The intrepid explorer is something of an endangered species – there’s been enough digging and poking, seafaring and mountaineering, over the last few centuries to render wannabe Columbuses and Cooks about as relevant as their astrolabes. But even to the jaded traveler, sick to his stomach from feasting on wildebeest lunches at the Serengeti, the mention of Borneo, and the attendant vividness of Conradian imagery, is enough reason to pull out some of those old Bartholomews and Langenscheits from the clutches of dust and disuse….
Hemmed in by a cirque of islands - Sumatra and Java to the west and south, and the chaotic mess of the Celebes and the Filipino archipelagoes to the east – this cloistered Eden was used to a certain indulgence from Father Time…but even that Gentleman’s considerable influence could do little to shield the island’s chastity from the ravenous tides of commerce that swept across 17th century Asia. As the colonial powers lavished the Orient with all the craft they could muster, the fate of the East Indies hung on the outcome of an unholy barter between the two dominant powers in the region – the English and the Dutch. The exchange proved somewhat ambiguous in its implications for Borneo’s pedigree - with neither side willing to forswear the island’s charms, it was carved to pleasure the appetites of both masters. The Dutch part of this mixed legacy emerged as the Indonesian province of Kalimantan, while the English share made way for the Malaysian states of Sabah and Sarawak.
Hazy Outlook
The traveler’s dreamy vision of a pristine tropical paradise descends to a sobering touch-down at Kota Kinabalu’s bustling airport, which turns out to be substantially better endowed than the desolate landing strips of jungle lore. Sabah’s capital, with its pulsating malls and flashing neon lights, is emblematic of Borneo’s throbbing quest for a communion with the global marketplace, as it yanks itself out of its primeval womb, sawing feverishly on the cords that oppress its flight into the first world….
The impact on Borneo’s precious burden is alarmingly predictable - its handsome stands, relieved of their impregnability by the machinations of technology, struggle in vain against the suffocating grip of concrete creepers and the marauding armies of Caterpillars they support, blighting nature’s viral profusion with the regimented ugliness of palm oil plantations…The statistics are, for once, damningly truthful – the island’s forest cover has been plundered at a rate of 2 Million Hectares per year (half the size of the Netherlands); the proud denizens of this once-pristine domain, including the Orang-utan, the Sumatran Rhino and the Javan Tiger, have been reduced to the abjectness of squealing for mercy from the cardboard cut-outs of conservation campaigners. The oblivion of many lesser life-forms is exceeded only by our own awareness of their existence….
Smoke signals, warning against this scandalous exploitation, emerged, quite literally, from a devastating forest fire in 1997, one of the worst in recent times. As Borneo reeled under the resultant haze - a persistent feature of the island’s meteorology ever since – the authorities finally found the vision to rescue the few remaining feral oases from their impending despoliation. It is in one such measly strip of relatively unmolested forest that I decide to seek solace…
Monkey Business
The Sungai Kinabatangan, drains into the Sulu sea, following a leisurely meander from its origins in the mountains of Western Sabah. About 270 acres of secondary forest along the lower reaches of the river have been set apart by the Malaysian Government in a belated effort to avoid the ignominy of having to write off the country’s most prominent wildlife mascot – the Orang-utan. The ride up the river – in an antediluvian watercraft, salvaged from condemnation by the addition of a strident outboard motor – is not quite the journey into the Heart of Darkness I had come looking for. But while romance is in short supply, the promised wildlife sightings are not – I get my first glimpse of our tree-dwelling host well before I crawl into my hut at Uncle Tan’s marshy campsite. Alas, the preponderance of the giant ape in the area merits only half a cheer, for it is attributable as much to the effectiveness of conservation efforts inside the sanctuary as to habitat-loss elsewhere in the island.
The routine at Uncle Tan’s follows a well-trodden path, paved to perfection by 50 years of ecotourism in “Jungle Camps” around the world – a boat ride at the crack of dawn, a scramble across the jungle to work up the appetite for lunch, a second nautical drill in the evening to see off the sun, a nocturnal stroll to soak in the moonshine and so on...My multi-modal wanderings are frequently punctuated by visitations of the many brutes that pop out of the park’s colorful brochure - the Orang-utan, literally the “Man of the Forest”; the Proboscis Monkey of the pendulous nose and ponderous belly; the more conservatively designed Long-tailed Macaque; Kingfishers, Darters, Herons and a bevy of other feathered friends whose Latin names, chirped in a lilting Malay accent, dredge up dark memories of high school biology! I am unlucky with the rare Sumatran Rhino but considering that mammal’s density in Bornean forests, finding a needle in the proverbial haystack would probably fetch better odds.
Lesser Evil
For the time being, Borneo’s rainforests remain a well-kept secret that offers a great wildlife experience without straining the wallet or the nerves. Rampaging Land Cruisers haven’t checked in yet and 5-star tents are unlikely to be rolled out in a hurry…but the excesses of mass tourism are not of immediate concern to Borneo’s wildlife, given the far stiffer challenges posed by the palm oil and logging industries. Indeed, it is worth considering whether greater tourist interest, despite the unwholesomeness of its collateral baggage, might not command a better valuation for Borneo’s priceless ecological assets than competing claims have so far come up with. The abasement of Borneo’s magnificent forests with the tinsel garb of safari circuses is hardly a heartening prospect…but preferable, nevertheless, to the shame of complete denudation.
