The Li River is famous for its dramatic karst peaks and misty mornings, but one of its most iconic images is the humble bamboo raft carrying a fisherman and his cormorants. For centuries, this was not a show for tourists—it was a way of life. The fishermen used trained cormorants to catch fish in the clear, shallow waters of the river near Yangshuo and Guilin. Today, while the practice has largely shifted from daily survival to cultural performance, the sight of these fishermen working under lantern light remains one of the most powerful connections to China’s rural past.
What do Li River fishing boats actually look like
The boats used by Li River fishermen are simple but functional. They are long, narrow rafts made from bamboo poles lashed together. These rafts sit low on the water and can navigate the shallow, rocky sections of the river where motorboats cannot go. Each raft usually carries one or two men, a few cormorants perched on the front, and a lantern hanging from a pole. The fishermen wear conical bamboo hats and often a dark raincoat, even on sunny days, because they spend hours on the water. The birds themselves are large, dark, and look slightly prehistoric, with hooked beaks and a patient stare.
The real magic happens at dusk. The fishermen light the lanterns to attract fish toward the raft. The cormorants dive into the dark water, and when they surface, they have fish in their throats. A string tied loosely around the bird’s neck prevents it from swallowing larger fish, so the fisherman can reach into the bird’s beak and pull the catch out. This is not cruelty—the cormorants are fed smaller fish as a reward, and they are treated as working partners, not tools. The bond between man and bird is built over years of daily work.
Why do tourists still want to see fishing boats today
Visitors come to the Li River not just for the scenery, but for the feeling of stepping into an old painting. The fishing boats with their lanterns and cormorants offer exactly that. They represent a slower, quieter time before the world became digital and fast. For many foreign travelers, this is the China they imagined—not the skyscrapers of Shanghai, but the misty river valleys where people still live by the rhythm of the water.
The performance fishermen on the Li River understand this. They pose for photos, they let tourists hold the cormorants, and they paddle slowly so cameras can capture the reflection of the lanterns on the water. But there is honesty in their work. Many of these men grew up fishing this river. They know every rock and every current. Even though they now perform for crowds, the skills are real. The rafts are real. The birds are real. And when the last tourist leaves, they often paddle back home in the dark, just as their fathers and grandfathers did.
You can see these fishermen around the town of Yangshuo, especially near the village of Xingping, which is famous for the image on the 20 yuan note. The best time is late afternoon, just before sunset. You can hire a small boat to get closer, or simply walk along the riverbank. The fishermen do not speak much English, but they do not need to. The lanterns, the birds, and the silence do the talking.