THE STAR
Saturday, November 14, 1998
On The Move
An adventure in the dark
Story and pictures by Liz Price
"LIE down flat on your stomach and crawl. Never mind the mud, just slither through it. Think of it as a free facial." This was what the guide told our party of first-time cavers. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
As the people in front of me slowly disappeared one by one through the small hole between the rocks, I consoled myself thinking that a mud pack must be good, after all this was free and with no added chemicals. I closed my mind to what we had seen earlier crawling in the mud, lay face down and started sliding through the mud bath.
We were in the Dark Cave on an educational and adventure caving trip, run by volunteers from the Cave Group of the Malaysian Nature Society (MNS).
Dark Cave is one of many caves at Batu Caves, about 12km north of Kuala Lumpur. Up till now, the hardest part of the trip had been the climb to the cave in the blazing sun -- some 250 steep steps.
At least we didn't have to go all the way to the top, which is 272 stairs to the Temple Cave.
Temple Cave is the main tourist attraction at Batu Caves, and is usually the only cave that visitors see.
So we were lucky to go where most tourists don't. But at a price. We would get wet and muddy in the process. Fortunately, we had been warned to wear old clothes and to bring a change of clothing.
Once inside Dark Cave, we were able to recover our breath as we were given a briefing on the history of the cave, its formation, what to expect, etc.
Whilst sitting there, we were watched by a solemn troop of long-tailed macaques who were resting in the branches overhead.
A fine flowstone.
They looked as intent as us. However, unlike us, they didn't gasp in surprise when we were told that the rock forming the cave is 400 million years old, and the cave itself is 60 to 100 million years old.
They had heard it all before, and could probably also have told us that the limestone rock was originally formed from layers of shells and corals once under the sea.
After the rock formed into hills and mountains, water eroded the rock to make the caves, enlarging small cracks and fissures into the passages and chambers seen today.
We switched on our torches and entered the dark realms of the cave. The stench of guano, or bat excrement, was quite overpowering.
Our first confrontation was with the cockroaches. There were hundreds of them, crawling all around our feet and above us, clinging to the roof of the covered walkway. Somebody screamed as a cockroach fell onto her neck -- it was like something out of a horror film.
All around us, the floor consisted of dark brown "soil" which seemed harmless enough until the guide put her hand in it and we realised the soil was actually bat guano. It was alive. There were bugs, crickets, beetles, spiders, cockroaches, millipedes etc. It was an entomologist's paradise.
Our revulsion slowly turned to wonder as we were told how this wriggling mass of life is a vital part of the food chain: the bats are the only animals which go out to feed so every other creature ultimately depends on the bats.
Their guano drops to the floor and all the creepy crawlies feed upon it.
Then in turn, the larger animals such as long-legged centipedes, frogs and rodents feed upon the smaller ones. High above our heads, we could see countless bats flying round like a scene out of a Dracula film. These are the fruit-eating bats, further in we would see the insect-eating bats.
The guide said if we were lucky , we would see a snake: apparently the cave racer is well adapted to a life in the dark, and dines exclusively off bats, thereby completing the food chain.
The cave formations were wonderful: long stalactites hanging down from the ceiling with the often stumpy stalagmites rising up to meet them. If they join, they become columns. They were all of various shapes and sizes and colours, some glistening as the calcite crystals caught our torchlights. Many were still alive and growing, all were formed by water.
The water becomes saturated with calcium carbonate as it seeps down through the rocks, and this is slowly deposited over the years and builds up into the cave formations. We saw a beautiful flowstone cascading down the wall, straws, gour pools, curtains. Each formation was fantastic.
We had been warned not to touch anything. The growth rate is very slow, about one centimetre in 70 years. So you can imagine how long it has taken for a 10m-high column to form.
Some of the stalactites were pure white, others were creamy-coloured, a few were grey and one or two had an orange-red tinge. These differences in colour are caused by the minerals in the rocks, for example manganese and iron.
The most unusual formations were the helictites. Thin and small, they can grow sideways and even upwards. Mother Nature certainly had a good imagination when she created this cave.
Further on, we came to the longest passage in the cave, where most of the cave fauna live.
At first we thought we were approaching a waterfall but then realised the sound was actually caused by bats flying high overhead.
There must have been hundreds if not thousands of these insect bats. Meanwhile, at ground level and on the walls, we saw more crickets, spiders, and centipedes.
We were in luck for in the next section we saw the cave racer. This snake was about two metres long and was creamy white in colour. We were assured it was non poisonous so we gathered closer to have a good look. The snake seemed unconcerned about our presence, probably thinking "here's another tourist group disturbing my peace and quiet."
Muddy, but jubilant after the adventure.
After all our oohing and aahing during the educational part of the trip, it was time for the fun bit -- the crawl in the mud. I found myself lying face down in the mud following the shoes of the person in front, through a tiny aperture that only looked big enough for a mouse. Or a small dog.
(We had been accompanied throughout the trip by a white dog named Calcite. Apparently, she joins every caving trip and knows the cave as well if not better than the guides.)
Somehow I contorted my body and got through the small hole, only to be confronted by an even smaller one. I had to turn my head sideways and put one arm in front and the other arm behind in order to reduce my shoulder width, then breathe out and slowly inch my way forwards through the opening.
Phew! It was a relief to breathe again in the slightly larger passage. After those few moments of apprehension on whether I'd fit through or just get stuck, we then had a fun slide down a slope into a muddy pool, with each person trying to make a big splash.
We were so muddy by then that a bit more dirt didn't matter. Having slid down, we then had to climb to get out -- this time a vertical wall, but with the guides pointing out convenient footholds, it was easier than it looked.
We were shown a deep hole in the floor, this was part of the pothole series which experienced cavers used ropes -- not suitable for us beginners.
And finally, we were out.
Wet, muddy and exhausted, but exhilarated. And we could only laugh when we realised it was the first time since childhood we had crawled and played in the mud.
If only our mothers could see us now. It had been a wonderful adventure in the dark.
These tours are run by the Cave Group of the Malaysian Nature Society at weekends. For more information contact Mr Wong on 010-241 7907.
sign in a cave in Laos
22 August 2008
Gua Cintamanis - All Malaysia Star
ALL MALAYSIA (from The Star)
Originally published in The Star on
Saturday August 14, 2004
Guano, snakes & creepy crawlies . . .
Story & pictures by Liz Price
With a name like Cintamanis (sweet love), you’d expect a story of passion and romance.
Instead, this is a tale of bats, creepy crawlies, mud and darkness. The location is a cave. The characters are a group of friends with a love for caving. It is this passion that led us to spend a Sunday exploring the Cintamanis cave in Pahang.
Gua Cintamanis is in this limestone hill in Pahang.
Gua Cintamanis is located in a kampung of the same name near Bentong. I have no idea where the name comes from. An English lady, Sheila Cousins, visited the cave in the 1930’s and called it Chitamani in her book. I assume this is a corruption of the spelling used today.
The team leader called for an early start. I am not an early bird so I was still bleary eyed and yawning when I met my fellow cavers in Gombak, Kuala Lumpur. We sorted ourselves out into our respective cars and set off for our day of adventure.
Once we reached the kampung, we parked by the football field and organised our bulky equipment. We had ropes, ladders, belays and climbing equipment. That was just the communal gear. Our caving ladders are special flexible ladders of about 8m in length, which roll up into a neat package. The only problem is as they get old, the wires tend to kink and become difficult to roll up. It is similar to manhandling an octopus.
The rope ladder takes practice.
As soon as everyone was ready, we set off across the football field to the base of the track.
Bukit Cintamanis is an impressive limestone hill rising proudly above the surrounding land. It was a nice sunny day, so the blue sky contrasted well against the white rock and green vegetation. The cave entrance is located about three quarters up the hill, so we were in for a climb. A series of about 200 steps snaked upwards. The path was surrounded by overgrown weeds and looked little used.
The cave entrance was fairly small. It took a while for my eyes to get used to the gloom of the cave after the bright sunlight outside. Once I had gained my “night vision”, I could see a huge chamber in front of us. It was impressively large. The floor of the chamber sloped downwards towards the rear. We followed a wooden staircase on the right which led to a chamber. It was used as an Indian shrine. Unfortunately there was a lot of rubbish on the floor.
We went back to the main chamber and headed down the slope to the top of the pitch. This is a drop of about 12m, and is the reason why we had brought so many ladders and ropes. It is not possible to free-climb it, especially considering the guano. The floor and walls, and indeed everything, was covered in sticky guano, or bat droppings. It stuck to our shoes and just about everything else.
We belayed a ladder and threw one end down the pitch. The beauty of caving ladders is that they have special clips to attach one ladder to another, thereby adding to the length. As it was the first time for some members of the group to climb a ladder, they were secured to a safety line. It was a messy descent. As my shoes knocked the rock wall, guano seemed to fly everywhere, and of course, coated the rungs of the ladder. By the time the last man descended, the rungs were covered in bat poo!
We all descended safely, although the novices were a bit shaky at this unaccustomed experience. It’s not easy to climb a caving ladder for the first time. At the bottom of the ladder, we found ourselves at the end of the main chamber we had just descended from. There were quite a few bats flying around.
Some people kill the harmless cave racer out of false fear.
