Dear Mohamed, How is my tree, Regards Neil
Dear Neil, Your tree has grown a little seems to like the sun and has a new leaf since you last asked, Regards Mohamed.
Only time will tell.
That afternoon we had a one on one tour of the local village and learned a bit of this and a bit of that and in the evening we once again went back out on to the river and then down one of it´s tributaries in search of more wildlife. We were again treated to Proboscis and Macaque monkeys and another three wild Orang Utans, one of which was an adolescent male only a few metres away from us on the riverbank who angrily gestured at us for disturbing him before disappearing in to some six foot high grass, we had been very, very lucky.
The phenomenon is caused by fire flies, thousands of them, each one pulsing with a tiny reddish light, what a way to finish off, sat in a little boat on one of the largest rivers in the region, surrounded by darkness but for the twinkling nature show in front, we loved it, it was a perfect end to a perfect day, I was still smiling as my head sank deeper and deeper in to the pillow.
The first part of our two-night tour was to visit Sepilok the most famous and most visited Orang-utan rehabilitation centre in Borneo. We, and what appeared to be about two hundred others, made our way along a wooden walkway eventually arriving at a large split level platform some six foot from the ground where the mass was gathering. The first Orang-utan shimmied along a rope towards the feeding area where two rangers waited with buckets of fruit. We were then treated to quite an acrobatics display from three feisty males who all eventually made it to the platform where they tucked in to their breakfast.
Dropped back at the May Fair hotel we again made our way to the first floor reception to check back in and recover our luggage. The formalities over and our old friend the owner, kitted out as usual in his white vest and shorts asked “where you go tomorrow?” I explained we were heading up the Kinabatangan River for two nights and then back to KK, he nodded and grunted.
We dumped our stuff, reclaimed the main bags and dropped off some shopping we had picked up before grabbing some food at a restaurant just around the corner. On returning, expecting to turn in for an early night we were greeted with a hotel owner holding out his cut thumb asking “where you keep your whiskey” not having any whiskey we were confused and tried to explain this.
Owner “You’re whiskey has exploded”
Neil “What”
Owner “You’re whiskey has exploded”
Neil “We have no whiskey”
Owner holds up cut thumb “You’re whiskey”
Neil “I don’t understand”
Owner “I have cleaned it up”
Neil “Thank you and sorry about your thumb”
I had worked out half way through that the whiskey to which he was referring was in fact a bottle of wine that I had left on top of the telly, this had slowly slid off whilst we were out. Emergency over and only the smell of alcohol and a few very small shards of glass remained for the rest of our stay.
The next morning after handing our key back we were greeted with the shout “today you go to Kinabatangan” at last he’s got it.
We had to wait for the first turtle to start laying, basically at night turtles come ashore to look for a suitable spot and after digging an impressively large hole will lay upwards of seventy eggs. The conservation project workers here collect the eggs and re-bury them in a protected area until they hatch, the baby turtles are then released in to the sea. We were there to witness all of the above and at about ten with the rain beating down the call came. So twenty of us hurriedly pulled on our footwear and various waterproof tops, umbrellas in hand we dived out in to the storm.
Returning to the same beach that had been bathed in sunshine as we snorkelled from it only a few hours earlier the scene presented was a very different one. Huddled around a small light and taking the meagre shelter offered by some overhanging branches we watched in wonderment as a metre long green turtle proceeded to lay her clutch of eggs.
Once each of the fragile golf ball sized spheres had been collected we left her in peace to fill back in the whole she had previously spent so long excavating and set off to the hatchery. Sized similarly to that of a basketball court the hatchery was half full, each of the egg collections are buried and surrounded by a mesh tube to protect from predators, some are in the shade and some are left to warm up in the sun, this effects the sex of the turtles and is done to achieve a balance.
With our scoop buried and labelled we were then presented with a shopping basket full of a nest that had hatched during the day. With this in hand the ranger took us down to a different beach where with one gentle tip the sixty or so miniature turtles toppled, rolled and scampered on to the sand, instinctively heading into the waves apart for the odd one who must have landed on their heads as they tried to run back ashore. These confused little fellas were hurriedly turned round and followed their siblings in to the gently lapping ocean. I say gently lapping as it was to us but for a one day old green turtle the waves were tsunami scale yet they still managed to make the swim out to sea seem easy.
Dripping wet we made our way back to our accommodation filled to the brim with the warmest of memories and happy to have witnessed an event that most people will never have the opportunity to see, it’s times like these that remind you that you are so lucky to be doing what you’re doing.
Following breakfast we made our way to the boat that would speed us back to Sandakan stopping to watch an escapee from that night’s baby turtle release make his way to the ocean, another magical moment to savour, I hope he makes it.
We were picked up on the morning of the twenty-eighth of July at the Hotel Sandakan, despite the fact that we were staying at the May Fair Hotel and being the only pickup by taxi. Borneo Wildlife Adventures refused to associate themselves with such downmarket accommodation, to be fair I usually do as well, but as previously described it is just something you have to do in Sandakan.
Anyway our guide jabbered on for a little while about the turtles and how things were going to be done and after about forty five minutes we arrived, via dirt tracks at a dilapidated wooden structure next to a chocolate brown river here we boarded our fibreglass speedboat and headed off, earlier than expected with only six of us aboard because the guides had got bored waiting for the larger coach. The boat weaved its way around tight bends avoiding the overhanging palm trees then out on to the pancake flat Sulu Sea for our forty-minute ride to Libaran Island, where we were to have lunch.
