A walk in the Malaysian jungle

After leaving India and arriving in Bangkok I travelled straight to Malaysia where I intended to spend a few weeks relaxing after being ill in Kolkata. I arrived in Kota Baru just over the border form Thailand and found a guest house where I spent a couple of days deciding where to go next. The guys at the guest house recommended the Perethian Islands but after having been in the Andamans recently I settled on Taman Negara national park as I really wanted to spent a while walking and see some of the ancient karst landforms as well as the magnificent forest.


While in Kota Baru I visited the market to pass the time while waiting to catch the train to Jerantut, the closest main town to Taman Negara. Anything is available in the market and I wished I had had a stove so I could buy some fresh ingredients to cook up. There is a vast array of sea food available including trevally, snapper, cuttlefish, prawns, shark and turtle eggs, which go for around 5 ringit each. Theres also a vast range of fruit and vegetables, most of which the average european wouldn't recognise including the ubiquitous durian.

I took the half past six "jungle train" from Kota baru to Jerantut which took around six hours, mainly passing through beautiful forest but also less admirable palm oil plantations. I managed to get a seat by the window and spent the whole six hours watching myriads of butterflies and birds flitting past the window. I was pleased when I caught sight of the first birdwing I had seen since leaving India. The train stopped at all the small villages along the route and I thought how nice it would be to pass through this area without having to rely on the train or buses as I had thought many times before.

On arrival in Jerantut I checked in at a hotel and found out a bit about Taman Negara and that it was possible to take a boat the next morning from Kuala Tembling up the Sungai Tembeling to the park headquarters. The Boat journey took around three and a half hours and from start to finish gave the best scenery I have seen on a trip. Pristine forest cloaked the river banks on either side of the river, occasionally broken by a sandbank on the apex of a bend. I spotted a group of twelve or thirteen otters playing on one of the sandbanks and asked the boat driver to slow a bit as it made for great viewing.


The park headquarters is situated on the left hand side of the river, with a small village and floating restaurants on the other bank. I had travelled up river with Paul, an English guy I had met in Jerantut. We ate some food at one of the restaurants by the river before stocking up with provisions at the village shop for the next few days in the forest. We both had hammocks and agreed to sleep in the campsite over at the headquarters where we could also rent a stove and other bits and pieces for cooking. It turned out the campsite was probably the best place to view the forest's wildlife as certain species have become very tame and the abundance of lights bring down the nocturnal insects.

We woke the following morning to a group of wild pigs grazing the short grass, oblivious to our presence and it was only when I moved my head that they trotted a short distance before resuming their morning meal. The night before I had seen some eyes shining in the tree near my hammock. These turned out to belong to a Slow Loris that had been gorging on confused insects drawn to a nearby light. The night was full of sounds of resident cicadas and crickets amongst the larger species of forest animals.

Taman Negara is a large reserve, with an area of 4,343 square kilometres and is mostly made up of rainforest which is reputed to be the oldest on earth. The park is home to an amazing aray of fauna and flora including Tigers, Sumatran Rhinoceros and the strange looking Tapir. There are many plant species of note in this amazingly diverse area including the Tualung, a tree that can reach over 80 metres in height, supported by giant buttresses and the rafflesia renowned for having the largest flowers in the world. The Rafflesia is an endoparasite, having no stems, leaves or true roots and deriving all sustenance from various species of vines. The putrid smell of the massive flower is usually encountered before sighting the flower, and helps in pollination purposes.

Paul and I left early in the morning and walked 11km to a hide where we were told sightings of tapir and other animals were frequent. Although it was early morning, within ten minutes of leaving we were both soaked with sweat from head to toe. We caught sight of a small cat disappearing into the thick vegetation but couldn't identify it from this fleeting glimpse. The path followed the edge of the river and made for hard going as many small rivulets joined the main flow creating deep root strewn gulleys that needed considerable effort to climb through. I carried a relatively large rucksack as I planned to stay in the forest for a while and do some fishing. At this point I was wondering whether I should have travelled lighter. We saw some massive trees on the first day whose buttresses made perfect places to lean up and rest.