Straight ahead of us was a steep slope. To get up this slope covered with slimy guano, we had to tread heavily into the muck and move up quickly before our feet had a chance to slide back. We had a good laugh watching people ascending this gradient. At the top – a dead end. However we were rewarded for our efforts as there were a couple of cave racers on the top level.
The cave racer is a snake adapted to living in the dark, and it feeds on bats. The snakes are constrictors and don’t have poison. They are harmless to man, and normally very placid. Humans are their only predators. It is sad that people kill these white snakes assuming they will attack. I have never heard of any incident where a racer has attacked a person.
The snakes didn’t take too much notice of us. This cave was ideal for them, as there were plenty of bats to feed on. And where there are bats in a cave, you generally find a host of invertebrates making their home. These include long-legged centipedes, crickets and cockroaches.
We had a look at the rest of the cave, then it was time to go back up the ladder.
I have climbed many caving ladders over the years, so I was able to help the beginners. It was a slow process getting everyone up the ladder, but it was a good experience for them. Everyone’s hands were coated in sticky guano. But despite the mess and the creepy crawlies, everyone had enjoyed their day of “sweet love”. W
Originally published in The Star on
Saturday August 14, 2004
Guano, snakes & creepy crawlies . . .
Story & pictures by Liz Price
With a name like Cintamanis (sweet love), you’d expect a story of passion and romance.
Instead, this is a tale of bats, creepy crawlies, mud and darkness. The location is a cave. The characters are a group of friends with a love for caving. It is this passion that led us to spend a Sunday exploring the Cintamanis cave in Pahang.
Gua Cintamanis is in this limestone hill in Pahang.
Gua Cintamanis is located in a kampung of the same name near Bentong. I have no idea where the name comes from. An English lady, Sheila Cousins, visited the cave in the 1930’s and called it Chitamani in her book. I assume this is a corruption of the spelling used today.
The team leader called for an early start. I am not an early bird so I was still bleary eyed and yawning when I met my fellow cavers in Gombak, Kuala Lumpur. We sorted ourselves out into our respective cars and set off for our day of adventure.
Once we reached the kampung, we parked by the football field and organised our bulky equipment. We had ropes, ladders, belays and climbing equipment. That was just the communal gear. Our caving ladders are special flexible ladders of about 8m in length, which roll up into a neat package. The only problem is as they get old, the wires tend to kink and become difficult to roll up. It is similar to manhandling an octopus.
The rope ladder takes practice.
As soon as everyone was ready, we set off across the football field to the base of the track.
Bukit Cintamanis is an impressive limestone hill rising proudly above the surrounding land. It was a nice sunny day, so the blue sky contrasted well against the white rock and green vegetation. The cave entrance is located about three quarters up the hill, so we were in for a climb. A series of about 200 steps snaked upwards. The path was surrounded by overgrown weeds and looked little used.
The cave entrance was fairly small. It took a while for my eyes to get used to the gloom of the cave after the bright sunlight outside. Once I had gained my “night vision”, I could see a huge chamber in front of us. It was impressively large. The floor of the chamber sloped downwards towards the rear. We followed a wooden staircase on the right which led to a chamber. It was used as an Indian shrine. Unfortunately there was a lot of rubbish on the floor.
We went back to the main chamber and headed down the slope to the top of the pitch. This is a drop of about 12m, and is the reason why we had brought so many ladders and ropes. It is not possible to free-climb it, especially considering the guano. The floor and walls, and indeed everything, was covered in sticky guano, or bat droppings. It stuck to our shoes and just about everything else.
We belayed a ladder and threw one end down the pitch. The beauty of caving ladders is that they have special clips to attach one ladder to another, thereby adding to the length. As it was the first time for some members of the group to climb a ladder, they were secured to a safety line. It was a messy descent. As my shoes knocked the rock wall, guano seemed to fly everywhere, and of course, coated the rungs of the ladder. By the time the last man descended, the rungs were covered in bat poo!
We all descended safely, although the novices were a bit shaky at this unaccustomed experience. It’s not easy to climb a caving ladder for the first time. At the bottom of the ladder, we found ourselves at the end of the main chamber we had just descended from. There were quite a few bats flying around.
Some people kill the harmless cave racer out of false fear.
Straight ahead of us was a steep slope. To get up this slope covered with slimy guano, we had to tread heavily into the muck and move up quickly before our feet had a chance to slide back. We had a good laugh watching people ascending this gradient. At the top – a dead end. However we were rewarded for our efforts as there were a couple of cave racers on the top level.
The cave racer is a snake adapted to living in the dark, and it feeds on bats. The snakes are constrictors and don’t have poison. They are harmless to man, and normally very placid. Humans are their only predators. It is sad that people kill these white snakes assuming they will attack. I have never heard of any incident where a racer has attacked a person.
The snakes didn’t take too much notice of us. This cave was ideal for them, as there were plenty of bats to feed on. And where there are bats in a cave, you generally find a host of invertebrates making their home. These include long-legged centipedes, crickets and cockroaches.
We had a look at the rest of the cave, then it was time to go back up the ladder.
I have climbed many caving ladders over the years, so I was able to help the beginners. It was a slow process getting everyone up the ladder, but it was a good experience for them. Everyone’s hands were coated in sticky guano. But despite the mess and the creepy crawlies, everyone had enjoyed their day of “sweet love”. W
Caving in North Laos - Star
THE STAR
L I F E S T Y L E
Travel & Adventure
Saturday July 8, 2006
Caving in North Laos
STORY AND PICTURES BY LIZ PRICE
WE were in Laos, readying to explore a cave in the northern province of Luang Namtha. But before we could enter, it was necessary that the village headman or guide first “obtained” permission from the cave spirit.
This involved a prayer. When I was caving in Madagascar some years ago, we had to pour an offering of rum to appease the ancestors. But the Lao cave spirits were content with just a verbal request.
I was on a German-Dutch expedition, partly sponsored by the European Union, to set up eco-tourism and help the locals. Our base was in the village of Vieng Phoukha, close to the Burma-China border. Although Laos is considered a Buddhist country, the people to the north are animists. Most of the people in Vieng Phoukha are Khmu, and we had a few of them as our guides.
There were six members in our expedition and each day we split into two teams to look for potential caving attractions. We would drive to a village and ask the headman if the people knew of caves in the area.
The entrance to the cave in Laos.
Many of the caves required a long walk to get to, sometimes up very steep mountains. One day, we were told of a cave close to the road. Some 45 minutes later, we were still huffing and puffing and soon found ourselves climbing up a mountain. From that day on, we asked the distance in terms of how long it took to get to the caves.
The biggest difference between Malaysian caves and those in northern Laos is the temperature. The caves are definitely cooler over there and the water is cold. On the first day we did a river cave and were up to our waists in water within minutes. The next day we entered a cave and had to crawl through water, where the roof almost met the floor. Our guide Hong Tong stripped off down to his underpants, lay in the water and disappeared through the hole. Seconds later, we heard his excited cry, “It goes”.
And then he was back, looking very pleased. Luckily for me, the cave didn’t go much further.
The local people eat any animals they can find in the forest and paddy fields. They also go into caves to hunt bats during June and July, when bats move into the caves. One cave we went into had very large and high chambers, and we saw lots of scaffolding, which the locals use to climb to reach the bats.
The wet passage through the caves.
In Gomantong Caves in Sabah, they use rattan ladders but here people use elaborate scaffolding. Occasionally, men fall to their deaths.
A few of the caves were home to large rats. These were much bigger than any rat I’ve seen in Malaysian caves and were quite pretty with cream-coloured chests. Once we were surveying a small passage and I was in front and could hear bats squeaking ahead of me. The minute I said, “I hope this passage isn’t a dead end and the rats don’t run into me”, a rat did just that.
It ran towards me and landed on my foot with a soft thump. I don’t know who had the greater shock. The locals leave the rats alone, because they believe if they killed the rats, the cave spirits would do bad things.
Other interesting creatures living in these caves include leeches. Large pink leeches. We saw them on stalactites and also on the cave walls.
Some of the caves in Laos are ‘gated’.
Many of the caves had large passages and chambers and were full of stunning stalactites and stalagmites. Several of the caves would make good tourist caves. In fact one – Tham Nam Eng – is already used for tourism after it was explored and mapped in 2005.
The cave now has a large wooden gate that is padlocked, and there is a handwritten list of rules on the gate. These include no smoking, no littering, and no kissing (apparently, young couples use it for that as it is a secluded place).
We spent 10 days in the area, during which time we explored 20 caves and mapped more than 5km of passage. On the last evening, we held a farewell dinner for all the guides and locals who had helped us.
Before the dinner, we had the farewell baasii ceremony, an important part of Lao culture. The baasii and other elements of spirit worship exist side by side with Buddhism. A village elder arrived and we all sat in a circle around a small table on which a variety of offerings were displayed – a small chicken, sticky rice, biscuits, money, flowers and lào-láo (rice whisky). The old man recited a blessing to ensure that our guardian spirits would remain with us on our long journey back.
The elder then tied a piece of string around each wrist of the expedition member next to him. He then moved around the circle and tied strings to each of our wrists. He was followed by all the guides and locals, who did the same while wishing us well on our journey.
