THE STAR
Saturday, April 15, 2000
Off the Beaten Track
Kenyir's impressive caves
By Liz Price
MOST people go to Tasik Kenyir for fishing or maybe boating, but I went there for an adventure of a different kind. Caving. Tasik Kenyir in Ulu Terengganu is the largest man-made lake in South East Asia.
When the area was flooded with water between 1978 and 1985,, most of the hilltops and highlands remained above water level, thus creating about 340 man-made islands. There are more than 14 waterfalls, numerous rapids and rivers. And caves.
Located about 60km from Kuala Terengganu, it covers an area of 369 sq. km or 260,000ha. This makes it Malaysia's largest rock-filled hydroelectric dam. Sharing its border with Kelantan in the west and Pahang in the south, this immense lake also serves as a third gateway to Taman Negara. The hilly regions of Tasik Kenyir contain areas of untouched tropical rainforest estimated to be millions of years old.
There are two caves accessible to visitors at Kenyir, Gua Bewah and Gua Taat. Getting to the caves is fun. They are located at the southern end of the lake, and lie within Taman Negara. Therefore permits have to be bought in order to enter the Park. From Pengkalan Gawi (Gawi jetty), which is the main gateway to Tasik Kenyir, you have a choice of speed boat or slower house boat.
We went out by speed boat, the journey took 70 minutes and it was a fun ride, although those in the front got soaked as water washed over the bows. I could have done with wiper blades on my sunglasses! It was actually quite chilly speeding over the lake, especially as the sun was hiding behind clouds. We returned using the house boat which takes about three hours.
Before the creation of the lake, there were probably several caves accessible and some were of archaeological importance. However when the area was flooded, most of the caves were lost underwater.
Batu Tok Bidan cave in Gunung Bewah was one of those. Prior to its disappearance, archaeologists had discovered Neolithic artefacts such as kitchen utensils, stone adzes and pottery sherds. Molluscs shells with the tips broken off suggests the site was frequently used as a shelter in the prehistoric past. Even a Neolithic burial was found, with broken pottery laid at the foot of the deceased.
The cave was probably adjacent to two well known routes used by the aborigines in prehistoric times through Terengganu to Sungai Tembling. The cave was first dug in 1959 by R.Noone, and later by Malaysian Historical Society in 1976. The Neolithic or New Stone Age era occurred about 10,000 years ago.
Now there are two remaining limestone hills containing the caves. The caves can only be reached by boat. Gua Bewah is the biggest of the known caves, situated in Bukit Bewah. From the floating jetty, a steep flight of steps lead up to the big entrance situated 40m above lake level. The cave is basically one huge chamber. A strong stench of guano was noticeable as we climbed up the steps, indicating a large colony of bats living inside the cave.
As we went in, it took a while for our eyes to adjust to the darkness, and we realised just how huge the chamber is. The roof was high above our heads, and although we could hear the bats, we couldn't see them.
Bats play an important role in the ecosystem, because where there are bats, there will also be other cave fauna. The bats support the whole food chain -- their droppings or guano is fed upon by the smaller fauna such as insects and invertebrates which in turn are food for larger creatures such as small mammals, frogs and toads and even the cave snake.
To the left of the main entrance are various pits in the floor which were dug by the museum department. Unfortunately no mention is made of what archaeological relics were found.
Old sacks of guano bear testimony to the fact that people once entered the cave to harvest guano for use as a fertiliser. Today the sacks make a convenient staircase up the guano covered floor. There used to be electric lighting in the cave, but it no longer works.
The back section of the cave is the most interesting containing an abundance of cave fauna such as crickets, cockroaches and spiders. For many people, it would be a nightmare to see all these "creepy crawlies" but for me, they are an important part of the cave ecology.
There are not many stalagmites or stalactites, so although the cave is not pretty in that sense, it is really impressive due to the huge size of the chamber.
Gua Taat is in the hill opposite Bewah and has two entrances, The main entrance is reached by a wooden step ladder, the steps are obviously underwater when the level of the lake is high. The entrance is quite small and low compared to Bewah.
Again there are a few pits dug in the floor, and these probably fill up with water during monsoon time, when the lake will overflow into the cave. We saw otter pawprints in and around the pits. I guess the animals catch fish which get trapped in here during monsoon time.
A straight tunnel with a flat roof leads to the back section, where it meets a small stream. The passage then swings round to the left, and there are some nice formations, such as a "Lion King" shaped stalagmite and an impressive array of 'sharks' teeth' formations. Light comes in from the second entrance, but to reach it entails a belly crawl through a tight squeeze.
Gua Taat was first dug in 1959. Flaked tools from the Hoabinhian period (14,000-10,000 years ago) were found, as well as pottery and food remains such as molluscs.
There is a second cave further round, Gua Taat 2, but it is basically just a long rock shelter. It is easy to see why stone age man used these caves as temporary refuges -- for shelter and protection, and providing a good view down onto the lower grounds below.
As Taat and Bewah may hold more secrets of the past, further excavations are now being planned by the authorities in its bid to unravel the mysteries and secrets of these caves. Ketengah with the co-operation of the State Museum and other government agencies plans to provide better access to these caves.
Ketengah (Terengganu Tengab Development authority) administers the lake and islands, protects the natural heritage and recognises the value in preserving this area of mountainous tropical rainforest. They are taking steps to provide facilities such as ranger stations, base camps and hiking trails.
Surrounded by a lush tropical jungle, the Kenyir Lake is a popular and ideal retreat for nature lovers, anglers and photographers, as well as cavers. Other activities include swimming, canoeing, boating and jungle trekking.
Due to the cleanliness of the lake, the Kenyir Lake has a wide variety of fresh water fish such as Baung, Toman, Kelisa and Lampam. Accommodation such as houseboats, floating chalets and lakeside resorts are also available to visitors.
My sojorn was made all the more enjoyable thanks for Encik Johari of Ketengah for hosting my visit, and to Yusof of Try Adventure for transport arrangements. Thanks guys.
sign in a cave in Laos
22 August 2008
An adventure in Dark Cave - Star 1998
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.
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.
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
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