We eventually arrived at the hide and were joined by a few other people wanting to see some wildlife. The hide potentially sleeps twelve and is raised high above the ground giving a view over a clearing where supposedly there is a salt lick although I had my doubts whether the salt was ever replenished. We watched at dusk for any animals and saw one pig and heard some gibbons in the distance. Paul and I cooked a tasty beef curry while everyone else munched on biscuits, having come only for one night. I strung my hammock up from the rafters and went to sleep while some of the guys sat and shone their tiny torches into the darkness for hours hoping to glimpse something walking by. I didn't bother to tell them they were wasting their time and that they should have brought night vision equipment or proper torches!

During the night we were bothered by the resident jungle rats that were intent on eating all our food. These rats, though extremely annoying are very good looking. They are dark brown with a light beige stomach and a tail at least a foot long enabling them to climb anywhere they please. After hanging my food from string I got some sleep but was soon woken by a rustling and greeted by a rat sticking his head out of my food bag. After a right upper cut and a length of fishing line the problem was solved and suddenly everyone who was stranded on their bunkbeds wanted some line too. For the rest of the night while I was awake I could feel the rats trotting up and down my hammock strings, but left them to it and got some sleep.


The next day Paul and I took a walk to the river for some fishing. It was four km's and didn't take long to reach the old wooden chalets at Kuala Tahan all of which have been abandoned apart from one where a caretaker stays. Its a beautiful place perched above the river on a large bend giving a great view of the surrounding forest. The flower beds and lush lawns are slowly reverting back to forest while the chalets are being taken over by bats and squirrels. We spoke to the caretaker who told us he had personally landed fish of 50kg from the jetty below the gardens. This bit of information gave us confidence but due to the river being in flood I knew it would be hard going catching a fish without decent bait. We collected a can full of worms from the old overgrown flower beds before going down stream to a sand bank where we fished. There were plenty of small fish biting straight away but I had no hooks small enough to secure a few for bait. After an hour, with the sun high in the sky we ditched the fishing and instead swam in the warm flood water.

In the central flow it was possible to get carried down over the small rapids before swimming back to the edge and returning to our sand bank. I sunbathed on a large log caught in mid river and wandered what the Malaysians, passing occasionally in boats, were thinking, seeing us here in the middle of nowhere lounging in the river.

The next night we spent in the hide again and still didn't see any of the shy Tapirs. Paul left the next morning for Singapore and I decided to go further into the forest to look for some of the caves and side streams where better fishing may be found. Chris, a German guy who had arrived the first night joined me for the walk. We walked for half the day and found a cave after around 12-14 km. The Cave was situated around twenty feet up the side of a weathered limestone pinnacle and had a perfect view over the path below. A tricky climb through a large hole in the limestone gave access to the hollow which was more like a giant ledge in the rock than a cave. It was a perfect place to spend the night so we left our things and went in search of a larger cave 6 km away. We saw tapir tracks not far down the path which gave us hope that we might see some animals that night as we were placed in such a good spot.

The cave we found was massive, probably nearly half the size of a football pitch and was hollowed out at the base of a huge limestone pinnacle. There were two entrances, one obviously used by walkers who must often spend the night in the cave while the other was less well used and had vegetation dripping down from above. One corner was full of bats while it appeared most of the floor was soft with compacted bat guano. The cave was pretty spooky by daylight and looked like a most uncomfortable place to spend the night so we were glad we were pitched where we had. We walked back to the original cave where we had left our bags and on the way passed a troop of gibbons that were busy whooping at another troop some distance away. We stopped and listened for ten minutes, seeing a couple of them high up in the branches before walking on again as the light was starting to dwindling.

The cave we were sleeping in had some holes in the ceiling that had been eroded in the limestone which made perfect hanging points for my hammock. Chris slept on the ground with the jungle rats for company, which live in deep holes that disappear into the limestone. After a tasty curry we lay listening to the sounds of the jungle waiting for any animals to pass by on the path directly below us. We heard nothing but cicadas and other insects. Some of the noises at night are incredible and have to be heard to be believed. One species of cicada sounded exactly the same as the alarm clock on my old mobile phone. As you can guess this little pest woke me up many time through the night! As all the insects join chorus the sound becomes very intense and almost deafening before stopping dead and then resuming.