In Lao tradition, the soul consists of many guardian spirits that occasionally wander away from their owner. These must be called back and bound to the body to ensure a person is properly protected before any important undertaking. It is believed that the string must be worn for at least three full days to ensure the desired effect.
When we left for Houay Xai we still wore our bracelets of white string.
The old man then left and we adjourned to the tables outside for dinner, speeches and beer. The following morning we bid farewell to everyone and set off for the border town of Houay Xai, making sure we had our spirits firmly attached to us.
Vieng Phoukha is a new area for trekking and caving. It is a three- to four-hour drive from the border of Houay Xai, which is easily reached from Chiang Rai in northern Thailand.
ECO-GUIDES SERVICE
Vieng Phoukha
Luang Namtha Province
Lao PDR
Tel : +856-81-212-400
E-mail: mpvpk@laotel.com
L I F E S T Y L E
Travel & Adventure
Saturday July 8, 2006
Caving in North Laos
STORY AND PICTURES BY LIZ PRICE
WE were in Laos, readying to explore a cave in the northern province of Luang Namtha. But before we could enter, it was necessary that the village headman or guide first “obtained” permission from the cave spirit.
This involved a prayer. When I was caving in Madagascar some years ago, we had to pour an offering of rum to appease the ancestors. But the Lao cave spirits were content with just a verbal request.
I was on a German-Dutch expedition, partly sponsored by the European Union, to set up eco-tourism and help the locals. Our base was in the village of Vieng Phoukha, close to the Burma-China border. Although Laos is considered a Buddhist country, the people to the north are animists. Most of the people in Vieng Phoukha are Khmu, and we had a few of them as our guides.
There were six members in our expedition and each day we split into two teams to look for potential caving attractions. We would drive to a village and ask the headman if the people knew of caves in the area.
The entrance to the cave in Laos.
Many of the caves required a long walk to get to, sometimes up very steep mountains. One day, we were told of a cave close to the road. Some 45 minutes later, we were still huffing and puffing and soon found ourselves climbing up a mountain. From that day on, we asked the distance in terms of how long it took to get to the caves.
The biggest difference between Malaysian caves and those in northern Laos is the temperature. The caves are definitely cooler over there and the water is cold. On the first day we did a river cave and were up to our waists in water within minutes. The next day we entered a cave and had to crawl through water, where the roof almost met the floor. Our guide Hong Tong stripped off down to his underpants, lay in the water and disappeared through the hole. Seconds later, we heard his excited cry, “It goes”.
And then he was back, looking very pleased. Luckily for me, the cave didn’t go much further.
The local people eat any animals they can find in the forest and paddy fields. They also go into caves to hunt bats during June and July, when bats move into the caves. One cave we went into had very large and high chambers, and we saw lots of scaffolding, which the locals use to climb to reach the bats.
The wet passage through the caves.
In Gomantong Caves in Sabah, they use rattan ladders but here people use elaborate scaffolding. Occasionally, men fall to their deaths.
A few of the caves were home to large rats. These were much bigger than any rat I’ve seen in Malaysian caves and were quite pretty with cream-coloured chests. Once we were surveying a small passage and I was in front and could hear bats squeaking ahead of me. The minute I said, “I hope this passage isn’t a dead end and the rats don’t run into me”, a rat did just that.
It ran towards me and landed on my foot with a soft thump. I don’t know who had the greater shock. The locals leave the rats alone, because they believe if they killed the rats, the cave spirits would do bad things.
Other interesting creatures living in these caves include leeches. Large pink leeches. We saw them on stalactites and also on the cave walls.
Some of the caves in Laos are ‘gated’.
Many of the caves had large passages and chambers and were full of stunning stalactites and stalagmites. Several of the caves would make good tourist caves. In fact one – Tham Nam Eng – is already used for tourism after it was explored and mapped in 2005.
The cave now has a large wooden gate that is padlocked, and there is a handwritten list of rules on the gate. These include no smoking, no littering, and no kissing (apparently, young couples use it for that as it is a secluded place).
We spent 10 days in the area, during which time we explored 20 caves and mapped more than 5km of passage. On the last evening, we held a farewell dinner for all the guides and locals who had helped us.
Before the dinner, we had the farewell baasii ceremony, an important part of Lao culture. The baasii and other elements of spirit worship exist side by side with Buddhism. A village elder arrived and we all sat in a circle around a small table on which a variety of offerings were displayed – a small chicken, sticky rice, biscuits, money, flowers and lào-láo (rice whisky). The old man recited a blessing to ensure that our guardian spirits would remain with us on our long journey back.
The elder then tied a piece of string around each wrist of the expedition member next to him. He then moved around the circle and tied strings to each of our wrists. He was followed by all the guides and locals, who did the same while wishing us well on our journey.
In Lao tradition, the soul consists of many guardian spirits that occasionally wander away from their owner. These must be called back and bound to the body to ensure a person is properly protected before any important undertaking. It is believed that the string must be worn for at least three full days to ensure the desired effect.
When we left for Houay Xai we still wore our bracelets of white string.
The old man then left and we adjourned to the tables outside for dinner, speeches and beer. The following morning we bid farewell to everyone and set off for the border town of Houay Xai, making sure we had our spirits firmly attached to us.
Vieng Phoukha is a new area for trekking and caving. It is a three- to four-hour drive from the border of Houay Xai, which is easily reached from Chiang Rai in northern Thailand.
ECO-GUIDES SERVICE
Vieng Phoukha
Luang Namtha Province
Lao PDR
Tel : +856-81-212-400
E-mail: mpvpk@laotel.com
20 August 2008
Chasing tigers and elephants - Star
THE STAR
Saturday July 17, 2004
Chasing tigers and elephants
By Liz Price
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the middle of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?– from The Tiger, by William Blake (1757-1827)
EVER since my first visit to Asia two decades ago, it has been my ambition to see a wild elephant, and, even more than that, a tiger in the wild.
As I spent months backpacking around India, I visited several nature parks and wildlife sanctuaries. I went to the Jim Corbett National Park where many people managed to see tigers. Indeed the day I arrived, a group of European visitors had just seen a mother tiger with cubs in the morning. This got my hopes up, and I eagerly went in search the next day. I saw nothing.
There were small reptiles, many species of birds, several types of deer, but no tigers. Those feline creatures were certainly elusive. This was the first national park in India, situated in the north of Uttar Pradesh, 300km from Delhi. It was here that Project Tiger was launched 30 years ago with the aim of saving the tiger from extinction. Had they suddenly became extinct on the eve of my visit?
I didn’t even see any wild elephants there, and the park is actually known for its elephants. Where were they all?
I had the choice of doing an elephant safari, which meant riding an elephant in order to spot other wildlife, but opted to do a jeep safari, in the hope that I would cover more terrain. I did, but it was unsuccessful and I was unlucky.
Later on my Indian travels, I went to the Sunderbans Tiger Reserve, the world’s largest delta and mangrove swamp, and the world’s largest estuarine sanctuary, situated 130km from Calcutta in West Bengal. There are an estimated 270 Royal Bengal tigers in the wildlife sanctuary, so I had high hopes. Many of these tigers are man-eaters. They are prone to attacking humans for food, and the locals resort to wearing masks on the back of their heads when working in their fields, in an attempt to put off the tigers.
The tigers usually become man-eaters due to the lack of other suitable prey in the area. There are an average of 40 maulings a year here.
I spent several days in the park, accompanied by armed officers. I slept in remote huts, climbed up watchtowers, sat up overnight. But nothing. Even a dead goat tied to the lower branches of a tree as bait didn’t attract any striped visitors. The Sunderbans is home to spotted deer, wild pigs, monkeys, herons, kingfishers and eagles, and although I saw most of those creatures, the 270 tigers were in hiding.
In Nepal I went to the Royal Chittwan Reserve. This park is noted for its one horned rhino, but it also has tigers. I did a safari on elephant-back to go animal-spotting. Yes I saw the rhinos, which was really wonderful and exciting. But once again, the tigers were conspicuous by their absence.
So I moved on to Thailand, and saw neither of the large mammals I was seeking in the wild. Next stop – Malaysia. I knew Malaysia still had wild tiger and elephant populations, but sightings were not particularly common. I backpacked around Malaysia for two months, and saw neither creature in the wild. I travelled on to Indonesia, knowing I wouldn’t see those creatures there either. In Australia I saw wild camels, but of course no elephants or tigers. I had seen scores of wild elephants in Africa, but my desire was to see the Asian or Indian elephant.
I returned to Malaysia and spent some time doing voluntary projects with WWF Malaysia. This involved camping out in the jungle for days on end, up to 10 days at a time. We saw virtually every creature that lives in Malaysia, except for the rhino and . . . yes, you guessed it, the tiger and elephant.
My closest sighting was in Kelantan when I was on a caving trip. The scientist in the group, Dr Dionysius Sharma (Dino) spotted elephant AND tiger footprints right outside a cave. I was so excited because this was my closest to sighting either of these creatures. There was one print of each, and they were quite fresh. We went into the cave, which emerged on the other side of the hill, where we found mouse-deer, tapir and pig tracks, and more excitingly, three or four fresh elephant footprints.
