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BUSHCRAFT: LURES AND FISHING

Just 3 days back, I had my fifth camping trip to Sungai Lembing, Pahang. The journey was quite adventurous with mount climbing, jungle trekking, swimming in the local river, scouting for bamboos in the heavy brushes to make a fishing rod and… all of a sudden stumbled with a tiger. Yes! The animal scientifically called as Panthera tigris jacksoni. I thought if I was not crazy or hallucinated, it was a real Malaysian tiger focusing on me in the brushes. And the place was a converging area between Sungai Kuantan and Sungai Kenau. Some folks suggested as Kuala Kenau. Or Kenau Valley. The tiger was about 80 inches long (approximate to 230 cm) and had all its eyes focusing at me. So that was me… 3 days back on a camping trip but with primary intention – going for reflective fishing.

I started to love fishing back in the ’80s of which time I was just 9-10 years old bloke in South West of Johore. At that time I had my parent sponsoring my fishing tackle. It was either made of Fisherman or Daiwa brand if I could be able to guess. I used to apply the Perfection Loop back then, where I got it from crazy-fishing-fans. They normally cast their lures at small rivers and ponds. But to the more ambitious me, I used to take pride by travelling with my parent to seashores like Muar and Johor Bahru. Whilst my mother painted the surrounding sceneries on her drawing paper, I would wander here and there fly-fishing. Some passersby of whom ended up either curious onlookers or buyers of my mother’s acrylic mixed oil pastels paintings, would show me some techniques of tying knot. And only 3 knots I did remember. But after 35 years I had really discovered their real names. Bimini Twist, Duncan Knot and Improved Clinch. The normal line of me included the polyvinyl chloride (PVC) with a thickness between 0X-2X. Ambitiously imbedded to catch either a Marlin or Salmon, I fly-fished like a pro. Although there was no catch at all at the end, I learnt a few things about knots.

Lures were other lessons for me in the past. Since there were no worms to be dug in cities or even their waterfronts like Johor Bahru and Muar, I had to use either the flesh of raw sardine or shrimps/prawns. Raw shrimps were very cheap back then at Johor Bahru’s wet market; now replaced by the gigantic building of City Square JB. 1 pound or ‘kai’ of shrimp cost only MYR1.00. Meanwhile, for raw prawns like tiger prawns cost between MYR3.00 and MYR7.00. Whenever I cast my lures into the little transparent blue-black water, I was disturbed by passing jellyfishes or even floating sea algae. The one and only folklore that was frightening about jellyfishes, spread from mouth to mouth, was that you could lose your hand once beaten by this flaccid sea creature. As a result, the so anxious me had assumed that the jellyfish that stirred and disturbed my fishing line would one way or another hurt my precious hands. So many times I missed ‘what-I-thought’ my would-be precious catch. And in the end there was no catch at all. But I learnt a few things about lures.

When city waterfronts could no longer give any chance to me, I retreated to my village. Clarius batrachus or ‘Keli’, Ophicephalus striatus or ‘haruan’ and Mystus nemurus or ‘baung’ were all the fresh water fishes of my villagers’ pride. Elsewhere, my crazy-fishing-fans of whom some were my school mates, often challenged themselves for a catch of one of those fishes. Monsoon seasons were the best spot where the water level of rivers and ponds rose high. Whenever they splurged the muddy water in front of my house and awakened me, I began to get enthralled by their passion to fish the freshwater fishes. So I busied and hurried myself searching lures such as earthworms, house lizards and frogs. But there was one peculiar forbidden matter about my dwelled land. Nevertheless like a curse, whatever life objects were taken from the land must have its own repercussion. Let’s say if I took a few worms in the morning, later in the evening I would encounter centipede or scorpion. Meanwhile, house lizard became rattlesnake and a frog became a venomous spider. Just because my enthralled instinct had been furiously warming up, I did not care anymore about the repercussion or even my mother’s impermissible signals. I quickly ran out and chased after my crazy-fishing-fans. “Yahoo!”, “Hooray!” was all my blurted words. Full of enthusiasm backed by enthralled energy. That particular time, nobody could be a bold hindrance to me. Here, during these years between 1984 and 1986, I really got my big catches. What I could easily recall were 2 fishes from the Mystus nemurus species, 5 fishes from the Ophicephalus striatus species and 1 extraordinary fish from the Clarius batrachus species. So many times again I had shouted “Yahoo!” and “Hooray!” like it was my final catch for my whole life. But it turned out to be a sombre truth when I could be able to spare my time fishing ever again after 25 YEARS!

The revival of my fishing enthusiasm really happened after 25 years at the age of 38 years old. It was the end year of 2011, just after graduation from college. At that time I was searching for a job in Melaka in an attempt to escape the wild, abusive and double standard Kuala Lumpur. The Melaka waterfront was my choice for fishing.  3 spots of the waterfront were located at Ujong Pasir, Pulau Melaka and the one right behind Holiday Inn, Melaka. And the most memorable moments there included taking pro-photos of Mahkota Hotel, Melaka, sneaking into Holiday Inn for a job, drenched by heavy midnight rain while fishing and sleeping like a log on a rotten bench that was close enough to the sea. But something was amiss. I had no parent and home to go back. But what can I say except carrying on living this life.

