Recently, I wrote an introduction to the Cambodian Water Festival (here) and I thought it’d be cool to do a little digging through the French archives for some historical notes and see what comes up.
The first account I could track down was that by Louis Delaporte in his 1880 publication, Voyage au Cambodge. L’Architecture Khmer, where he briefly notes the water festival in passing when making a commentary on Neak Boun. His journey took place between 1866 and 1868, and it could be implied from the nature of its mentioning that it was well established, or a traditional event, and far from nouveau.
The first photo of a long boat comes from Emille Gsell without an exact date but somewhere between 1866 and 1868 which is used as the feature image for this post. Gsell worked alongside Ernest Doudart de Lagrée and Louis Delaporte.
In his 1883 publication, Le Royaume Cambodge, Jean Moura also mentions the event but without any detail, bar noting it among the nation’s major festivals and later, imagining that it may have once taken place in the very moat of Angkor Wat.
The first detailed description comes from Rear Admiral Paul Reveillère, published in 1892, Ça et là. Cochinchine et Cambodge. L’âme khmère. Ang-Kor. Troisième édition, documenting his visit to Phnom Penh on November 1, 1884. He would meet the Queen Mother on that day, quite interestingly noting that she chose to live in a beautiful boat moored by the palace. The following is an extract of his commentary, translated from French
The Water Festival’s events began with a lively procession of boats and royal barges, led by rowers standing upright as they maneuvered long oars mounted on high rowlocks, typical of Chinese and Annamite boats. The canoes, carved from single trees and carrying about fifty rowers each, were painted black with golden decorations. At the center of each crew stood a ‘jester’ who set the rowing rhythm with chants extolling his team’s strength, deriding opponents, and boasting of certain victory. His lively, often risqué stories were punctuated by the crew’s booming response, “Aïah!”
As the races began, pairs of canoes with fifty rowers each sped down the river like giant centipedes, slicing through the water with the strength of a torpedo, propelled by the frenzied cries of their teams. The red-robed judges declared the winners, pounding large drums in celebration.
In the evening, the river lit up with floating illuminations. A multitude of barges and canoes, adorned with papier-mache structures shaped like layered cakes, carried candles inside these peculiar, airy structures, creating an enchanting display of light. The Queen Mother personally lit the candles of the leading boats. Soon after, we received a gift basket filled with small fireworks, which, when set alight, floated on the water in intricate, sparkling patterns.
As the governor and his retinue joined in launching the fireworks, a playful spirit emerged, transforming the river into a cascade of colorful sparks. The entire scene—under the soft glow of the full moon reflecting on the Mekong, where bamboo houses on stilts lined the shore—was a magnificent, otherworldly sight.
An article in Travers Le Monde, 1904, notes how popular the event was with foreigners
In Phnom Penh, the capital, this occasion is marked by three days of magnificent regattas that draw European visitors. The colonists and officials’ wives take their places in royal boats adorned with velvet, gold, flowers, and greenery, transformed into luxurious viewing boxes.
The city is lively and bustling. The docks and streets are crowded with people from various Asian backgrounds—Chinese merchants, Indians in tight coats, Malays with pronounced features, and vibrant Cambodians and Cambodian women dressed in colorful silk scarves and adorned with jasmine or saffron-colored flowers. Monks in bright yellow robes move impassively through the crowd, while Cambodian guards, proud in white uniforms with red sashes, hold their ground.
The festivities unfold near the royal palace, where flag-adorned arches and flowered decorations are in place. A bamboo bridge extends to the royal and spectator boats. By four o’clock, the king is still with his harem, but the races begin with a cannon shot and the royal band, playing triumphant music.
Narrow, carved canoes appear, each with around forty paddlers standing or kneeling, paddling in sync to the beat of a comical chant led by a dancing figure in each boat. As the boats race two at a time, the powerful rowers propel their crafts at lightning speed, their voices echoing over the water. Victors are announced by the resounding beats of a tam-tam.
At dusk, hundreds of boats glide across the river, their songs softly accompanied by guitars. On the final day, following an ancient custom, the king ceremoniously cuts a symbolic strap to release the river’s flow to the sea, marking the festival’s close until the rains return.
Charles Carpeaux left a short note in his travel journal and two photograpghs, Les ruines d’Angkor, de Duong-Duong et de Myson (Cambodge et Annam) : lettres, journal de route et clichés photographiques, published in 1908, about his experience on November 24, 1901.
Today, Water Festival, canoe races each led by thirty rowers, sitting or standing. Arriving at the goal, magnificent! These large twenty-meter boats speed like torpedo boats. At the front, a trainer brandishes a paddle. Howls of joy from the winners. We are, with the admiral and the senior resident, anchored opposite the Lutin, on which we will embark at ten o’clock in the evening following the admiral.
The most fascinating and detailed account of the Water Festival comes from Adhémard Leclère who was, among many things, a governor during the era of the French protectorate of Cambodia.
In his 1904 account, La fête des eaux à Phnom-Penh, Leclère captures the allure of this timeless festival, he records to be known locally at that time as thvoeu bon pranah tuk no, or as the French would have it Fete des eaux or festival of the boat races, which holds Cambodia’s past and present in delicate balance.