We decided to go animal spotting that night. We set up camp a safe distance away in some rubber trees, then returned to the area to wait. When I heard a noise, I was convinced it was an elephant, until Dino told me it was a frog. Oh well, try again! We stayed there for several hours, but saw nothing. Once again those pachyderms were not going to show themselves to me.
Over the years I made several trips to Taman Negara, staying up to a month at a time. I spent several nights trekking with one of the rangers, Mat Zin, but we didn’t see what I was looking for – although I did have a nose-to-nose encounter with a large, bird-eating spider which was dangling from a tree. Zin told me that it was very rare for even the rangers to see tigers nowadays. They occasionally see the tracks but not the actual animal.
It was getting frustrating.
I did a lot of trekking alone, and stayed in the hides. I was lucky, and saw the “rarer” mammals such as the tapir and even a panther on one occasion. And I saw elephant footprints and even took photos as evidence. And then Lady Luck smiled on me. I trekked out to the caves in the Kepayang area in Perak, and slept overnight in Gua Kepayang Besar.
Actually I didn’t sleep, as it was the most terrifying night of my life. I was all alone. Firstly, I was startled by lights flashing above my head, until I realised they were merely fireflies, and then I laughed at myself for being so stupid. But after I had settled down to sleep I was disconcerted to hear scuffling and rustling noises close by. I kept shining my torch but could see nothing. The noises continued, and my fears mounted, and then I saw them – porcupine going about their normal nights business, totally unfazed by my presence.
I decided they were quite cute and nothing to worry about. But I still couldn’t sleep.
Outside there was the sound of snuffling and movement and branches cracking. No way was I going out to find out what was there, and I spent the rest of the night restlessly tossing and turning as if I was on a bed of nettles.
As soon as the sun came up, I packed my bags, not wishing to spend a moment longer there than I had to. As I left the cave I walked straight into a pile of fresh, still steaming, elephant dung. That would explain the sound of cracking branches during the night.
I set off on my trek, and about 30 minutes later I suddenly realised there was a large grey form ahead of me. My mind was still unsettled after my scary night and I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes. I wondered what was ahead of me in the gloom of the forest. And then I realised it was the donor of the steaming dung left outside the cave. Eureka! I had found my elephant.
But I am ashamed to say that I ran away. I was so on edge, with nerves as taut as violin strings, that as soon as I saw the creature, I turned tail and quietly hurried away. My mind was telling me stories of how elephants sometimes attack humans, and because I was all alone, I wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. Once I was a safe distance away, I really regretted my action, as I hadn’t even stopped to take a photograph. But better safe than sorry.
Since then, I have been lucky enough to see the wild elephants in the Kinabatangan area of Sabah. I saw a total of about 15, and was able to get very close indeed to some of them. And it was exciting to learn, a month after my visit, that these elephants have been declared to be a new, distinct subspecies, the Pygmy elephant. Originally it was thought they were a member of the Asian elephant group. I was fortunate to have seen them, as not all visitors to that area are so lucky.
So finally, I have seen the Asian elephant and its cousin the Pygmy elephant in the wild. I have seen the African elephant in its natural surroundings. And I’ve ridden the tamed Indian elephant. All that remains now is to track down that elusive tiger . . .
Saturday July 17, 2004
Chasing tigers and elephants
By Liz Price
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the middle of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?– from The Tiger, by William Blake (1757-1827)
EVER since my first visit to Asia two decades ago, it has been my ambition to see a wild elephant, and, even more than that, a tiger in the wild.
As I spent months backpacking around India, I visited several nature parks and wildlife sanctuaries. I went to the Jim Corbett National Park where many people managed to see tigers. Indeed the day I arrived, a group of European visitors had just seen a mother tiger with cubs in the morning. This got my hopes up, and I eagerly went in search the next day. I saw nothing.
There were small reptiles, many species of birds, several types of deer, but no tigers. Those feline creatures were certainly elusive. This was the first national park in India, situated in the north of Uttar Pradesh, 300km from Delhi. It was here that Project Tiger was launched 30 years ago with the aim of saving the tiger from extinction. Had they suddenly became extinct on the eve of my visit?
I didn’t even see any wild elephants there, and the park is actually known for its elephants. Where were they all?
I had the choice of doing an elephant safari, which meant riding an elephant in order to spot other wildlife, but opted to do a jeep safari, in the hope that I would cover more terrain. I did, but it was unsuccessful and I was unlucky.
Later on my Indian travels, I went to the Sunderbans Tiger Reserve, the world’s largest delta and mangrove swamp, and the world’s largest estuarine sanctuary, situated 130km from Calcutta in West Bengal. There are an estimated 270 Royal Bengal tigers in the wildlife sanctuary, so I had high hopes. Many of these tigers are man-eaters. They are prone to attacking humans for food, and the locals resort to wearing masks on the back of their heads when working in their fields, in an attempt to put off the tigers.
The tigers usually become man-eaters due to the lack of other suitable prey in the area. There are an average of 40 maulings a year here.
I spent several days in the park, accompanied by armed officers. I slept in remote huts, climbed up watchtowers, sat up overnight. But nothing. Even a dead goat tied to the lower branches of a tree as bait didn’t attract any striped visitors. The Sunderbans is home to spotted deer, wild pigs, monkeys, herons, kingfishers and eagles, and although I saw most of those creatures, the 270 tigers were in hiding.
In Nepal I went to the Royal Chittwan Reserve. This park is noted for its one horned rhino, but it also has tigers. I did a safari on elephant-back to go animal-spotting. Yes I saw the rhinos, which was really wonderful and exciting. But once again, the tigers were conspicuous by their absence.
So I moved on to Thailand, and saw neither of the large mammals I was seeking in the wild. Next stop – Malaysia. I knew Malaysia still had wild tiger and elephant populations, but sightings were not particularly common. I backpacked around Malaysia for two months, and saw neither creature in the wild. I travelled on to Indonesia, knowing I wouldn’t see those creatures there either. In Australia I saw wild camels, but of course no elephants or tigers. I had seen scores of wild elephants in Africa, but my desire was to see the Asian or Indian elephant.
I returned to Malaysia and spent some time doing voluntary projects with WWF Malaysia. This involved camping out in the jungle for days on end, up to 10 days at a time. We saw virtually every creature that lives in Malaysia, except for the rhino and . . . yes, you guessed it, the tiger and elephant.
My closest sighting was in Kelantan when I was on a caving trip. The scientist in the group, Dr Dionysius Sharma (Dino) spotted elephant AND tiger footprints right outside a cave. I was so excited because this was my closest to sighting either of these creatures. There was one print of each, and they were quite fresh. We went into the cave, which emerged on the other side of the hill, where we found mouse-deer, tapir and pig tracks, and more excitingly, three or four fresh elephant footprints.
We decided to go animal spotting that night. We set up camp a safe distance away in some rubber trees, then returned to the area to wait. When I heard a noise, I was convinced it was an elephant, until Dino told me it was a frog. Oh well, try again! We stayed there for several hours, but saw nothing. Once again those pachyderms were not going to show themselves to me.
Over the years I made several trips to Taman Negara, staying up to a month at a time. I spent several nights trekking with one of the rangers, Mat Zin, but we didn’t see what I was looking for – although I did have a nose-to-nose encounter with a large, bird-eating spider which was dangling from a tree. Zin told me that it was very rare for even the rangers to see tigers nowadays. They occasionally see the tracks but not the actual animal.
It was getting frustrating.
I did a lot of trekking alone, and stayed in the hides. I was lucky, and saw the “rarer” mammals such as the tapir and even a panther on one occasion. And I saw elephant footprints and even took photos as evidence. And then Lady Luck smiled on me. I trekked out to the caves in the Kepayang area in Perak, and slept overnight in Gua Kepayang Besar.
Actually I didn’t sleep, as it was the most terrifying night of my life. I was all alone. Firstly, I was startled by lights flashing above my head, until I realised they were merely fireflies, and then I laughed at myself for being so stupid. But after I had settled down to sleep I was disconcerted to hear scuffling and rustling noises close by. I kept shining my torch but could see nothing. The noises continued, and my fears mounted, and then I saw them – porcupine going about their normal nights business, totally unfazed by my presence.
I decided they were quite cute and nothing to worry about. But I still couldn’t sleep.
Outside there was the sound of snuffling and movement and branches cracking. No way was I going out to find out what was there, and I spent the rest of the night restlessly tossing and turning as if I was on a bed of nettles.
As soon as the sun came up, I packed my bags, not wishing to spend a moment longer there than I had to. As I left the cave I walked straight into a pile of fresh, still steaming, elephant dung. That would explain the sound of cracking branches during the night.
I set off on my trek, and about 30 minutes later I suddenly realised there was a large grey form ahead of me. My mind was still unsettled after my scary night and I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes. I wondered what was ahead of me in the gloom of the forest. And then I realised it was the donor of the steaming dung left outside the cave. Eureka! I had found my elephant.
But I am ashamed to say that I ran away. I was so on edge, with nerves as taut as violin strings, that as soon as I saw the creature, I turned tail and quietly hurried away. My mind was telling me stories of how elephants sometimes attack humans, and because I was all alone, I wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. Once I was a safe distance away, I really regretted my action, as I hadn’t even stopped to take a photograph. But better safe than sorry.
