There’s something post-apocalyptic about the fuel shortage in Bali.
One minute, all is as it should be. Next, the scooter you hired is running on fumes and cars are breaking down in the middle of the road. You wait hours for a taxi but never get one, while queues in front of petrol stations stretch for kilometres. But there’s no mushroom cloud on the horizon, no undead hordes stumbling down the streets — just an island gripped by fuel anxiety, panic buying and an army of fuel hoarders that popped up overnight to profit from everybody’s misery.
Welcome to Bali, the Island of the Gods.
CAUSE
The disruption of global energy markets associated with conflict in the Middle East certainly hasn’t helped things. But Bali has experienced fuel disruptions before. On those occasions, as is the case now, blame lies squarely on supply channel disruptions and limited reserves.
Indonesia’s national fuel reserves are sufficient for 16 to 18 days of supply, but in Bali the reserve usually lasts a few days to a week. It has to be shipped in from Java and Borneo, through poorly maintained and managed ports that leave little to no room for error. In this case, the disruption, which was first felt on Sunday, was caused by a faulty anchor cable and high seas that delayed a fuel tanker from docking for 15 hours. That’s all it took.
The shortage has been amplified by panic buying and hoarders, the latter of whom are buying fuel at stations in plastic bottles to resell. Doing so is as illegal as it is in Australia. But like many laws in Indonesia, it’s simply not enforced. Small bottles of fuel are being advertised for sale on social media for up to 80,000 IDR ($6.40), while tourists in the surf city of Canggu are paying up to 200,000 IDR ($16) for a 1.5-litre bottle filled with fuel.
EFFECT
The queues in front of petrol stations are just the icing on the cake of an island-wide disruption. It has affected everyone, though nobody harder than Bali’s working poor, who live hand-to-mouth. Imagine working 12 hours a day just to survive, and then, on top of that, you are queuing for 10 hours to fill up your scooter, which has a tiny four-litre fuel tank. If you work as a cleaner at a hotel, it might last you three or four days. But if you’re one of the tens of thousands of people who work for ride-hailing and delivery apps, you’ll need to queue up for fuel daily, or miss work and meals.
Then there’s the flow-on effect throughout the economy. Everything from rice, to detergent, to drinking water has to be delivered by road in Bali. Many stores are closed. Getting a taxi is very difficult unless you pay five or 10 or 20 times the going rate. Some tourists have missed their flights as a result.
Public servants have been told to work from home while schools have shut. About 50 per cent of vehicles are off the road but Bali’s notorious traffic is even worse than usual because of massive traffic bottlenecks that have formed outside petrol stations.
The stress has reached fever pitch in some places. There have been random acts of kindness – people giving free snacks and cold water to those simmering under the sun while waiting to fuel up. There have also been some rather nasty swearing matches between commuters. The supposition that Balinese people are somehow special and don’t get angry or violent is false.
SOLUTION
The problem with the anchor was solved relatively quickly but still left a big gap in the market. To help close it, Pertamina, Indonesia’s state-owned fuel supplier, scheduled staggered fuel tanker arrivals, shipping in 57.9 million litres of fuel to Bali between Wednesday and Saturday. That’s about 19 days’ supply. It also brought in additional fuel trucks on barges from Java and an extra 100 tanker crew members from Borneo.
Police are also doing their bit, escorting fuel tankers on the road to help their drivers bypass congestion. Police have also been posted at petrol stations throughout the island to keep the peace.
Pertamina has shifted to 24-hour operations at nearly 100 petrol stations across the island. But this has also had unintended negative consequences. Pump attendants are on edge after being forced to work night shifts without penalty rates, with excessive overtime and diminishing rest periods. During a recent visit to a busy petrol station by Governor Wayan Koster, a female pump attendant broke centuries of decorum and rank, screaming “I am not a robot!” at him.
With the extra fuel tankers now landing, Bali’s fuel crisis should be over or significantly diminished this week. If you are in Bali on holidays, don’t get your knickers in a knot over what is still a first-world problem in the third world for tourists. If you miss your plane, yes, it’s an inconvenience. But you’re unlikely to miss a meal.