Hemmed in by a cirque of islands - Sumatra and Java to the west and south, and the chaotic mess of the Celebes and the Filipino archipelagoes to the east – this cloistered Eden was used to a certain indulgence from Father Time…but even that Gentleman’s considerable influence could do little to shield the island’s chastity from the ravenous tides of commerce that swept across 17th century Asia. As the colonial powers lavished the Orient with all the craft they could muster, the fate of the East Indies hung on the outcome of an unholy barter between the two dominant powers in the region – the English and the Dutch. The exchange proved somewhat ambiguous in its implications for Borneo’s pedigree - with neither side willing to forswear the island’s charms, it was carved to pleasure the appetites of both masters. The Dutch part of this mixed legacy emerged as the Indonesian province of Kalimantan, while the English share made way for the Malaysian states of Sabah and Sarawak.
Hazy Outlook
The traveler’s dreamy vision of a pristine tropical paradise descends to a sobering touch-down at Kota Kinabalu’s bustling airport, which turns out to be substantially better endowed than the desolate landing strips of jungle lore. Sabah’s capital, with its pulsating malls and flashing neon lights, is emblematic of Borneo’s throbbing quest for a communion with the global marketplace, as it yanks itself out of its primeval womb, sawing feverishly on the cords that oppress its flight into the first world….
The impact on Borneo’s precious burden is alarmingly predictable - its handsome stands, relieved of their impregnability by the machinations of technology, struggle in vain against the suffocating grip of concrete creepers and the marauding armies of Caterpillars they support, blighting nature’s viral profusion with the regimented ugliness of palm oil plantations…The statistics are, for once, damningly truthful – the island’s forest cover has been plundered at a rate of 2 Million Hectares per year (half the size of the Netherlands); the proud denizens of this once-pristine domain, including the Orang-utan, the Sumatran Rhino and the Javan Tiger, have been reduced to the abjectness of squealing for mercy from the cardboard cut-outs of conservation campaigners. The oblivion of many lesser life-forms is exceeded only by our own awareness of their existence….
Smoke signals, warning against this scandalous exploitation, emerged, quite literally, from a devastating forest fire in 1997, one of the worst in recent times. As Borneo reeled under the resultant haze - a persistent feature of the island’s meteorology ever since – the authorities finally found the vision to rescue the few remaining feral oases from their impending despoliation. It is in one such measly strip of relatively unmolested forest that I decide to seek solace…
Monkey Business
The Sungai Kinabatangan, drains into the Sulu sea, following a leisurely meander from its origins in the mountains of Western Sabah. About 270 acres of secondary forest along the lower reaches of the river have been set apart by the Malaysian Government in a belated effort to avoid the ignominy of having to write off the country’s most prominent wildlife mascot – the Orang-utan. The ride up the river – in an antediluvian watercraft, salvaged from condemnation by the addition of a strident outboard motor – is not quite the journey into the Heart of Darkness I had come looking for. But while romance is in short supply, the promised wildlife sightings are not – I get my first glimpse of our tree-dwelling host well before I crawl into my hut at Uncle Tan’s marshy campsite. Alas, the preponderance of the giant ape in the area merits only half a cheer, for it is attributable as much to the effectiveness of conservation efforts inside the sanctuary as to habitat-loss elsewhere in the island.
The routine at Uncle Tan’s follows a well-trodden path, paved to perfection by 50 years of ecotourism in “Jungle Camps” around the world – a boat ride at the crack of dawn, a scramble across the jungle to work up the appetite for lunch, a second nautical drill in the evening to see off the sun, a nocturnal stroll to soak in the moonshine and so on...My multi-modal wanderings are frequently punctuated by visitations of the many brutes that pop out of the park’s colorful brochure - the Orang-utan, literally the “Man of the Forest”; the Proboscis Monkey of the pendulous nose and ponderous belly; the more conservatively designed Long-tailed Macaque; Kingfishers, Darters, Herons and a bevy of other feathered friends whose Latin names, chirped in a lilting Malay accent, dredge up dark memories of high school biology! I am unlucky with the rare Sumatran Rhino but considering that mammal’s density in Bornean forests, finding a needle in the proverbial haystack would probably fetch better odds.
Lesser Evil
For the time being, Borneo’s rainforests remain a well-kept secret that offers a great wildlife experience without straining the wallet or the nerves. Rampaging Land Cruisers haven’t checked in yet and 5-star tents are unlikely to be rolled out in a hurry…but the excesses of mass tourism are not of immediate concern to Borneo’s wildlife, given the far stiffer challenges posed by the palm oil and logging industries. Indeed, it is worth considering whether greater tourist interest, despite the unwholesomeness of its collateral baggage, might not command a better valuation for Borneo’s priceless ecological assets than competing claims have so far come up with. The abasement of Borneo’s magnificent forests with the tinsel garb of safari circuses is hardly a heartening prospect…but preferable, nevertheless, to the shame of complete denudation.
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