Since then, I have been lucky enough to see the wild elephants in the Kinabatangan area of Sabah. I saw a total of about 15, and was able to get very close indeed to some of them. And it was exciting to learn, a month after my visit, that these elephants have been declared to be a new, distinct subspecies, the Pygmy elephant. Originally it was thought they were a member of the Asian elephant group. I was fortunate to have seen them, as not all visitors to that area are so lucky.
So finally, I have seen the Asian elephant and its cousin the Pygmy elephant in the wild. I have seen the African elephant in its natural surroundings. And I’ve ridden the tamed Indian elephant. All that remains now is to track down that elusive tiger . . .
Cave critters - Star
THE STAR
Saturday, July 27, 2002
Cave critters
By LIZ PRICE
MY MOST terrifying night was the one I spent alone in a cave in Taman Negara. I was kept awake by fears of wild animals, my imagination running riot. Several times during that long night, I saw porcupines walking past, but to my surprise they took no notice and carried on their nocturnal wanderings as if I wasn’t there. Fireflies occasionally flew past, their eerie green glow startling me at first.
My main fear, however, was of tigers and elephants.
Would I provide a handy meal for a tiger? Or would I be trampled underfoot by an elephant? Elephants at Taman Negara regularly visit caves, although it is not really known why. Maybe they visit to lick salts, like their relatives in the Kitum Caves, Kenya. Although I saw neither tiger nor elephant, I was greeted by a steaming pile of elephant dung only a few metres away when I left the cave in the morning.
Cave racers feed on bats.
Animals found in Malaysian caves range from tiny microscopic organisms invisible to the naked eye right through to elephants. However not all these creatures are troglobites or cave dwellers. Some are troglophiles (animals found in caves but which can also live outside); others are trogloxenes (cave dwellers which go outside to feed). Cave visitors include man and elephants.
Studies on the cave fauna in Malaysia began in 1898 when Henry Nicholas Ridley examined the Batu Caves in West Malaysia. Various other scientists followed his footsteps, sending their collections worldwide for identification. In Batu Caves alone, more than 144 species of invertebrates were found. Over in Borneo, Lord Medway has done most of the work on cave fauna, mainly in Sarawak, specialising on the bats and swiftlets.
The cave food chain is quite complex, but everything ultimately depends on the bat for survival. This is because the bats are the only creatures that leave the cave to go out and feed. There are two types of bat, the insect eaters and the fruit bats. Each night they would go out to feed on insects, fruits or pollen, and it is their guano or excreta deposited in the cave that supports the whole food chain, from the smallest bug through to the cave-dwelling snake.
The guano of the fruit bats is very nutritious compared to that of the insect bats. This can easily be seen just by looking at the life contained in the guano: the rich fruit bat’s guano found near the cave entrance is absolutely heaving with life, much more so than the guano from the insect-eating bats. So the fruit bats in particular support the invertebrates.
Many people have a fear of bats, probably because of legends and Hollywood vampire films. But bats are very useful to man, especially for fruit lovers, as they help to pollinate durian and petai, which flower at night. So without the bats there would be less durians.
They also help to control the insect population. In Deer Cave in Mulu alone an estimated 1–2 million (maybe more) bats live there. Every night they fly out to feed, each one eating at least 10g of insects during a night of hunting, so this is at least 10 tonnes of insects consumed in a single night. Can you imagine 10 tonnes of mosquitoes? This results in a few of tonnes of guano falling onto the floor each day. Deer Cave is parti-cularly rich in invertebrate life.
Bats can be very fussy about which cave to roost in, and if conditions are not quite right they won’t stay. A cave without bats means no other animals will be found. The guano is home and food to countless creatures: flies, maggots, beetles, bugs, millipedes, springtails, cockroaches, worms, mites, moths. They make the guano look as if it has a life of its own as it heaves and flows like thick liquid and, if disturbed, the creatures frantically try to bury themselves.
These animals are in turn fed upon by the cave crickets, centipedes, whip scorpions, true scorpions, spiders and the like. And in turn, they provide food for small mammals, frogs and toads. Animal carcasses, especially those of bats, are scavenged upon almost immediately, and soon nothing remains except the bare skeleton.
The water dwellers such as the debris feeders, larvae and flat worms are eaten by snails, fish, and crabs. Catfish can be seen in some cave rivers and there are various species of white crab, especially in Mulu and Bidi. The bats and the cave swiftlets have parasites such as mite, chiggers, ticks, fleas and flies. Particularly noticeable in Deer Cave are the Hairy Earwigs, which live on the Naked Bats, feeding on oils produced by the bats to protect their skin.
And at the top of this whole food chain is the cave racer. The cave racer (Elaphe taeniura) is the only snake that is adapted to spend its whole life in a cave, feeding exclusively on bats and swiftlets. The racer can climb walls to reach its prey, where it will rest with its head hanging out waiting for its dinner to fly past. It then constricts its prey before swallowing it. Another expert climber is the Egg-eating cricket, which will climb to reach swiftlet eggs and chicks left unguarded in nests.
Other types of snakes are occasionally found in caves, especially pythons, but these have come in by accident, and cannot survive there, so we usually try to take them out. Animals using caves as a shelter include moths, fireflies and sandflies. Potter wasps and hornets built nests at cave entrances, which is always a worry for the human visitor. Larger animals include rodents, porcupine, pigs, deer, leo-pard, serow and elephants. Sometimes domestic house cats turn feral and move into a cave.
Many people think of cave fauna as being blind and white in colour, like the Proteus salamander in Slovenia, but this is not the case. The only white troglobite is the cave crab, which is eyeless, and found in Mulu. But the Bidi cave crabs still have eyes and pigments. The blind crabs along with the millipedes and whip scorpions are apparently the only troglobites without eyes. All the others have reduced eyes and pigments.
The cave racer in Peninsula Malaysia is a creamy white colour, but in Borneo it is a much darker grey colour with a more defined pattern.
People have mistaken the white cockroach to be a new species, whereas in fact it is only the normal cockroach which is moulting and has shed its skin. After a short while the white colour will darken to the normal brown. Near urban areas, the house cockroach is making its home in caves and seems to be taking over from the smaller, indigenous cave roach, possibly upsetting the natural balance.
The insect troglobites often have very long feelers to navigate and to hunt their prey, and also elongated legs. The feelers and legs can be several times longer than the body, especially the long legged centipedes, the cricket and the whip scorpion. The only two poisonous invertebrates are the centipedes and the scorpion, both of which can also be found in the forest.
Unfortunately man is also upsetting the balance of the cave ecosystem. Bat guano is collected from many caves for use as fertiliser. This practice has been going on for well over 100 years, and many archaeological remains have been lost through indiscriminate collection. In some caves pits over 2-3m deep can be seen where the guano has been removed. Cockroaches are also taken from caves for bait by fishermen.
The nests of the cave swiftlets have been harvested by man for centuries to make bird’s nest soup. The edible nests fetch a high price on the market: 1kg of white nest costs more than US$1,000 (RM3,800). In the past the nests were collected all year round, resulting in a depletion of swiftlet numbers. Now in many caves in Borneo the harvest is restricted to two or three times a year to give the bird population a chance to recover. During the removal of the nests, baby birds sometimes fall to the floor and they die.
Luckily, many humans are squeamish and repelled by the sight and smell of guano, the bats and cockroaches, and therefore the casual visitor tends to avoid these caves thereby leaving the fauna undisturbed. But for people with a genuine interest, caves provide a fascinating place to see a whole range of fauna going about their everyday life.
Saturday, July 27, 2002
Cave critters
By LIZ PRICE
MY MOST terrifying night was the one I spent alone in a cave in Taman Negara. I was kept awake by fears of wild animals, my imagination running riot. Several times during that long night, I saw porcupines walking past, but to my surprise they took no notice and carried on their nocturnal wanderings as if I wasn’t there. Fireflies occasionally flew past, their eerie green glow startling me at first.
My main fear, however, was of tigers and elephants.
Would I provide a handy meal for a tiger? Or would I be trampled underfoot by an elephant? Elephants at Taman Negara regularly visit caves, although it is not really known why. Maybe they visit to lick salts, like their relatives in the Kitum Caves, Kenya. Although I saw neither tiger nor elephant, I was greeted by a steaming pile of elephant dung only a few metres away when I left the cave in the morning.
Cave racers feed on bats.
Animals found in Malaysian caves range from tiny microscopic organisms invisible to the naked eye right through to elephants. However not all these creatures are troglobites or cave dwellers. Some are troglophiles (animals found in caves but which can also live outside); others are trogloxenes (cave dwellers which go outside to feed). Cave visitors include man and elephants.
Studies on the cave fauna in Malaysia began in 1898 when Henry Nicholas Ridley examined the Batu Caves in West Malaysia. Various other scientists followed his footsteps, sending their collections worldwide for identification. In Batu Caves alone, more than 144 species of invertebrates were found. Over in Borneo, Lord Medway has done most of the work on cave fauna, mainly in Sarawak, specialising on the bats and swiftlets.
The cave food chain is quite complex, but everything ultimately depends on the bat for survival. This is because the bats are the only creatures that leave the cave to go out and feed. There are two types of bat, the insect eaters and the fruit bats. Each night they would go out to feed on insects, fruits or pollen, and it is their guano or excreta deposited in the cave that supports the whole food chain, from the smallest bug through to the cave-dwelling snake.
