A viral video from a diver in Amed spotlights a pervasive, if unintentional, threat to Bali’s marine ecosystems: tourists simply standing in the wrong place.
AMED, Bali — The scene at Jemeluk Bay, renowned for its accessible snorkeling and vibrant coral gardens, was one of quiet destruction. In a video that has since circulated widely, the underwater view was not of colorful fish, but of dozens of tourist feet—some in fins, others in water shoes, many bare—planted firmly atop the fragile, living structure of the reef.
The footage, captured by diver and environmental advocate Manuel Bergmann (@manuelbergmann), offers a stark glimpse into a chronic issue plaguing Bali’s popular shallow-water sites: the crushing of coral by unaware visitors.
A Clash in a Quiet Corner
Amed has long been prized as a quieter alternative to Bali’s bustling south, a place where its serene coastline and shallow, clear reefs are effortlessly accessible, even to first-time snorkelers. This very accessibility, however, sets the stage for the problem Bergmann documented. Tourists, including children, use the reef as a steadying platform to rest, adjust masks, or simply walk in the chest-deep water, seemingly oblivious to the damage they cause.
“Corals are living animals, not rocks or plants,” Bergmann emphasizes in on-screen text. “Every step can break them and often, they cannot recover.” His frustration is palpable as he appears on camera, urging viewers not to remain silent bystanders.
The Chasm Between Signage and Understanding
The problem underscores a significant gap in environmental stewardship. Even with official signage prominently displayed at the site warning in both English and Indonesian, “DO NOT TOUCH CORAL,” the message fails to translate into behavior for many. The reef’s complex, stony appearance can misleadingly suggest durability, masking the truth that it is a slow-growing colony of tiny, sensitive animals.
Bergmann’s video transitions from documenting the problem to modeling a solution. He approaches a group of tourists standing on the coral. “Excuse me. Can you not step on the corals? Because it’s living animals. They die when you step on them,” he says calmly. The response—a quick “Ok, thanks” and a move to swim away—suggests not malice, but a simple, corrected lack of awareness.
A Call for Peer-to-Peer Stewardship
The incident highlights a critical need for proactive, on-the-ground education that goes beyond static signs. For the global community of travelers and expatriates in Bali who value the island’s natural resources, Bergmann’s action presents a compelling case for polite, direct intervention. It frames environmental protection not solely as a government or operator responsibility, but as a shared duty among those in the water.
The health of Bali’s coral reefs is not just an ecological concern; it is a direct economic one. These ecosystems are the foundation of the marine tourism that sustains local livelihoods in areas like Amed, where snorkeling and diving are economic lifelines. Degraded reefs mean fewer fish, less beauty, and a diminished experience that ultimately threatens the industry itself.
Bergmann’s viral moment serves as a microcosm of a global challenge in overtouristed natural sites. It asks a difficult question: how does a destination protect a fragile, invisible world from the innocent footsteps of those who have come to admire it? His suggested answer—one of courage and communication—leaves a quiet challenge for every visitor.
In Bali, where the line between paradise and its peril is often just a few feet beneath the surface, preserving it may require more than admiration; it requires the willingness to speak up for what lies unseen below.