The next morning we woke to the heavy flapping of a group of giant hornbills flying overhead. These birds are incredibly noisy flyers and surprisingly can be heard from quite a distance in the forest. To get a good view of one is another matter though. We walked another fifteen km and visited another cave on route to Kuala Keniam. This cave wasn't as large as the one the day before but had a huge colony of bats, reached by climbing up a steep gully through the rock. When we arrived I saw a couple of bat hawks fly from the cave and quickly vanish. Near the cave was the biggest tree we had seen in the forest, a true giant. As we emerged from the cave a couple of 'trekkers' turned up with their Malaysian guide and seemed pretty surprised to see us so far into the forest without our own guide. We said our hellos and departed for the river.



We reached Kuala Keniam just after noon and were greeted by more beautiful wooden chalets that were being swallowed by the encroaching jungle. These had obviously been abandoned for a longer period than the ones we had seen down stream and were in a severe state of decay. The area would have been beautiful in its day. As much light reached the ground the vegetation was low and lush, attracting many butterflies and birds. Graphiums, other large swallowtails, beautiful hairstreaks and the occasional southern birdwing with its huge yellow and black wings flitted all over the area occasionally stopping for a drink of nectar at some Lanata or one of the old hibiscus flowers.



Chris had decided to go back to headquarters as his time was running out to get back to Germany so I deceided to join him before returning and continuing upstream to Kuala Perkai for some fishing. We sat down at the river under a big fig tree, that was continuously dropping ripe orange and red figs at our feet, and waited for a boat. A fish kept chasing fry into the shallows but evaded me when I tried to catch it. On our bank were some huge tracks made by a Gaur that had come for a drink and wallow in the cool river water. We sat for a couple of hours and slowly realised we must have missed any boats going down stream as they all passed us going the wrong way! On the far bank of the bend we sat on a huge sand bank where we could see a tiny speed boat parked up. The owner soon appeared and we waved him over to our side. As our Malay wasn't so good we made do with the sandy bank to help arrange what we wanted and after much scribbling in the sand we were off down stream.


The size of the small blue boat didn't fill us with confidence as it was just big enough for all of us and having seen some of the large rapids downstream we wondered what our fate might be. It didn't help when our friend the boat driver Raul shouted to me and asked with a big grin all over his face, whether I could swim. I smiled back and proceeded to wrap my camera up while Chris looked decidedly unhappy! We skipped down the river with the outboard purring behind us. It was great to see the forest we had walked through from a different perspective and we saw how far we had walked. The first rapid approaced and Raul picked his line carefully through the white water and we continued on without incident. After about half an hour the engine spluttered to a stop as the petrol was finished. The boat drifted silently down the river while we tipped the large tank on its side to make use of the last few drops. The engine roared back into life and we continued for another ten minutes before pulling up at a small jetty where four young boys were fishing. Raul jumped out and returned shortly with a coke bottle full of fuel, we were on our way again.


The trip took around an hour and a half and as we went Raul pointed out all the good fishing spots to me. They looked perfect for holding large Malaysian Mahseer. Lower down the river I had seen many fish traps placed in the margins of the river. These consisted of large cages built from stout sticks with a door on one end. As a big fish swims in it triggers a release mechanism and the door falls shut, trapping the fish. Judging by the size of these traps they are designed for large fish such as catfish and mahseer. At one shallow section of the river we passed three guys wading in the fast water created by the rock strewn river bed. It looked as if they may be swept away at any moment but they were sure footed due to many years of practice. Here they carefully threw their cast nets for fish that was obviously very sought after.

Back at park headquarters I said goodbye to Chris and loaded up with some more food and then set off back upstream with Raul after picking up some more petrol from the floating fuel station. It made for slower going heading up river and the rapids tended to shake the little boat much more than before, but Raul was obviously experienced and had passed this way all his life. I got dropped at Kuala Keniam and tried to tell Raul I might require his services in a weeks time. He went back across the river and joined his four rubber tapping friends that were staying for four months tapping the surrounding rubber trees in the plantation some five km away on the far bank.

I set my hammock up on the verandah of one of the abandoned chalets where I had a lovely view of the river and cooked an evening meal of curry and rice. For the evening I fished down at the river using some dates I had and the fallen figs as bait. I didn't have any bites and after a few hours retired to my hammock for some sleep after removing the leeches from my legs. Up until this point I had had around 150 leeches trying to get at my blood, but luckily quite a few were removed before they had a chance of doing too much damage. As I was dozing off a huge tree perhaps two hundred metres away crashed to the ground, for no particular reason apart from being old and top heavy. It was an awesome noise breaking the quiet of the night and silenced most of the jungle folk for a few minutes before the chorus started again.