The guano of the fruit bats is very nutritious compared to that of the insect bats. This can easily be seen just by looking at the life contained in the guano: the rich fruit bat’s guano found near the cave entrance is absolutely heaving with life, much more so than the guano from the insect-eating bats. So the fruit bats in particular support the invertebrates.
Many people have a fear of bats, probably because of legends and Hollywood vampire films. But bats are very useful to man, especially for fruit lovers, as they help to pollinate durian and petai, which flower at night. So without the bats there would be less durians.
They also help to control the insect population. In Deer Cave in Mulu alone an estimated 1–2 million (maybe more) bats live there. Every night they fly out to feed, each one eating at least 10g of insects during a night of hunting, so this is at least 10 tonnes of insects consumed in a single night. Can you imagine 10 tonnes of mosquitoes? This results in a few of tonnes of guano falling onto the floor each day. Deer Cave is parti-cularly rich in invertebrate life.
Bats can be very fussy about which cave to roost in, and if conditions are not quite right they won’t stay. A cave without bats means no other animals will be found. The guano is home and food to countless creatures: flies, maggots, beetles, bugs, millipedes, springtails, cockroaches, worms, mites, moths. They make the guano look as if it has a life of its own as it heaves and flows like thick liquid and, if disturbed, the creatures frantically try to bury themselves.
These animals are in turn fed upon by the cave crickets, centipedes, whip scorpions, true scorpions, spiders and the like. And in turn, they provide food for small mammals, frogs and toads. Animal carcasses, especially those of bats, are scavenged upon almost immediately, and soon nothing remains except the bare skeleton.
The water dwellers such as the debris feeders, larvae and flat worms are eaten by snails, fish, and crabs. Catfish can be seen in some cave rivers and there are various species of white crab, especially in Mulu and Bidi. The bats and the cave swiftlets have parasites such as mite, chiggers, ticks, fleas and flies. Particularly noticeable in Deer Cave are the Hairy Earwigs, which live on the Naked Bats, feeding on oils produced by the bats to protect their skin.
And at the top of this whole food chain is the cave racer. The cave racer (Elaphe taeniura) is the only snake that is adapted to spend its whole life in a cave, feeding exclusively on bats and swiftlets. The racer can climb walls to reach its prey, where it will rest with its head hanging out waiting for its dinner to fly past. It then constricts its prey before swallowing it. Another expert climber is the Egg-eating cricket, which will climb to reach swiftlet eggs and chicks left unguarded in nests.
Other types of snakes are occasionally found in caves, especially pythons, but these have come in by accident, and cannot survive there, so we usually try to take them out. Animals using caves as a shelter include moths, fireflies and sandflies. Potter wasps and hornets built nests at cave entrances, which is always a worry for the human visitor. Larger animals include rodents, porcupine, pigs, deer, leo-pard, serow and elephants. Sometimes domestic house cats turn feral and move into a cave.
Many people think of cave fauna as being blind and white in colour, like the Proteus salamander in Slovenia, but this is not the case. The only white troglobite is the cave crab, which is eyeless, and found in Mulu. But the Bidi cave crabs still have eyes and pigments. The blind crabs along with the millipedes and whip scorpions are apparently the only troglobites without eyes. All the others have reduced eyes and pigments.
The cave racer in Peninsula Malaysia is a creamy white colour, but in Borneo it is a much darker grey colour with a more defined pattern.
People have mistaken the white cockroach to be a new species, whereas in fact it is only the normal cockroach which is moulting and has shed its skin. After a short while the white colour will darken to the normal brown. Near urban areas, the house cockroach is making its home in caves and seems to be taking over from the smaller, indigenous cave roach, possibly upsetting the natural balance.
The insect troglobites often have very long feelers to navigate and to hunt their prey, and also elongated legs. The feelers and legs can be several times longer than the body, especially the long legged centipedes, the cricket and the whip scorpion. The only two poisonous invertebrates are the centipedes and the scorpion, both of which can also be found in the forest.
Unfortunately man is also upsetting the balance of the cave ecosystem. Bat guano is collected from many caves for use as fertiliser. This practice has been going on for well over 100 years, and many archaeological remains have been lost through indiscriminate collection. In some caves pits over 2-3m deep can be seen where the guano has been removed. Cockroaches are also taken from caves for bait by fishermen.
The nests of the cave swiftlets have been harvested by man for centuries to make bird’s nest soup. The edible nests fetch a high price on the market: 1kg of white nest costs more than US$1,000 (RM3,800). In the past the nests were collected all year round, resulting in a depletion of swiftlet numbers. Now in many caves in Borneo the harvest is restricted to two or three times a year to give the bird population a chance to recover. During the removal of the nests, baby birds sometimes fall to the floor and they die.
Luckily, many humans are squeamish and repelled by the sight and smell of guano, the bats and cockroaches, and therefore the casual visitor tends to avoid these caves thereby leaving the fauna undisturbed. But for people with a genuine interest, caves provide a fascinating place to see a whole range of fauna going about their everyday life.
Batu Maloi (All Malaysia)
Published on All Malaysia.info www
The cave that wasn’t
By Liz Price
When is a cave not a cave? That of course depends on whom you ask. Generally a caver will say a cave is a natural opening in rock big enough for a human to enter. Most caves are in limestone formations. So I was sceptical when I kept coming across tourist leaflets which described a cave in Negri Sembilan as being 1km long.
I knew there were no limestone outcrops south of Kuala Lumpur, and I couldn’t imagine that there could be such a long cave that Malaysian cavers hadn’t heard of.
There was only one thing to do to satisfy my curiosity – go and investigate.
I found a willing victim – sorry, volunteer – to accompany me. My friend Mick is not a caver but I told him he could enjoy the day out in a forest reserve and wait in the sunshine while I explored any cave I might find.
The writer wading through the rush of water between boulders.
Pinpointing the location
So one bright morning we set off for the wilds of Negri Sembilan.
According to the tourist leaflets, the Batu Maloi Cave was in the Kampung Tanggai Forest Reserve in the Johol sub-district, 35km from Kuala Pilah. But they neglected to say in which direction from Kuala Pilah, and didn’t mark the reserve on the map!
Another write-up said the cave was 10 minutes from Johol and 30 minutes from Tampin. Well, at least from this I could roughly pinpoint the position.
I assumed the 10 minutes was by vehicle rather than by Shank’s pony.
We set off from Kuala Lumpur to Seremban, and then turned onto the Rembau road. From Rembau we went left onto the Johol road, and climbed up and over a big hill, which was covered in virgin rainforest.
The 884m Gunung Rembau was on our right. It was sad to see the forest alongside the road being cut, presumably for road widening. As we sped down the hill from the summit, there was a police roadblock at the bottom. I think the police were surprised to see two Mat Sallehs on this country road and just waved us through.
As we reached Johol and headed for Tampin, I made a note of time and distance, so I could estimate roughly where Batu Maloi was. After some time, I thought we had overshot.
So I stopped and asked some workmen, and we went back to Renggoh and turned off by the school. Six kilometres down this road, we finally saw a sign to Gua Batu Maloi.
A cluster of fragrant blossoms belonging to the Saraca, a common riverine tree.
Granite, not limestone
There were cows ambling down this lane and they made no effort to get out of the way, not expecting visitors mid-week. The lane ended near a surau, at a pleasant campsite situated by the river.
A signboard announced that there was indeed a cave, and as I suspected, it was of granite. The board also highlighted the dangers of caving.
We followed the path into the campsite and then got a bit confused as to the way on. We chose a trail which followed the river. We came to a junction after a short while, and I saw a few large boulders by the water.
This looked like the start of the so-called cave and an arrow marked the way in. But neither of us wanted to get our feet wet this early on, so we elected to take the forest path, to see where it went.
It meandered gently uphill, and after a while we noticed a very pleasant smell, which reminded us of honeysuckle. Looking round for the source, I noticed some orange flowers high in the tree canopy.
Then we spied a few flowers closer to us, almost at ground level. This orange blossom belongs to the Saraca, which is a common riverine tree. Although the individual flowers are nothing special to look at, together they provide a bright orange canopy, and their scent is very nice.
Impressive monolith
I was keeping an eye out for leeches, as this was ideal territory for them. Luckily they didn’t seem very abundant. This suggested there weren’t many mammals around in this area, and indeed we saw none, not even monkeys.
We came to a dilapidated wooden shelter later. I wondered who had had to carry all the materials up here to build the shelter, which had fallen apart through neglect.
Nearby was a huge granite boulder. This isolated monolith was about 8m high and 15m long. It was a very impressive sight.
The writer's friend Mick gets dirty scrabbling up and down some muddy slopes.
Mysterious creature?
After a while the trail began to descend. We soon reached the river, and I could see we were above the start of the cave. We decided to continue upstream for a short while, just to explore. We stepped into the clear water and paddled upriver. In this way we got rid of the few leeches that had attached themselves to our feet. Birds were singing on either side of us, and the sun shone brightly though the thick foliage of the tall trees.
We came across another cluster of Saraca trees with the same sweet scent. There were fallen logs covered with bracket fungi. At one point we saw an animal’s footprint in the mud, and were very puzzled as we only saw one print. What mysterious creature had left it?
