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Onto a Borneo Disaster

 

Blimey. The nice people at Australian magazine, Fishing Wild, have been kind enough to ask me to send some stuff for their illustrious pages on a regular basis, which was pretty damned decent of them and all that. But I'm afraid this has a couple of knock-on effects: first, part of the gig is that they'd like to publish any words of Gullible wisdom before I post them on these pages, for obvious reasons. And second, I'd better start catching something. So just to keep things ticking over I've put a few photos and stuff here, and I'll then fill in the blanks once I get the nod from down under.

These pictures below are from a none-too-successful attempt at snaring an elusive Kelah, or Malaysian Red Mahseer, from the jungle rivers of Malaysia's very own ethnic theme park: Taman Negara.

"Look! It's even got an en-swamp!" Jerantut, and Wilko's looking well        chuffed with the accommodation... 

 

Joining the world of crawling stuff down there in "The World's Oldest Rainforest ®", though the really big crawling stuff seems to have long since fled the crowds to the sanctuary of the distant undergrowth.

...And just as enthralled by the three hour boat ride up the Sungai Tembeling, which, according to the Lonely Planet, is "a highlight of many people's visit to Taman Negara".

 























Akmal guides the way up the beautiful Sungai Tahan. Such a pity the fishing wasn't half as good as the river looked.

Below: Flies flies flies... First day fishing: two Kelah bites (missed), two leeches, two bee stings, two grazes, an ant infestation, two Kingfishers, one Hornbill and an Elephant turd.

 

 




Tannin Negara.

Aswan drags the canoe up the falls at Latah Berkoh. I did offer to help, honest. 3 hours to reach the fishing spot each day, yet still I couldn't get him to turn out before half eight in the morning. Not a lot of good, really, fishing between 12 and 3...

 

A sweaty, middle aged, western tourist in dodgy sandals and a khaki waistcoat stalks the jungle trails by foot. Cliché!

 

It looked great early doors - a beautiful jungle river and three Sebarau launches in the first three chucks with a spoon. All downhill afterwards though, unfortunately.

 


 


Right: Jesus H Christ on a bike!! While the other cold blooded scaly thing she usually shares a bed with was out fishing, Lynneth took a little mid-afternoon snooze and had more of a wildlife encounter than most trekkers we met got out in the jungle.

Akmal compares his lip fluff with a junior catfish.

 

   

And when some heavy overnight rain up in them thar' mountains swelled the river by 3 feet and turned it the colour of noodle soup, all we were left with was catfish. Lots of catfish... Baung baung baung baung. Not quite what I dreamed of.

 

Left: Monkey Bastard on a wire. I've often wondered if they ever get it wrong, and later this very day got confirmation that indeed they do when one fell out of a tree stuck in a cliff opposite at Pos Melantai, dropped a hundred feet, and hit the water with a massive splat. Funniest thing I'd seen in ages.

Right: The river bed's not an ideal surface for a moped, given. But a satellite dish and a kiddie's push chair? 

 






Festering Palm Oil nuts. They reek as foul as they look. A couple of days in and I've renamed em Tandas Nuts, as your fingers stink like they went through the paper. Nasty.

 

Baung baung baung baung...

 

Despite my protests they wouldn't kick off at dawn or leave me and hammock up river overnight, so four days consecutive we made the long haul upstream - until Aswan developed Latah Berkohitis and pulled a sickie.

 
 


"How's it going then?"
"Very groovy, thank you for asking."


Above and below: "I have given a name to my pain, and that name is Nerum Nut". The few Kelah we saw feeding in the river were gorging themselves on these fellas, which being smack in season carpeted the river surface. I tried trotting them down on the top with a controller, but found out it's like fishing for a cow with a blade of grass - about bloody hopeless.

 


Go on then... I mean, everyone else has had their bit, so you might as well help yourself. Sucker.









What fun. This dirty great prawn turned out to be catch of the visit. Marvellous. So I ate it.

 

So much as looking like you might have once taken four Aspirins at a sitting is punishable by death in Malaysia, so who's financing these pimp-wheels? And how?

Kapong Tackle in KL, and I'm like a kid in a sweet shop for a couple of hours. Bob on. I liked it in there very much indeed, and went mental.

 

Back to the night time sky line of city centre KL.

Back to Temengorr Malaysian Toman

Onto a Borneo Disaster

 

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