When I woke the next morning I noticed a small bird sitting in its nest, not more than two metres from me in the vegetation below the verandah. She didn't seem too bothered by me during my stay and stared at me as much as I stared back.

unfinished

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In search of the Mahseer

Many fisherman dream about catching the famous mahseer that is found throughout India, Burma and further south to malaysia. India of course is where most pursuers chase the mighty mahseer. After feeding large mahseer from a pilgrim bridge in north India around three years ago I had been desperate to get a chance to land one. I had read about these fish years before and the sight of a huge shoal battling for bits of dough made me more keen than ever.

After Ken had headed back to England I left the barramundi grounds and headed to south India for the mahseer season was fast approaching. I intended to find a suitable place to fish in the new year, when Ken would hopefully be able to join me and also fulfill his dream of landing a mahseer. I naturally headed for Bangalore and the Kaveri but after finding out that the price of establised fishing camps were way above my budget I headed further afield. I had the good luck of coming across one of the most amiable guides that I have met. Kiran put me in touch with the owner of a stretch of the kaveri where he assured me big, big fish lived. We spent a day touring the area and visiting the river by motorbike.

The Magnificent Kaveri/Cauvery River  still waking in
                               the early morning

The river was some distance from my base and took about an hour to reach by motorbike. It was a very cold morning and both Kiran and I were shivering by the time we arrived, having misjudged the amount of cloths to wear. Around 4 km before arriving at the fishing area the beautiful Kaveri River came into view, snaking through the trees with thick mist rising from the warm water. It was a lovely sight and looked perfect for mahseer.

Reflections on The Kaveri

A wide River slowly flowed east passing through the Karnatakan jungle on its course for the Indian ocean, some five or six hundred kilometres away. On the far bank was Indian jungle proper, deciduous forest dotted with huge clumps of seventy foot tall bamboo that creaked and groaned in the slightest breeze. Apparently tigers still roamed in this large tract of unbothered forest, Elephants and leopards were there for sure along with deer, gaur and troops of lanky grey langurs. On the near bank land use was a little different; behind a barrier of large river side trees that included huge old wild mangoes lay rice paddies and field of ginger and still further away the coffee and pepper plantations grew.

Bamboo forest, Karnataka

Under the waters surface it wasn't just the mahseer that lurked. Big mugger crocodiles called the river home and seemed to go about their business without bothering anyone. Amazingly a couple of locals regularly swam in the river for exercise and of course some areas of the river is used by villagers for washing. Kids splash and play with no care for the big scaly reptiles that might be hiding below.

The large resident mugger crocodile decides to make an exit

Going....

Gone!

On this short excursion to the Kaveri I didn't have time to fish but knew that soon we could be back and see what lurked below the river surface. An English guy, I met and had lunch with confirmed that plenty of good fish swam the waters and just in the previous days he had caught mahseer to just shy of 50lb on ragi.  It was extremely hard to leave such a good looking fishing spot but my time would come I hoped.

The local kids seemed pretty keen to have their photos taken!

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A trip for Indian barramundi

After being in India for a couple of weeks I arrived on the west coast and was greeted by the arabian sea and its fresh white breakers. I had been looking forward to this this day since arriving as it meant at last there was a chance of catching some fish. After stashing my things in the tent I took a walk down the beach to asses the potential to land a couple of fish. I hadn't gone far when I saw a large sand shark/guitar fish scoot out of the shallows and into the froth of the surf. I continued to see more of these and counted around twelve before I reached a small river that had formed a large area of flat sand at its mouth. This place was frequented with the sand sharks, patrolling in ones and twos, searching for crabs and other tasty morsels.

Seagulls leave the beach on the Konkan coast, Maharashtra.

I was back at the river mouth early next day and saw more sharks as well a many fish of between 1-2kg sitting far out in the breakers. I waded around the shallow area in water 2-3ft deep at the river mouth trying to spot fish and tempt a variety of lures. For the first half an hour all that showed was the sharks as I spooked them from their resting places. I then saw what I thought was a fish but turned out to be some guys' underpants that had floated down from the river mouth. A minute later I could see his trousers approaching through the water and wondered to myself what sort of accident he must have had to discard these too! I pulled my lure out the way and went for a closer inspection. I was shocked to see a barramundi of around 25kg peering back at me with her big ruby eyes. In a second the fish was gone. And this was to be the last time i saw a barra for a couple of weeks.