Frogs plopping
The shady spot under the Saraca trees would have been an ideal place for a picnic, but we had nothing with us. So it was time to turn round, and go and investigate the cave at the huge boulders situated in the riverbed. Arrows painted on the rocks marked the way through, although in fact there was only one route here.
This section of cave was a mere 15m long, and had natural light filtering through. Mick, my friend, however decided he would go around the outside and meet me at the other end.
I soon popped out of the first section of cave and plodded downstream to the next set of boulders. Here the cave was a bit narrower and I was glad to have my torch.
A rope showed the way through, and I found the first section had quite deep water. The rush of water between the boulders and the plop of frogs as they jumped into the water when I disturbed them was quite atmospheric.
In the next part, I decided the water was possibly too deep to keep my daypack dry, so I hauled myself up and over some huge boulders and carefully inched my way across the top and down the other side.
Somehow I managed to slip the last few feet and landed in deep water. Luckily I managed to keep my camera dry.
It was fun negotiating this natural obstacle course. It was as if some giant long ago had been playing marbles with these huge stones, and had lost interest and left them scattered in the river bed.
I went through the final section of cave, and found Mick waiting for me on the other side. He had managed to get rather dirty, scrabbling up and down some muddy slopes. We had both had fun.
As suspected, Batu Maloi wasn’t a cave in the true sense of the word, but it was an interesting place and worthy of a visit.
Originally published in The Star on Saturday March 27, 2004
The cave that wasn’t
By Liz Price
When is a cave not a cave? That of course depends on whom you ask. Generally a caver will say a cave is a natural opening in rock big enough for a human to enter. Most caves are in limestone formations. So I was sceptical when I kept coming across tourist leaflets which described a cave in Negri Sembilan as being 1km long.
I knew there were no limestone outcrops south of Kuala Lumpur, and I couldn’t imagine that there could be such a long cave that Malaysian cavers hadn’t heard of.
There was only one thing to do to satisfy my curiosity – go and investigate.
I found a willing victim – sorry, volunteer – to accompany me. My friend Mick is not a caver but I told him he could enjoy the day out in a forest reserve and wait in the sunshine while I explored any cave I might find.
The writer wading through the rush of water between boulders.
Pinpointing the location
So one bright morning we set off for the wilds of Negri Sembilan.
According to the tourist leaflets, the Batu Maloi Cave was in the Kampung Tanggai Forest Reserve in the Johol sub-district, 35km from Kuala Pilah. But they neglected to say in which direction from Kuala Pilah, and didn’t mark the reserve on the map!
Another write-up said the cave was 10 minutes from Johol and 30 minutes from Tampin. Well, at least from this I could roughly pinpoint the position.
I assumed the 10 minutes was by vehicle rather than by Shank’s pony.
We set off from Kuala Lumpur to Seremban, and then turned onto the Rembau road. From Rembau we went left onto the Johol road, and climbed up and over a big hill, which was covered in virgin rainforest.
The 884m Gunung Rembau was on our right. It was sad to see the forest alongside the road being cut, presumably for road widening. As we sped down the hill from the summit, there was a police roadblock at the bottom. I think the police were surprised to see two Mat Sallehs on this country road and just waved us through.
As we reached Johol and headed for Tampin, I made a note of time and distance, so I could estimate roughly where Batu Maloi was. After some time, I thought we had overshot.
So I stopped and asked some workmen, and we went back to Renggoh and turned off by the school. Six kilometres down this road, we finally saw a sign to Gua Batu Maloi.
A cluster of fragrant blossoms belonging to the Saraca, a common riverine tree.
Granite, not limestone
There were cows ambling down this lane and they made no effort to get out of the way, not expecting visitors mid-week. The lane ended near a surau, at a pleasant campsite situated by the river.
A signboard announced that there was indeed a cave, and as I suspected, it was of granite. The board also highlighted the dangers of caving.
We followed the path into the campsite and then got a bit confused as to the way on. We chose a trail which followed the river. We came to a junction after a short while, and I saw a few large boulders by the water.
This looked like the start of the so-called cave and an arrow marked the way in. But neither of us wanted to get our feet wet this early on, so we elected to take the forest path, to see where it went.
It meandered gently uphill, and after a while we noticed a very pleasant smell, which reminded us of honeysuckle. Looking round for the source, I noticed some orange flowers high in the tree canopy.
Then we spied a few flowers closer to us, almost at ground level. This orange blossom belongs to the Saraca, which is a common riverine tree. Although the individual flowers are nothing special to look at, together they provide a bright orange canopy, and their scent is very nice.
Impressive monolith
I was keeping an eye out for leeches, as this was ideal territory for them. Luckily they didn’t seem very abundant. This suggested there weren’t many mammals around in this area, and indeed we saw none, not even monkeys.
We came to a dilapidated wooden shelter later. I wondered who had had to carry all the materials up here to build the shelter, which had fallen apart through neglect.
Nearby was a huge granite boulder. This isolated monolith was about 8m high and 15m long. It was a very impressive sight.
The writer's friend Mick gets dirty scrabbling up and down some muddy slopes.
Mysterious creature?
After a while the trail began to descend. We soon reached the river, and I could see we were above the start of the cave. We decided to continue upstream for a short while, just to explore. We stepped into the clear water and paddled upriver. In this way we got rid of the few leeches that had attached themselves to our feet. Birds were singing on either side of us, and the sun shone brightly though the thick foliage of the tall trees.
We came across another cluster of Saraca trees with the same sweet scent. There were fallen logs covered with bracket fungi. At one point we saw an animal’s footprint in the mud, and were very puzzled as we only saw one print. What mysterious creature had left it?
Frogs plopping
The shady spot under the Saraca trees would have been an ideal place for a picnic, but we had nothing with us. So it was time to turn round, and go and investigate the cave at the huge boulders situated in the riverbed. Arrows painted on the rocks marked the way through, although in fact there was only one route here.
This section of cave was a mere 15m long, and had natural light filtering through. Mick, my friend, however decided he would go around the outside and meet me at the other end.
I soon popped out of the first section of cave and plodded downstream to the next set of boulders. Here the cave was a bit narrower and I was glad to have my torch.
A rope showed the way through, and I found the first section had quite deep water. The rush of water between the boulders and the plop of frogs as they jumped into the water when I disturbed them was quite atmospheric.
In the next part, I decided the water was possibly too deep to keep my daypack dry, so I hauled myself up and over some huge boulders and carefully inched my way across the top and down the other side.
Somehow I managed to slip the last few feet and landed in deep water. Luckily I managed to keep my camera dry.
It was fun negotiating this natural obstacle course. It was as if some giant long ago had been playing marbles with these huge stones, and had lost interest and left them scattered in the river bed.
I went through the final section of cave, and found Mick waiting for me on the other side. He had managed to get rather dirty, scrabbling up and down some muddy slopes. We had both had fun.
As suspected, Batu Maloi wasn’t a cave in the true sense of the word, but it was an interesting place and worthy of a visit.
Originally published in The Star on Saturday March 27, 2004
19 August 2008
Treasures of Trang - Star
THE STAR
Saturday, March 22, 2003
Treasures of Trang
By Liz Price
The gooey mud was sucking at my shoes in a determined attempt to drag them from my feet. I tried another couple of steps but it was a real battle against the tenacious hold of the mud.
I could see the sandal straps straining and likely to part company from the sole. The only option was to remove my footwear and continue barefoot. For the first couple of steps, it was an odd sensation as cold, clammy mud oozed between my toes and slid over my foot as I squelched forward. But I soon got used to the feeling and realised I had a better grip in the mud, though I needed to be careful not to stub my toes on stones and rocks. And to think I was paying for the pleasure of this!
The setting – a show cave in Trang province, Thailand. My friends and I had driven from KL to southern Thailand for a long weekend of adventure, both caving and culinary. That was how we found ourselves in the mud at Tham Lae, also known as Tham Khaokob.
We’d seen some signs for the cave on the main road and decided to investigate. Ahead of us lay a small limestone hill surrounded by a canal. We discovered that to rent an eight-seater boat was only 200 Baht, less than RM20. So with two guides we paddled off into the gloom, or should I say they paddled whilst we relaxed to enjoy the ride.
The cave was lit by electric lights. The darkness dispelled, we beheld how impressive the chambers, some packed with stalagmite formations, were.
The most notable were the long straws, as you rarely find these in Malaysian caves. At various sections we got out of the boat to walk around the chambers, and that was how we found ourselves squelching through the sticky mud.
Having seen some reasonably large chambers, we headed for a low series of narrow passages. We had to lie almost flat in the boat to avoid banging our heads on the roof. I wouldn’t like to be in this section during the rainy season as the cave would obviously flood to the roof. The whole trip lasted an hour and was a great experience.
After this experience, we were feeling peckish and so headed off to look for lunch. A couple of us were fans of tom yam, so every lunch and dinner we would order a bowl to try out the different tastes. They were all good. Authentic Thai food is so good, and also cheap. We invariably stopped at small roadside eating places, choosing ones well away from tourist areas. Sometimes ordering was a slight problem as my Thai is limited to a few words such as rice, chicken, etc, so the easiest option is just to point or self-serve.
