Wednesday, 22 October 2025

 

Telok Blangah: The Forgotten Bugis Anchorage of Ancient Singapore

By Sarafian Salleh
Author of Tuah Bugis – Chronicles of the Seafaring People of Singapore (2023)


A Name that Hides an Older Story

The name Telok Blangah has long been accepted to mean the “Bay of the Pot.” This interpretation, repeated across articles and tourist guides, stems from the Malay word belanga, a clay pot used for cooking curry or stew. Indeed, when viewed from the sea, the bay’s curved coastline may resemble a giant cooking vessel.

Yet, behind this familiar explanation lies a deeper and more intriguing story. An old Berita Harian article hinted that Blangah may not be about pots at all, but rather a Bugis word related to anchorage - suggesting that the area could have been a maritime hub far older than the colonial town we know today.


Reconsidering “Blangah” — From Pot to Port

In Malay, labuh means “to drop anchor,” and pelabuhan means “harbour” or “anchorage.” These words share roots with the Bugis–Makassar term labuang or mallabuang, which carry the same meaning. The phonetic resemblance between labuang and blangah is striking.

It is plausible that over centuries of speech and trade, mallabuang softened through local tongues into balangah or blangah. This linguistic shift is consistent with how maritime place names evolve across the Malay Archipelago, shaped by oral transmission, regional dialects, and foreign transcription.

If that is the case, Telok Blangah would translate not as “Bay of the Pot,” but as “Anchorage Bay.”

My discussion with fellow Bugis authors & academics on the meaning of Telok Belangah in 2019

An Ancient Anchorage Before Empire

Long before Raffles founded a trading post in 1819, the southern shores of Singapore were already frequented by seafarers. Historical records, from the Sejarah Melayu to Chinese and Arab navigators’ logs, describe Temasek as a thriving maritime node between the 13th and 14th centuries.

When Sang Nila Utama (Sri Tri Buana) is said to have arrived in 1299, his choice of anchoring at Telok Blangah would have been guided by its natural features — a sheltered bay, deep waters, and access to inland rivers. These were the same maritime criteria used for centuries by Malay and Bugis sailors when selecting ports of call.

In this sense, Telok Blangah was not a random landing site but a logical maritime choice — a protected harbour ideally suited for large sailing vessels. It may have functioned as an entrepôt, with early administrators such as nakhoda (ship captains), shahbandar (harbour masters), and temenggong (local wardens) overseeing trade and navigation.


The Bugis Connection

Christian Pelras, in his seminal work The Bugis (1996), described how the Bugis and Makassar peoples from South Sulawesi expanded their maritime presence across the Malay world from the 17th century onwards. After the fall of Makassar to the Dutch in 1669, many Bugis fled to Riau, Selangor, and Johor  establishing coastal settlements, shipyards, and trading outposts.

By the late 18th century, Bugis navigators were already active throughout the Singapore Straits. When Raffles arrived, they were well-known for their trading fleets and sea networks stretching from Sulawesi to the Riau–Lingga Archipelago.

Thus, it is entirely possible that Bugis seafarers had already frequented or even settled at Telok Blangah before the British period. The very name Blangah, if derived from Bugis labuang, could be the last linguistic trace of their early anchorage on the island.


Clues from the Coastline

Historical maps and colonial surveys reveal several telling clues. The area around modern Harbour Front and Kampong Bahru was historically known as Kampung Nakhoda, literally “Village of the Ship Captain.” Such names were never accidental. They reflected the occupations and status of their inhabitants.

The term nakhoda (from Arabic nakhuda, meaning shipmaster) was widely used among Malay and Bugis traders. Its presence near Telok Blangah strengthens the idea that the bay once hosted a maritime community led by captains and traders, not farmers or inland settlers.

Even in the 19th century, when Bugis traders officially settled along the Rochor River to form Kampong Bugis, many oral traditions still associated the southern coast with earlier Bugis movements. The sheltered bay and its access to the Singapore Strait made it an ideal anchorage for fleets arriving from the Riau and Selayar islands.


Blangah as a “Matured Estate” of Ancient Temasek

To imagine Telok Blangah as a “matured estate” of ancient Singapura is not far-fetched. Like today’s modern port, it was probably a multi-ethnic maritime settlement, drawing traders, craftsmen, and sailors who lived by the rhythm of the sea.

Arab geographers referred to this region as part of the “islands of Zabag,” famed for gold and spices, while Chinese accounts mentioned Temasek’s bustling harbour. European navigators later confirmed the area’s natural depth and protection from monsoon winds.

The Bugis, being among the most skilled sailors of the archipelago, would have naturally recognised the strategic and navigational advantages of the bay. Their long familiarity with the currents, reefs, and seasonal winds could explain why their linguistic imprint >> Blangah >> remained embedded in the toponymy of Singapore.


Reclaiming the Maritime Memory

Modern Singapore’s rapid urbanisation has reshaped the landscape, but the sea remains in the nation’s DNA. The name Telok Blangah is more than a geographic label. It is a living echo of the island’s maritime soul.

If we accept the Bugis origin of Blangah, then this place was not merely a poetic bay but a functional harbour, possibly one of the earliest Bugis settlements in Singapore which perhaps predates the arrival of Sang Nila Utama because when the Pelembang Prince arrived Temasek, there was already Telok Blangah as mentioned in Sejarah Melayu. The story invites us to look beyond colonial timelines and recognise the indigenous maritime layers that predate 1819, the networks of Orang Laut, Malays, and Bugis who made these waters home.