Casualty of a fishing net?

The next day I had planned to move further south down the coast. I spent the rest of the day walking and admiring the beach. I spotted numerous different species of birds and even a camel wandering aimlessly around. An olive Ridley turtle (Lepidochelys olivacea) was washed up dead on the sand, probably a casulty of one of the many fishing boats out as sea. While I was passing a pack of dogs arrived and sniffed the corpse before proceeding to go for a swim.

Dogs out on beach patrol

On the Train I travelled 150km south and once again arrived at a glorious beach. I planned to stay here for a few weeks over christmas so would have a chance to get to grips with the fishing and maybe bag myself a barramundi! After a couple of days of sussing the place out I met another fishing nut, Ken. After a few days talking fish, we planned a trip to the local river mouth targetting the barramundi. Ken had caught a few barra before and seemed to be on the ball when it came to lures and technique. He was friends with a couple of local fisherman, Agnelo and Asok, who would join us on the beach for the evening session.

Ganpatipule beach, Maharashtra

The first trip saw only Ken hook a fish out of seven people fishing. The fish took a silver bomber with 3x strength trebles fitted. I walked over to see what he had and the fishing was taking lots of line and not seeming to slow at all despite a fairly solid drag setting. Ken asked me to fetch the scales and camera from up the beach and on my return thirty seconds later line was still being torn off the spool. After a few more heart stopping seconds the line appeared to snap. On retrival we found the line hadn't broken but two of the treble hoohs had been straightened. Of course we were both gutted to lose such a big fish and as it turned out that was the only bite of the evening.

Fishing for barramundi, North Goa

The next day we were back and fished with sardines. Within ten mintutes my rod wrenched over and I struck into a solid fish which proceeded to tear off  70-80 metres of line, before stopping dead. we all agreeded it was a big ray and tryed to handline it up but the line gave way before it would move. I went on to catch two small catfish anda local landed a beautiful 7kg barramundi on a lure. I had quickly started to feel unwell after drinking some pretty suspect water, which led to me spending a couple of days resting up and drinking funny medicinal potions concocted by the family that I was staying with.

After some good rest I felt ready for another go at the barramundi and by now I was itching to catch one after seeing the one caught during the previous trip. Ken and I arranged to go to a small estuary with Agnelo and Asok that was 40 minutes drive up the coast. Agnelo is a taxi triver sowe all piled into his little maruti van and set off just before dusk. Ken had been to this estuary on a previous trip and described it to me as we drove through the evening. He told me how last time his light spinning rod had been snapped clean in half by a savage take on the plastic prawn he was fishing. The excitment was growing as we neared the beach, agnelo stopped for bananas to offer in puja for good fishing and asok had brought sugar along for the same reason.

Agnelo and a big barra caught while I was on sick leave, North Goa.

We parked the van and made our way for around 1km down the moonlit beach over sand that creaked underfoot until we at the river mouth. We planned to rest for a while until the tide was at a suitable stage and the moon had reached high enough in the sky to allow the fish to pick out our lures. it was a beauitful clear and bright night without a man made light in view. occasionally a fruit bat passed silently above our heads and dissapeared over the silver trees.

Coconut sellers, Konkan coast

After an hour or so we started to work our lures across the river through an incoming tide. We all used wire traces apart from ken who had a clear mono leader and needless to say he landed the first barramundi of around 3kg. It turned out be a short window when the fish were biting and seven were landed in total to 5kg, four to ken and one to the rest of us. I had finally caught my first barra which had taken a jointed pink bomber. It was only small at around 2kg but made me one very happy angler. I took a long while to admire the beautiful bronze and pink light being reflected form her scales and her big ruby coloured eyes. The results that evening showed these big eyes must be pretty sensitve to the leader material so for future trips clear mono would be the choice.

My first Indian Barramundi that nailed a jointed bomber.