We visited various other caves, mostly multi-level Buddhist temples. I lost count of the number of steps we climbed to reach the upper chambers with their shrines and Buddhas. But the views over the surrounding plains invariably made up for the effort.
One such cave is Tham Khao Pina, discovered by one Ni Pha Ya – a statue of him is in the cave. The remains of an old Dodge car outside commemorates the first car to reach the cave.
Trang is famous for its coffee and the coffeeshops are easily identified by the charcoal-fired aluminium boilers with stubby smokestacks. These shops are usually run by Hokkiens.
Trang province is also known for a particular cake, similar to a sponge cake (their white boxes only have Thai writing so I have never discovered the name of these cakes). But they tasted good.
Apart from food, the province is known for Panan mats, used as bridal gifts in rural Trang, made from pandanus leaves.
One of Trang’s claims to fame is that it often wins the award for “cleanest city in Thailand”. However its main attractions are the beaches, islands, waterfalls and caves.
An odd aspect of the city is the seeming lack of Buddhist temples normally found in Thai towns. The central business district of Trang is inhabited predominantly by Chinese, so there are a few joss houses.
During the seventh to 12th centuries, Trang was an important port for ocean-going sampans sailing to the Straits of Malacca. Today, Trang is an important point of exit for rubber from the province’s many plantations.
We spent a day driving along the coast, stopping at interesting places. One of these was Hat Jao Mai National Park. The park is rich in evergreen, mangrove and beach forests and is a haven for wildlife. Dugongs can sometimes be spotted, as well as sea otters, langurs, pangolins and birds.
As we walked towards some limestone caves on the headland, we were surrounded by macaques. They were eyeing our bags, hoping we had food for them. We didn’t and some monkeys got quite aggressive, trying to intimidate us as they made a grab for our bags.
Lunch was at the main beach resort of Pak Meng. We dined from the stalls selling all kinds of tasty tidbits along the roadside.
The following day, we did a boat trip to Ko Muk. This island is south of Pak Meng and has a high central peak. As we approached, we passed a knob of rock about 10m high on top of which was perched a small bamboo hut. It reminded me of the bobble on a hat. I’m not sure if it was a house or just a fishermen’s shelter.
At Ko Muk, we moored outside Tham Morakhot or Emerald Cave. The only way into the cave was to swim, and as I headed into the ever-increasing gloom I could hear a strange noise like a groan . . . It was really eerie and I was a bit perturbed as the noise grew louder and the cave got darker; my imagination conjured up all kinds of ghostly beings. My companions were all walking behind me so I had no one to seek solace from.
The cave tunnel did a dogleg turn, and as I came round the bend, I realised with great relief that the noise was actually caused by water slapping against the rock, the sound being distorted in the enclosed space. Around the bend, I could see daylight from the entrance ahead and quickly swam towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
I emerged onto a sandy beach. It was beautiful. A small beach and patch of trees encircled by towering limestone cliffs. There was no way out except through the cave, or over the sheer cliffs, negotiable only by monkeys.
There are some scenic waterfalls in the Trang area but we did not have a chance to visit them as we were occupied with visiting caves. We headed back towards Satun and the border. The whole stretch of coastline has limestone islands, which go right down to Langkawi, being part of the same geological chain.
The attractiveness of Trang province – apart from its natural beauty – is that it is less touristy than many other parts of Thailand.
It is very easy to travel around by car, and find good and cheap accommodation and food. And tourist attractions are generally signposted on the roadside, so quite often we’d see a sign to some attraction and investigate.
The only drawback was that we were only there for a long weekend and didn’t really have enough time to do it justice. I will be back!
Saturday, March 22, 2003
Treasures of Trang
By Liz Price
The gooey mud was sucking at my shoes in a determined attempt to drag them from my feet. I tried another couple of steps but it was a real battle against the tenacious hold of the mud.
I could see the sandal straps straining and likely to part company from the sole. The only option was to remove my footwear and continue barefoot. For the first couple of steps, it was an odd sensation as cold, clammy mud oozed between my toes and slid over my foot as I squelched forward. But I soon got used to the feeling and realised I had a better grip in the mud, though I needed to be careful not to stub my toes on stones and rocks. And to think I was paying for the pleasure of this!
The setting – a show cave in Trang province, Thailand. My friends and I had driven from KL to southern Thailand for a long weekend of adventure, both caving and culinary. That was how we found ourselves in the mud at Tham Lae, also known as Tham Khaokob.
We’d seen some signs for the cave on the main road and decided to investigate. Ahead of us lay a small limestone hill surrounded by a canal. We discovered that to rent an eight-seater boat was only 200 Baht, less than RM20. So with two guides we paddled off into the gloom, or should I say they paddled whilst we relaxed to enjoy the ride.
The cave was lit by electric lights. The darkness dispelled, we beheld how impressive the chambers, some packed with stalagmite formations, were.
The most notable were the long straws, as you rarely find these in Malaysian caves. At various sections we got out of the boat to walk around the chambers, and that was how we found ourselves squelching through the sticky mud.
Having seen some reasonably large chambers, we headed for a low series of narrow passages. We had to lie almost flat in the boat to avoid banging our heads on the roof. I wouldn’t like to be in this section during the rainy season as the cave would obviously flood to the roof. The whole trip lasted an hour and was a great experience.
After this experience, we were feeling peckish and so headed off to look for lunch. A couple of us were fans of tom yam, so every lunch and dinner we would order a bowl to try out the different tastes. They were all good. Authentic Thai food is so good, and also cheap. We invariably stopped at small roadside eating places, choosing ones well away from tourist areas. Sometimes ordering was a slight problem as my Thai is limited to a few words such as rice, chicken, etc, so the easiest option is just to point or self-serve.
We visited various other caves, mostly multi-level Buddhist temples. I lost count of the number of steps we climbed to reach the upper chambers with their shrines and Buddhas. But the views over the surrounding plains invariably made up for the effort.
One such cave is Tham Khao Pina, discovered by one Ni Pha Ya – a statue of him is in the cave. The remains of an old Dodge car outside commemorates the first car to reach the cave.
Trang is famous for its coffee and the coffeeshops are easily identified by the charcoal-fired aluminium boilers with stubby smokestacks. These shops are usually run by Hokkiens.
Trang province is also known for a particular cake, similar to a sponge cake (their white boxes only have Thai writing so I have never discovered the name of these cakes). But they tasted good.
Apart from food, the province is known for Panan mats, used as bridal gifts in rural Trang, made from pandanus leaves.
One of Trang’s claims to fame is that it often wins the award for “cleanest city in Thailand”. However its main attractions are the beaches, islands, waterfalls and caves.
An odd aspect of the city is the seeming lack of Buddhist temples normally found in Thai towns. The central business district of Trang is inhabited predominantly by Chinese, so there are a few joss houses.
During the seventh to 12th centuries, Trang was an important port for ocean-going sampans sailing to the Straits of Malacca. Today, Trang is an important point of exit for rubber from the province’s many plantations.
We spent a day driving along the coast, stopping at interesting places. One of these was Hat Jao Mai National Park. The park is rich in evergreen, mangrove and beach forests and is a haven for wildlife. Dugongs can sometimes be spotted, as well as sea otters, langurs, pangolins and birds.
As we walked towards some limestone caves on the headland, we were surrounded by macaques. They were eyeing our bags, hoping we had food for them. We didn’t and some monkeys got quite aggressive, trying to intimidate us as they made a grab for our bags.
Lunch was at the main beach resort of Pak Meng. We dined from the stalls selling all kinds of tasty tidbits along the roadside.
The following day, we did a boat trip to Ko Muk. This island is south of Pak Meng and has a high central peak. As we approached, we passed a knob of rock about 10m high on top of which was perched a small bamboo hut. It reminded me of the bobble on a hat. I’m not sure if it was a house or just a fishermen’s shelter.
At Ko Muk, we moored outside Tham Morakhot or Emerald Cave. The only way into the cave was to swim, and as I headed into the ever-increasing gloom I could hear a strange noise like a groan . . . It was really eerie and I was a bit perturbed as the noise grew louder and the cave got darker; my imagination conjured up all kinds of ghostly beings. My companions were all walking behind me so I had no one to seek solace from.
The cave tunnel did a dogleg turn, and as I came round the bend, I realised with great relief that the noise was actually caused by water slapping against the rock, the sound being distorted in the enclosed space. Around the bend, I could see daylight from the entrance ahead and quickly swam towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
I emerged onto a sandy beach. It was beautiful. A small beach and patch of trees encircled by towering limestone cliffs. There was no way out except through the cave, or over the sheer cliffs, negotiable only by monkeys.
There are some scenic waterfalls in the Trang area but we did not have a chance to visit them as we were occupied with visiting caves. We headed back towards Satun and the border. The whole stretch of coastline has limestone islands, which go right down to Langkawi, being part of the same geological chain.
The attractiveness of Trang province – apart from its natural beauty – is that it is less touristy than many other parts of Thailand.
It is very easy to travel around by car, and find good and cheap accommodation and food. And tourist attractions are generally signposted on the roadside, so quite often we’d see a sign to some attraction and investigate.
The only drawback was that we were only there for a long weekend and didn’t really have enough time to do it justice. I will be back!
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