natives indicates as the whale cloud. The water spout from the back of whales upon them breathing out can also be witnessed from a far distant as a siren for the whole village members to quickly get up and go

Upon spotting these signs, the watchers quickly shout “baleo .. baleo.. baleo...” which will be promptly responded by the ever ready matroses to quickly jump on to their own clan’s pledang and raise the sail. There should be at least one Lamafa in the Pledang and he would have a Berung Alep to assist him conquer the whale. Occasionally they would invite travelers / adventurers who happens to be there for a boat ride. Money to be collected from them upon returning to shore, more when they bring back whale or catch.

Their women, are in similar frantic and getting meals ready in plastic and tin containers wrapped in cloth, daun lontar attached to each package baring the name of the owner.

The matroses row to the vast ocean getting close to the whale. The boats would cut the serene path of the whales, and encircle them to get closer look, watching intensely and scrutinizing the game’s most vulnerable spot. Seemingy no other activities are occuring on the boat other than the nerve wreking quietness as the Lamafa getting his aim ready at the whale. Attitude is foremost important to determine end’s result. Ill saying, jokes would simply bring bad luck to the whole task, community, and village as this would drastically reduce the success rate of the year’s harvest A creepy silence swept the air and the people on them. This is their life at stake. Everyone is alert and discerning on their own specific task.

The lowered sails can be clearly visible from the shore and mountains where wives, daughters, sisters and relatives of matroses would wait expectantly upon their catch.

“Is the fish ours?” yelled the Lamafa. As the rest of the crew on the boat replied to confirm the statement, he then plunge deep into the water, aiming the tempuling (iron made sharp object with bambbo handle attached with a long rope) that he places high above his head to that particular spot. A deadly stuck on the koteklema’s body.

The whale, can reach fro 15 to 20 meters long and weigh up to 5 tons in each meter, would drag the boat miles away. Often the bulky animal dives deep under bringing down the whole hunting group and sometimes it would flip the boat. Many have dissappear during the whale hunting trip. The community keeps every single loss of the soul, on detailed occasion on record since the beginning of this century

As blood gushed out from the wound, the sea become a mix of water and blood, sometimes blood would spurt to the sea surface from the gash. The atmostphere is just unbearable for foreign souls to the island and even perhaps for the Lamafa and the Matroses as one could never be too familiar with the sound of death. The process could take hours and hours, till the whale runnning out of blood and exhausted. Ropes are entangled around the victim keeping it very close to the pledang giving opportunity for the very ready Lamafa to strike again, at the most vital spot, to end the mysery. One last final cut at the belly would bring a loud cry from the quarry, killing the mammal.

This is not over. Yet the catch has been defeated. Some would smoke cigarrette and begin to eat, releasing the tension and stress they endure during the long tiring and stressful hours of hunting.

Depending on the wind that push the to shore, the boat and the catch would soon reach home. When sun has already set, then they must find nearest shore to halt. Heading home at the earliest hour in the next day.

On the shore, awating the return of their brave matroses and lamafas, families often slept at the beach making a shelter out of the pledang’s roofed storage. Torches lit creating a festive atmosphere for the successful journey their clan member had carried out.

As the whale reach the land, the long triumph tiring task begins. Men carrying duri (sharp blade 20-30 cm longwith bamboo handle) disecting the animals in slices .. making long rectangular piece of whitish fattish load of 1-2 meter of meat. 5 to 8 men have to drag the meat to the beach and hand it over to the women and males who did not participate in the hunting.

People from nearby villages and up mountains have witnessed the hunting from the distance and have expectantly bringing goods to be traded with fresh meats as they haven’t been too patient to wait for the meat to be dried and brought to them on the regular swap market.

The smell of blood and stink would linger for days, and these too will also followed by sporadic fever among the men as they have been working hard under the fierce sun for days.

Yet, the blood, sweat, lost lives of both the hunters and koteklemas are the fuel to the local economy. The battery that keeps their community alive and thrive, making it possible for the villagers to finance their kids education in the foreign lands, to keep them well fed for months and even years ... in the conservative economic system of Lembata.



(From various sources. Photos: Nikolaus Nara)