As we headed back Agnelo instructed us to be silent when we reached the van. If we were heard, the police man that lived in the only house in the area which happened to be where we had to park would be out and demand baksheesh in the form of the fish we had caught! we went quietly like a bunch of  kids sneaking out of school and took off up the road before stopping after some distance to shut the boot and close the doors. You have to love india! Just after one in the morning we reached the large river where a ferry was needed to carry us across. Of course it was resting on the far bank with not a light to be seen. After much vigorouis use of the Agnelo's horn, the boat slowly came to life and crawled across the river to pick us up. There were some very bleary eyed crew aboard that didn't look too happy, but after a few rupees were passed over, we made our way across the river and back home.

Our next attempt to catch a barramundi turned out to be the most exciting yet. Ken and I drove with Agnelo up to the large estuary just before dusk. On arrival Agnelo stopped at a small restaurant to get some food, while Ken and I carried on down to the mouth of the river. On arrival we were a little dissapointed to see around ten locals casting lures from the sand spit. The local guys have caught on to this sort of fishing after seeing the tourists using it to good effect. Unfortunately they cannot usually afford lighter gear like we use and often end up casting lures with a heavy beach rod for hours on end. They must be admired for this, as even casting for ten minutes with a rod like this is enough to tire anyone out. Also they are afraid of losing fish on a lighter rod and will also not be convinced to use a mono trace as they fear the fish will bite through it.

As most of the spit was taken up by fishermen, Ken and I decided to fish in the slack water behind the sand where there was a bit room to manoeuvre. We were pleased to see one guy had landed a barramundi of around 4kg, although for ten people who had probably fished for a couple of hours, this was not such a good result.

My first big barramundi in India..11kg of silver muscle!

After only a few casts we had both had touches from fish. we looked at each other both wondering what might happen in the coming hours. On my ninth or tenth cast I felt a slight tap before my rod arched over so I struck into a big fish that quickly started taking of lots of line. Within ten seconds we both saw a big barramundi launch itself out of the water around 50-60 yards from the spit. She flew three or four feet into the air, shaking her head with much anger. It was quite a sight in the early eveing moonlight; her flanks shone brilliant silver. By this time my heart was in my mouth and I was shaking, willing the hook to hold and the fish not to abrade the mono leader. Most of the other fishermen had now stopped fishing and were watching while ken readied himself to land the fish if I was lucky enough to get it in. After four more spectacular jumps I brought the barramundi to the waves and Ken pushed her up the beach as a wave helped. After a very speedy photo and weighing we resumed fishing. The baramundi weighed 11kg, a new personal best by a long way!

Within a minute of throwing our lures back out, Ken struck into a good fish that took some line before throwing the hooks. He was however in luck, for after only a few more casts Ken had a savage take and lost lots of line in a few seconds. The fish was at considerable range upstream and did not seem too pleased at having a hook in it's mouth. After one jump the line went slack and that was that. It was a good fish and could also have been a new personal best for Ken. It was a shame as it was Ken's birthday and he deserved to land that one.

By now the group of locals seemed to be paying more attenion to our exploits than their own. A couple of guys were still fishing but most were muttering amongst themselves and looking mystified. No other fish had been hooked on their side of the spit and we were soon fighting for space in the calm water. Shortly after Ken lost his big fish I had another rod arching take. It stayed deep and felt like another good fish but was not jumping like the first one. Near to the end of a spirited fight it jumped close to the beach and came down with an almighty splash, but luckily the hook held. After this last attempt at freedom I was able to bring her close enough for Ken to get hold and bring her up the beach. This fish weighted 9kg. ! was over the moon as I had just caught the two most beautiful fish of my life.

Ken and his five kilo barra

Again before we knew it Ken was into a fish, but again his luck was out and this fish threw the hooks too. Luckily Ken managed to land the next fish he hooked, after a good fight. It weighed it at 5kg. By now all the indians had stopped fishing and were standing in two groups behind us busily chatting to each other. They couldn't believe we had just had six fish on in under 15 minutes and landed three of these. We couldn't belive it either! Just then Agnelo arrived and was equally shocked and dissapointed he had missed the feeding spell.

We fished a while longer, but caught no more. I had a lure destroyed by a fish but didn't hook up and by now it was hard to change lures as every guy still on the spit wanted to have a play with my lure box. The last fish of the night was caught by a very friendly indian whom I had chatted to earlier; he had stayed on while most of the other guys left. He was rewarded with a lovely 10kg barra which made him smile from ear to ear for the rest of the evening!

Sunset in Goa

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