Upon arrival we watched a video about turtles (Okay it was a DVD but I still go to the video shop as I’m sure many of you do too) which warned of the dangers of plastic bags and old fishing nets, we then took a walk along the beach looking into a sea strewn with plastic bags and old fishing nets, we also visited the local village where the delightful children gave the bird whilst we took photos.
Once we eventually arrived at Selingan Island (known as turtle island) we quickly threw our bags in to our room and hurriedly made our way to the beach to get in some snorkelling before the tide made the coverage of the coral so low that swimming over would be nearly impossible. Selingan is one Island out of four contained within the turtle islands national park
We flippered around for a bit and saw some beautiful fish but unfortunately no turtles and headed back to shore before our safe passage was closed off. As evening closed in we made our way to visitor centre where we were to spend the next couple of hour listening to three aged Aussies moaning about everything and anything while getting progressively more drunk, so much so one of them fell asleep bolt upright half way through a sentence.
Friday morning arrived and that meant it was time to leave the surprisingly cold mountainside and head to the east coast and the town of Sandakan. To stop the bus we perched ourselves, and all of our worldly goods, next to the main road and waved furiously at the first coach to hurtle around the corner.
The next five hours were spent squeezed in to an uncomfortable seat as our driver threw the coach around corners at speeds to make your toes curl, in fact we spent more of that journey on the wrong side of the road than the right, the driver of the pickup who had to drive up a grass bank to avoid us would testify to that. Knuckles whitened and brow a little more furrowed we arrived in Sandakan and headed for the May Fair hotel, a central choice and based almost wholly on the rumour that the owner is completely bonkers.
We made our way through the hotels very low profile entrance and up a flight of stairs to the first floor reception, here we were greeted by a small Chinese Malaysian man with a Bobby Charlton comb-over wearing a white vest, the legendary ‘grumpy but affable’ owner. Check in proved to be a simple process and we were soon up another flight of stairs and in our hospital like twin bedded room. I spent the next half an hour gaffer taping two bathroom windows before we left to have a look around and try and buy a few supplies for tomorrow’s overnighter on Turtle Island.
The owner had so far been disappointingly sane so I expected nothing less when I handed our room key in when he shouted at me “where you go tomorrow?” I explained turtle island and then reconfirmed that we would be returning in two days time to stay again, he nodded and grunted.
So then Sandakan, well more like Sandakan’t or perhaps Sandadon’t would be more appropriate a run down place with little or nothing to do in the centre, thankfully it was only a base from which we could explore some of the delights of Sabah. We returned to our hotel and when collecting the key the owner shouted at me “where you go tomorrow?” I explained Turtle Island and then reconfirmed that we would be returning in two days time to stay again, he nodded and grunted.
We made our way upstairs only having to return to reception first to tell ‘Bobby’ that we were going on the internet and secondly to tell him we were now off the internet, the second visit was greeted with a shout of “where you go tomorrow?” I explained Turtle Island and then reconfirmed that we would be returning in two days time to stay again, he nodded and grunted.
As we were only away from the May Fair hotel for the one night we left our main luggage in their store room, I went to reception for the key to be greeted by the owner, again wearing his trade mark white vest. The conversation went something like this:
Neil “could I have the key for your store room please”
Owner “the store room is no smoking”
Neil “I don’t smoke”
Owner “good”
The following morning we left for our next destination Mount Kinabalu and the lovely sounding rose cabins. We hailed a taxi to take us to the long distance bus station which proceeded to take us past where both the Lonely Planet map & the hostel staff had advised us to go, we began to exchange worried glances, then exclamations of confusion all culminating in us both shouting at the driver. Eventually we got him to turn round and return to where we needed to be, only to find out that it wasn’t where we needed to be at all, where we needed to be was exactly where we had originally been heading.
We shrank deep in to our seats and filled the whole of the car with a thousand apologies, fortunately our driver had a thick skin and only charged us an extra couple of bob for taking us all the way back again.
Once at the right bus station we were again surrounded by touts, each with the best bus, we boarded the next to leave and three hours later were the only travelers stepping off the bus at the mist shrouded Rose Cabin. We checked in to our room and spent the next couple of hours catching up on some sleep. Later that afternoon we hitched a ride with the local constabulary to the Mount Kinabalu visitor’s center and finding most things closed returned to wait for our ‘full board’ evening meal, which was excellent by the way.
The thing about Mount Kinabalu, from what I can gather, is that it spends the majority of it’s daylight life completely obscured by cloud, that is unless you wake at some unseemly hour and have a look through bleary eyes. So alarm set for unseemly hour and with unseemly hour reached we dragged ourselves out of bed and stood huddled on our balcony, sipping tea, looking on through bleary eyes and feeling suitably impressed by the vast rise of rock in front of us.
Following a couple of extra hours kip we once again looked out of our bedroom windows to see that the mountain had once again disappeared beneath it’s cotton wool cloak and that, quite satisfyingly, the unseemly hour was justified. We once again made our way back to the start of the main walking and climbing routes, choosing a leisurely stroll around the botanic gardens and then a little more taxing couple of trails heading off in to deeper forest with little or no company to finish off.
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Jez said:
Your'e a braver man than I Neil, but wheres the long rubber glove read more
on Tiger Temple4 -
Nice tatoo Neil. read more
on Twyfelfontein