The old-school boats of Pak Sha Wan – Part 1: Family-run kaitos-on-demand

The old-school boats of Pak Sha Wan – Part 1: Family-run kaitos-on-demand

by City Unseen

In days past when Hong Kong was a fishing port, many fishermen lived on floating fish farms or on remote outlying islands. Over time, the term “kaito” came to refer specifically to small ferries linking rural areas and outlying islands. 

Today, the Transport Department classifies kaito into two types. The first type operates like regular ferries on fixed schedules with designated stops, mainly serving tourist hotspots or larger islands. These boats are classified by the Marine Department as Class I Local Vessels and are subject to higher safety standards (i.e. for ship stability) compared to other local vessel types. The second type are traditional small kaito operating in areas like Sai Kung and the inner waters of Pak Sha Wan (also known as Hebe Haven). These boats are classified as Class II transport vessels by the Marine Department. They typically do not have fixed schedules and often serve multiple islands or villages on a single route. 

Kaito license with approved passenger capacity displayed on board. 街渡船艙裡掛有列明允許運載總人數的牌照。

Kaito license with approved passenger capacity displayed on board. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

Kaito services in Sai Kung operate over two main areas. The first group departs from Sai Kung Pier to popular tourist destinations like Sharp Island and Hap Mun Bay. There is also a kaito service to Yim Tin Tsai run by the village office. These operators band together into syndicates so they can pool their boats and offer more frequent services on weekends on holidays. In recent years, government efforts to promote rural tourism, combined with pandemic-era travel restrictions, drew many visitors to Sai Kung. The authorities even put out public tenders to major ferry companies to operate licensed, scheduled kaito routes between Kau Sai, High Island, and Sai Kung Pier.

The second group of kaito operate in Pak Sha Wan, connecting destinations such as Trio Beach, Ma Lam Wat, nearby floating fish farms, and the scout camp at Sha Tsui. On weekdays, passengers include local residents, fish farmers, and beach lifeguards. On weekends and holidays, there are  swimmers, hikers, and scout groups. Most of these kaito services are family operated, and run on flexible schedules according to passenger needs. 

The notice board at Pak Sha Wan Pier is plastered with the contact information of numerous local kaito operators, but Ms. Yim, who runs the Yellow Boat Transportation Service kaito, says that in actuality there are only two companies left in Pak Sha Wan that run both scheduled and on-demand services, plus a third that operates on an on-demand basis only. She acknowledges that the kaito industry is struggling to survive amid enormous modern challenges.  

Kaito waiting for passengers at the Pak Sha Wan Public Pier. 正在白沙灣等候乘客的街渡。

Kaito waiting for passengers at the Pak Sha Wan Public Pier. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

The Origin of Kaito

In Hong Kong’s early days as a fishing port, fishermen living at sea or on outlying islands would go ashore to sell their catch and buy supplies. They called this “mai kai/seung kai” which means “going into town” or perhaps more literally, “hitting the streets”. The boats that ferried them back and forth were called “to”, which is Cantonese for “ferry”. Over time, the term kaito (literally, “street ferries”) emerged to describe the boats that linked fishermen and island residents to the mainland.

During the 1970s and 1980s, many Sai Kung fishermen began running kaito services to supplement their income. At the industry’s peak, more than a hundred kaito boats were in operation across Sai Kung and Pak Sha Wan. Ms. Yim, who inherited her family’s kaito business, explains that the industry once thrived because there were large permanent populations on many outlying islands, such as High Island and Kau Sai Chau. Moreover, Sai Kung has also long been a favourite destination for locals, with attractions like Sharp Island and Trio Beach drawing visitors for decades. In addition, the relatively low cost of boat maintenance at the time contributed to the industry’s growth.

 

Kaito waiting for passengers. 街渡客船正在碼頭等候乘客。

Kaito waiting for passengers. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

Kaito Services on Standby

Ms. Yim’s Yellow Boat Transportation Service shuttles between Hebe Haven, Ma Nam Wat, Trio Beach, and nearby floating fish farms. While there is no fixed schedule, boats typically run daily from 7 a.m. until early evening. The last run of the day depends on the closing time of  Trio Beach, typically 6 p.m. in summer and 5 p.m. in winter.