Leclère leads us first to the Tonlé Sap riverbank, alive with motion and ceremony. Here, from the 13th to the 15th day of the waxing moon in the month of Asoch1, the waters teem with slender, high-prowed pirogues—longboats carved from single trunks—poised to race. The city’s river transforms into a glistening stage, reflecting the colourfully adorned vessels and crowds dressed in celebration. Alongside these festive visuals, Leclère notes a tone of devotion among the people, drawn by tradition and faith as they pay homage to the natural cycle marking the end of monsoon rains.
The festival is not merely an occasion for sport but a complex web of ritual and reverence. Leclère, with the eye of both an administrator and an admirer, observes how ancient beliefs entwine with the everyday lives of Cambodians. This period, he notes, coincides with the closing of the Vassa, the Buddhist season of monk retreat and rainy season fasting.
He notes the ceremonial moment that arises as the king himself approaches, radiant in richly textured attire—a sampot of fine silk, a glittering belt bearing a magnificent emerald buckle, and a white coat buttoned with gold. His presence is as much a symbol as it is a spectacle, embodying the continuity of Cambodia’s royal and spiritual lineage.
He also notes the colourful wit of the jesters aboard the long boats who delighted the crowds with their teasing songs and cheeky commentary, sparing no one from their sharp tongues. Their role was to entertain and, in some way, to speak the unspeakable, poking fun at cultural quirks, foreigners, and even the king himself. For example, comparing the beauty standards between Cambodian and French women: “Your women are fair, oh Frenchmen, their skin pale and lovely, but their noses are so long! Our women may be darker, less beautiful perhaps, but their noses are short, just as they should be!”
Leclère also describes in detail the “cutting of the sacred strap”, a ritual so deeply embedded in legend that its origin, even in 1904, was shrouded in mystery. He tells of a strap held taut across the river by two bakus 2, one end in each hand, ready to be cut by a ceremonial sword. The king’s gesture here is thought to be an invitation for the waters to recede, linking royal authority with the seasonal flood—a tradition seemingly ancient yet difficult to place. For Leclère, this ritualized control of water embodies both Cambodia’s close connection with its rivers and a mystical belief in the king’s divine right to command nature itself. Yet, he notes, the local people see a different message here: it is a display of gratitude to the Earth and Water deities for their gift of life-giving floods and an expression of regret for any pollution left in their waters.
Leclère’s intrigue extends to the evening’s Loy Pratip, or “floating lanterns,” where families send miniature rafts down the river, each adorned with candles and fragrant offerings. As the lights drift downstream, Leclère rightly imagines them as carrying prayers and hopes, messages to ancestral spirits. The scent of burning incense mingles with river mist, creating an atmosphere that seems to him otherworldly, a connection to realms unseen yet felt.
Whilst many today correlate the origin of the event to the French era, Lecelere notes it as being something of a mystery noting a legend that surrounded the event’s founding. Legend has it, that a person of the royal court (raja) named preah bat samdach maha Prakam, surrounded by purohitas3, acaryas4, pandits 5 and all the members of the royal family, on the proposal of a tutor of the kingdom, or prime minister, learned and illustrious, whose name was Thmen-chey.
Leclère’s view, the Water Festival was a relic of Cambodia’s layered spirituality—a continuity of belief in sacred kingship, ancient spirits, and divine forces that remain profoundly woven into the fabric of life. For all its history, though, the Water Festival in 1904 was also a living festival, where humor and humility flourished alongside reverence. As long boats dashed across the water, villagers jested, sending playful jibes at each other, the French residents, and even the king himself—a reminder that Cambodia, even in sacred moments, kept joy close at hand.
Historical Images
Two French seaplanes based out of Saigon flew over the Water Festival in Phnom Penh capturing this amazing shot. Published in 1937, Revue des forces aériennes : organe des aéronautiques militaire, navale et coloniale et de leurs réserves.
King Norodom Sihanouk at the Water Festival, 1949. Published in Radar : le tour du monde. Translation:
The Brahmins pay homage to the King of Cambodia by presenting him with lit candles that symbolize the Eternal Light. This ceremony is one of the phases of the Water Festival that takes place in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. Its purpose is to thank the gods for the blessing of the autumn floods in the Mekong Delta. These floods, in fact, considerably increase the volume of Lake Tônlé Sap. The waters of the latter invade the land where fisheries dams are installed. Result: Cambodia exports 25,000 tonnes of dried fish per year.
Colonial Era Postcards
These can be found for sale online (like eBay etc). They appear to date to the early-mid 1900s.
Footnotes
- Asoch, Pali: Assayuja – A Theravada Buddhist term denoting the month the Buddha descended from the second heaven after teaching his mother the Dharma. ↩︎
- Purohitas: Hindu priest, advisor, head of ceremonies ↩︎
- Acrayas: religious teachers, spiritual guides ↩︎
- Pandit: expert in religious law, scriptures, the Dharma ↩︎