Cruising on the Kinabatangan

larredm — Wed, 27 May 2015 12:30:01 GMT

After our first night in the jungle we woke before sunrise to find the river covered in a blanket of mist.

“That looks like crocodile water” my girlfriend muttered, visibly petrified.

“Don’t worry,” I said smugly, “we do have a boat you know.”

Before long, however, my cocksure attitude faded as an outline of something afloat on the river began to emerge through the mist. At first it looked as if someone was paddling aboard an old surfboard. Was it a fisherman? I wasn't sure.

What remained of my earlier confidence soon vanished as it became clear that it was a man waving at us aboard a rather precarious looking wooden craft.

"Hello!” the man bellowed in a thick Malayan accent. “Welcome to the Kinabatangan Safari! I am your captain"

Snaking across the dense jungles of Malaysian Borneo, the mighty Kinabatangan River is home to some of the most spectacular wildlife and habitat on earth.

I was here to fulfil what I had thought was a childhood dream. Growing up in the British suburbs on a diet of David Attenborough documentaries, Borneo was always a place that evoked images of exotic adventure and natural wonder.

Now, as we were about to board what looked like a home-made canoe in a river teeming with man-eating crocodiles, I was having second thoughts.

“Is there a bigger boat available?” I asked.

“No my friend, this boat is big enough for us” the man replied with a smile.

Despite my initial fears, within minutes of getting on board all my concerns about the structural integrity of the boat were superseded by a sudden sense of amazement. The view was astounding: the labyrinth of tangled vegetation which fortified both banks of the murky brown river was teeming with life in the steamy twilight.

Just fifty meters downstream we had our first close encounter: a herd of pigmy elephants drinking by the riverbank. As we meandered slowly down the river our eagle-eyed captain would stop frequently to point out more wildlife: a reticulated python curled up in the mangroves; a saltwater crocodile bathing on the riverbank; a rhinoceros hornbill soaring above against a clear blue sky.

The highlight came when the captain became excited about something up in one of the treetop canopies. There, looking down over the rest of the jungle was an Orang-utan.

For anyone passionate about seeing wildlife in its natural habitat, the Kinabatangan is a great option. If I was to give one piece of advice, however, it would be this: make sure you enquire about the boat.

Catching a Moment - Significant insignificance

larredm — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 11:46:33 GMT

Running my hands through the sand as I gather my thoughts, I feel relaxed and peaceful. It’s a warm night; humid but with a refreshing breeze. Pleasantly detached from my usual pragmatic conscience, I have been watching capricious flames dance above the burning logs for some time now. I am mesmerised by the seemingly unpredictable flames, and the incalculable pattern that this unremitting emancipation of energy exhibits. I find something beautifully enigmatic about this inconsequential infernal chaos. Each flame is distinctly autonomous, and each embarks on a unique and frantic dash towards the night sky – an alluring destination if only it were attainable.

A dazzling full moon illuminates the tranquil sea, and an ocean of stars gleam and glimmer in mysterious splendour, glistening in defiance of their distant isolation. I find myself gazing into the deepest universe, a porthole to the very beginnings of time. I am overcome with a sense of fragility, and I begin to reflect on the somewhat neonatal frailty of our planet and species. Indeed, humans have existed for only two hundred thousand years or so. Yet, given that the universe is estimated to be some fourteen billion years old, human existence is but a blip in the history of time.

As I have watched the fire many thousands of flames have been born, and all enjoyed a brief existence before perishing within a split second. It seems obvious to me that each flame is too short lived to be significant to anything other than itself. I cannot help but draw parallels between the evanescent flames and the relative infancy of our species compared with the universe itself. If human existence relative to the age of the universe were represented by a flame in the fire I have been watching for the past hour, the flame would exist for barely one twentieth of a second before vanishing; too short for my anthropoid eyesight to even notice.

When we as a species eventually and inevitably perish, our footprint in time may be infinitesimally small. The cosmos will continue, unrepentant and unaware of our brief emancipation; of our own inconsequential infernal chaos.

But does this matter? On reflection, I do not believe it does. Am I happy? Ironically, I have never felt so blissful and yet I am alone, thousands of miles away from home with not a soul aware of my circumstances.

Am I significant? Perhaps it is the infinitesimal things in life that matter.

Changing Places

Cruising on the Kinabatangan

Catching a Moment - Significant insignificance