In this light, Telok Blangah stands not as a colonial afterthought, but as the original port of Singapura, shaped by centuries of seafaring knowledge, trade, and cultural exchange.


References

  • Pelras, C. (1996). The Bugis. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers.

  • Andaya, L. Y. (1995). The Bugis-Makassar Diasporas. Journal of the Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 68(1), 119–138.

  • Sopher, D. E. (1965). The Sea Nomads: A Study of the Maritime Boat People of Southeast Asia. Singapore: National Museum.

  • Turnbull, C. M. (2009). A History of Modern Singapore, 1819–2005. NUS Press.

  • National Library Board Singapore. (n.d.). “Telok Blangah.” Singapore Infopedia.

  • Salleh, S. (2023). Tuah Bugis – Chronicles of the Seafaring People of Singapore. Bugis Temasek Publishing.

Sunday, 5 October 2025

Ayam Jantan Tanah Daeng

My first visit to Pulau Penyengat was in 2007, in the company of Pak Daing Zainal of Makam Radin Mas. At that time, the island, though beautiful, seemed in need of preservation and renewal. I believed then that Pulau Penyengat had the potential to serve as a focal point for heritage tourism and scholarship, providing a platform to rediscover the cultural and intellectual identity of the Malay world.

The Grand Mosque of the Sultan of Riau was the first sight that greeted us as we stepped off the jetty and onto the island. Its bright yellow and green walls stood out against the blue of the sky, almost as if announcing our arrival to Pulau Penyengat. The Grand Mosque of the Sultan of Riau (Indonesian: Masjid Raya Sultan Riau) stands proudly on Penyengat Island, just off the coast of Tanjung Pinang on Bintan Island, Indonesia. Built in 1844, this mosque is one of the most iconic landmarks of the Riau Islands and remains an important attraction for both visitors and pilgrims. With its striking yellow and green walls and its unique use of lime, sand, and egg whites as binding material, the mosque has stood the test of time as a living symbol of faith and resilience.


During my recent return, I observed significant transformation in how the island presents itself. Pulau Penyengat has emerged as a curated historical centre, inviting both visitors and researchers to re-examine the foundations of Malay identity and its contributions to regional history.


Contrary to the notion of being merely the site of Bugis settlement, Pulau Penyengat historically functioned as a centre of knowledge and culture. From the time of Raja Ali Haji, it has served as an intellectual anchor, shaping the Malay identity across Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia. Its legacy continues to remind us of the shared roots that define the uniqueness of Malay civilisation today.



I was sharing about Pulau Penyengat’s geopolitical story which can be traced back to the anthropological landscape of the Orang Laut who once made their homes along Sungei Carang, where their mastery of the seas and loyalty shaped the fortunes of rulers in the Johor-Riau world; over time.



This seafaring foundation gave way to a more strategic militarisation, most powerfully embodied in Raja Haji Fisabilillah’s establishment of a fire base at Bukit Kursi, a bold assertion of Bugis strength and defiance against Dutch encroachment, which not only guarded the heart of Riau but also announced the island’s role as a fulcrum of power in the region. 


From that martial origin, Penyengat grew into more than a fortress, becoming the beating cultural and intellectual centre of the Malay world, where figures like Raja Ali Haji anchored identity and thought, leaving a legacy that still ties its early seafaring roots, its Bugis heroism, and its flowering as a capital of ideas into one continuous arc of history.

Thank you Raje Farul and your friends, for guiding us.


Penyengat Island itself was once the royal seat of the Riau-Lingga Sultanate, a Malay kingdom that flourished during the 18th and 19th centuries. During this period, the rulers of Riau played a central role in navigating the political struggles of the Malay world, particularly in their encounters with European colonial powers. Though the island fell into decline after the sultanate dissolved in the early 20th century and remained abandoned for decades, efforts in recent years have restored much of its heritage, allowing visitors to reconnect with its glorious past.

Raja Ali Haji bin Raja Haji Ahmad

Among the treasures of Penyengat are the remains of the old palace, the royal tombs, and, most famously, the grave of Raja Ali Haji — a celebrated Malay scholar, historian, and poet. He is best remembered for writing Bustanu’s Salatin and Tuhfat al-Nafis, as well as compiling the first systematic grammar of the Malay language (Kitab Pengetahuan Bahasa) in 1850. His contributions ensured that Penyengat became not only a political centre but also a centre of intellectual and cultural life for the Malay world.


Today, the island stands as both a heritage site and a cultural landmark. The mosque is still in use, drawing worshippers and visitors alike, while the island itself tells a story of power, scholarship, and identity that continues to inspire Malays across the region.

Singapore Tourist Guide - Sarafian Salleh

Today, I’m overjoyed to share that I’ve renewed my Singapore Tourist Board license. The happiness I feel is just as fresh as it was three years ago, when I first passed my exams to earn it.

This renewal marks another three years of joy, responsibility, love, and heartfelt storytelling. Guiding has never been just a passion for me, it is a calling to share knowledge, history, and culture with sincerity and hope.

I look forward to continuing this journey, meeting new friends, and creating meaningful experiences together. Here’s to more stories, more laughter, and more discoveries ahead!

Thank you everyone who have always walked together with me.