Sign showing kaito destinations. 標明街渡目的地的指示牌。

Sign showing kaito destinations. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

Kaito ferries wait on standby at Pak Sha Wan Pier. During the peak season, boats leave as soon as they fill up, otherwise they wait no more than 20 to 30 minutes. Passengers buy round-trip tickets when boarding; for the return trip, if no ferry arrives within 20 minutes—or if passengers are waiting on a private floating fish farm—they can call the kaito company to request a pickup.

As times have changed, younger generations from fishing families have increasingly pursued higher education, working on land or relocating to urban areas, leading to a decline in demand for kaito transport in fishing villages. According to Ms. Yim, only around 8 to 10 villagers or fishermen now ride the kaito every day. On winter weekdays, there are almost no passengers besides these regulars, though numbers rise to around 50 on holidays. During the peak season from June to August, weekday ridership ranges from 20 to 30, while holiday numbers can reach 80 to 90 a day. 

 

Twilight of the Kaito

In recent years, rising fuel prices, a decline in the number of boat repair yards, and falling passenger numbers have made it increasingly difficult to run kaitos. Some routes, such as those to Kau Sai and High Island, have been suspended for over a decade. The industry also faces a serious labour shortage. In Sai Kung and Pak Sha Wan, most kaito captains are now over the age of 70; those in their fifties and sixties are considered the young ones.

Idle kaito ferries in the bay. 在海灣上閒置的街渡船隻。

Idle kaito ferries in the bay. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

Operating a kaito requires a Coxswain Grade 3 Certificate. Besides the difficulty of obtaining a license, in the first place, the job involves long hours spent waiting at the pier for passengers, and for not a lot of pay. By contrast, working as a pleasure boat captain offers young sailors greater flexibility and better pay. One kaito in Pak Sha Wan now runs on a reservation-only basis, simply because it is so difficult to find a qualified captain. The Yims, who also operate a boat repair business, keep the kaito running more as a family tradition than for profit.

In recent years, the government has been actively promoting rural tourism. During the pandemic, border closures led many locals to go on outings to Sai Kung. However, once the borders reopened, visitor numbers dropped sharply, forcing ferry companies to scale back operations to weekends and holidays only.

Boat helm. 街渡的船舵。

Boat helm. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

At one point, the government once entered into negotiations with kaito operators to bring this traditional mode of transportation into the $2 Octopus discount scheme and other transport subsidies. However, many operators and captains, having spent their entire lives at sea, found it too difficult to use the Octopus card machines. Moreover, they found the system’s transaction fees were too high. Kaitos only see a lot of passengers in the summer, but would still have to pay the fees year-round, even during slow periods with few or no riders. The costs would have to be passed on to passengers, making the scheme financially unviable.

So, will these kaito ferries, with their nostalgic link to Hong Kong’s old fishing villages, eventually disappear? For Ms. Yim, operating kaitos is no longer about profit. She recalls how her great-uncle would run the ferry each morning, picking up villagers from Ma Lam Wat and sounding the horn to wake children up for school, building strong connections with the passengers. Up until the pandemic, they still charged villagers only HK$5 per trip. Even today, with the fare at HK$15, it is barely enough to cover costs given soaring fuel prices. Ms. Yim believes there may still be some demand for kaito services over the next decade. But with ageing captains and few newcomers entering the trade, many kaito services—at least those run by small family operators—are likely to fade away.

The contact numbers for the kaito ferries on the notice board at the pier have not been updated in years. In a few years, it is likely that even fewer operators will still be in business. Still, the kaito will set out again tomorrow morning, whether to take the few remaining elderly fishermen ashore for groceries or to ferry swimmers to Trio Beach, there are still people who rely on these humble boats to get where they need to go.

 

This article was written by contract researcher Ng Cheuk Hang.

Empty seats on a kaito. 街渡船上空置的座位

Empty seats on a kaito. Photo credit: Ng Cheuk Hang, 2025.

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