Yeoh and Lim Jetty, George town

7 days in Malaysia- 6/16- 6/21/2024

Day 6 -Yeoh Jetty-6/20/2024

Next, we are heading toward Yeoh Jetty, and the atmosphere shifts again, quieter, simpler, and more personal compared to the busier jetties you visited earlier.

Yeoh Jetty is one of the Clan Jetties of George Town, originally established by members of the Yeoh clan, a Chinese clan community that settled along Penang’s waterfront in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Like the other clan jetties, it was built on stilts over the sea, allowing families to live close to their work, fishing, trading, and transporting goods—while maintaining strong clan ties. Unlike Chew Jetty, Yeoh Jetty has remained less commercialized, preserving a more residential feel.

Entering Yeoh Jetty, you step onto a long wooden walkway that stretches straight ahead. The boards feel weathered underfoot, and the pace naturally slows. On both sides, the houses are modest and practical, simple wooden structures, some with corrugated roofs, potted plants, and small personal touches. There are few souvenir shops, if any, and the jetty feels lived-in rather than staged.

At the end of the walkway, the space suddenly opens up. The tight corridor of houses gives way to a wide, open view of the waterfront.

The sea stretches out ahead, and the breeze feels stronger and fresher. It’s a simple but powerful moment, the reward at the end of the walk.

Nearby, a small shrine sits quietly, modest and personal, grounding the space spiritually. A flag flutters in the wind, adding movement and life to the stillness, marking the presence of community and belief even at the edge of the water.

Standing at the end of the boardwalk, just before the curved walkway that arcs out into the water.

The curved walkway feels symbolic as much as practical. Instead of continuing in a rigid line, it gently bends toward the sea, softening the transition from village to open water.

Curves in waterfront structures often respond to tides, currents, and wind, but here it also feels contemplative, encouraging you to slow down, look around, and take in the view rather than rush forward.

To the right the view of Hean Boo Thean Temple is especially striking, probably the closest and most vivid of all the jetties we visited.

Standing at the curve, the temple feels almost within reach. Hean Boo Thean is intensely colorful, with bright reds, golds, and decorative details that stand out against the sea and sky. Seen from the water, the temple feels protective and watchful, as if it has been overlooking the jetties and the shoreline for generations. From this angle, its presence feels intimate rather than distant, woven directly into daily waterfront life.

At the end of the curved walkway, there is a small platform that opens everything up. Looking straight ahead, the horizon is lined with buildings, stretching across the waterfront, modern structures, older blocks, and silhouettes layered together. It’s a powerful contrast: the humble wooden jetty beneath our feet, and the dense urban skyline in front of us.

As we turned back to return, we noticed the last row of houses lining the water, painted in brown and blue.

Their colors echo the natural tones around them, wood, sea, and sky, and they feel especially quiet from this angle, almost reflective. This final stretch feels like a summary of the jetty itself: modest, resilient, and deeply connected to the water.

Stopping to take a panoramic photo feels natural. From this spot, everything comes together the curved walkway, the houses, and the wide horizon capturing not just a view, but the feeling of standing at the edge of George Town, where history, community, and the sea meet.

Lim Jetty

Next, we are making our way toward Lim Jetty, and the approach already feels different. Passing by souvenir shops.

They are selling clothes, bags, and small nick-knacks, the area feels busier and more commercial, with the energy of visitors moving between the jetties and the main road.

As we reached Weld Quay, there is a temple near the entrance to Lim Jetty.

It feels like a quiet marker at the threshold, small but meaningful, signaling that even here, at the edge of the waterfront and the bustle of traffic, spiritual life remains closely tied to the community. The temple acts almost like a guardian for the jetty, blessing those who live and pass through it.

Entering Lim Jetty, the mood settles again. Like the other clan jetties, it stretches out over the water on a wooden walkway.

Lim Jetty feels more functional and lived-in than decorative.

The houses along the path are simple and practical, closely packed, with personal touches, plants, laundry, doors left open that quietly reveal everyday life. Compared to Chew Jetty, there are fewer shops, and compared to Yeoh Jetty, it feels slightly busier but still very much residential.

As we moved further in, the sea appear between the houses, and the light grows brighter toward the end of the jetty. The experience is less about spectacle and more about rhythm, walking, observing, and sensing how these homes continue to exist between land and water.

Along the edge of the wooden walkway, small boats are docked right next to the houses.

These aren’t tourist boats, they’re clearly working boats, used for fishing and daily transport. Inside, you can see tools, nets, containers, and supplies, practical and well-worn, suggesting routines that haven’t changed much over time. The boats feel like an extension of the homes themselves, tied up just a few steps from the front door.

View from the walkway.

Toward the end of the walkway, there is a long, covered bridge. This structure is mainly functional: it provides shade from the sun and shelter from rain, and it connects residents more comfortably between sections of the jetty. Covered walkways are common in places like this, where weather can be harsh and daily movement continues regardless of rain or heat.

Looking further, we see the backs of the houses, more private and intimate than the front façades. Clothes hang out to dry, personal items are tucked into corners, and small details, chairs, plants, storage bins, quietly reveal family life unfolding above the water.

Finally, we reached an area that looks like a communal eating or gathering space, enclosed with red poles or railings.

This space likely serves as a shared area for meals, conversation, or small community events, a place where neighbors come together at the end of the day. The red color, common in Chinese culture, suggests warmth, protection, and good fortune, fitting for a space meant to bring people together.

Penang Bridge is the first Penang Bridge, officially opened in 1985, and for many years it was one of the longest bridges in Southeast Asia. It stretches about 8.4 miles, connecting George Town on Penang Island to Seberang Perai on the mainland.

We are now leaving the Jetty.

This part of Lim Jetty feels especially honest and intimate, less about history on display, and more about how people still live, work, eat, and share space right at the water’s edge.