My lures were much upgraded since. I would include steel lures, chicken’s intestines, fishes and shrimps. My fishing tackle included miscellaneous hooks, 2-3 types of line, sinkers, floats, aerial-type rod, branded reels like Daiwa and Shimano, nets and gaffs. Even though still recreational fishing but the upgrade of the kits made me proud and confident. My catches included crabs, sea prawns and normal sea fishes. Those fishes included Hampala Barb, Sea Goldie, Ark-Eye Hawkfish, Caranx spp. Or ‘Selar’, Perciformes Scombridae or ‘Kembung’. Some could be caught at the seashore whilst others onboard to the open Straits of Malacca.

Though bushcraft is somewhat related to camping, my newest approach to primitive fishing with only fishing line and hooks had some kind of relevance. And the use of earthworms as baits had me retrograded to the past. Only that for the new moments, I was not fishing at waterfronts but rivers in the deep jungle. Not ponds like my old childhood years but leftover mines that have plenty of resources. The technique of casting lures had to be varied because of unexpected obstacles like disturbance from jungle creatures. And one of the jungle creatures I had seen lately was the Panthera tigris jacksoni. Or the Malaysian wild tiger. Albeit of its ferociousness as a man-eater, its beauty was truly amazing. If not amazing to the general public, at least it was to me.

Concluding this writing, years that passed will bring more experiences to one’s hobby or simply one’s liking. Even if the benefits are not actually in a monetary form however there still satisfaction in it. And maybe who knows, if you cannot get a fish, like me, you might end up confronting….. A tiger.

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Evening In Tears

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Bush Craft: My Own Way in Defining the Meaning of Survival

Bukit Pelindung. Or Pelindung Hill, maybe something unheard of for many townsmen or even townswomen. But to addicts of touring or wanderlusts, they may know where actually Teluk Chempedak is. Or the Gulf of Chempedak. So such a hill really stood high above the sea level of Teluk Chempedak. And so here I came to escape from the Brute of Life.

Before that I had been crazily downloading videos from Youtube.com, describing as well teaching survival techniques in the jungle or deep forests, until I was so absorbed with Daniel Suelo, the lone survivor who had been travelling with no money for five years and so forth. Many different techniques had been watched and timely absorbed starting from primitive hut’s building, lighting up fires with sticks, fire steel, stones, hand line fishing instead of the ordinary fishing tackles and lures, until to choices of wild animals and plants as staple foods. This overall studies nearly took 18 months to complete beginning early November 2017 when my home-based jobs with the local broadcasting company dwindled.

Many avid travellers especially campers and jungle trekkers, comes from Westerners. Even if they are local Malaysians, they are from successful backgrounds. Successful in the terms of highly educated, rich and prosperous, and if least subjected – free from trouble. But as for me – I am not. I am still clogged, soaked and choked by troubles. Education’s debts, debts burdened upon me by other people’s irresponsibility, rented abodes such as single and shared rooms that are forever haunted by disturbing noises, distrustful stares and nobody-is sincere-like tenants. So I abbreviated them as the Brute of Life.  This is because I have been given no ample choice to avoid or even stop it from happening. I am just like a down-trodden, shackled and the should-be-punished person that is just like forever doomed and gloomed to be helpless. Just that, my inner sense of which has been thoroughly shaped and developed by ‘Think and Grow Rich: Sixth Sense’, abruptly objected. Phrases like, “Should I always be victimized?”, “Must I live in agony, desperateness whilst succumbed by ever doomed loneliness?”, “After plans, A, B, C, D fails should plan E also repeats the same, while realistically ‘E’ means FAIL in school’s exam?”, “What plan should that absurd E stand for?” Later onwards it sparked, “AHAA! Escape to the jungle!” YES! Escape to the jungle.

Even though ‘E’ is best suited to the beginning letter for the word ESCAPE, but there are so many escapes to be called upon. Escape from 9 to 5 work schedule, escape from working stressful part-time jobs, escape from falling in love with women, escape from gathering sins like alcoholism, drug addiction, smoking, LGBT, atheism, escape from paying loads of debt, and many more. Though I should admit that I have committed all these forms of escapism before, still it did not really solve my entire trouble. Which are noises and unwanted disturbances. Finally, I chose to Escape to The Jungle. That shall be precisely practical to my own common sense. 

Daniel Suelo’s ability to live a long life with less or no money really inspired me. He had also said in his documentary film ‘Moneyless in Moab’ that “Possession is an illusion”. Thus if anyone of us keen to grasp and hold on with whatever they possessed, it will lead them to sufferings. “Whilst nature provides anything that we need it at the moment,” he elongated. “And if we accept hardship, pain or even death as part of nature, we can be able to evolve as part of the natural selection.” “Faith is when we live in the moment (of which is now), where we don’t have to worry about tomorrow whilst holding on to the past.” Another stunning aspect that he had included was “The 9 to 5 factor in the working environment is actually the sufferings of the people because they are enslaved to fulfil the rule.”

And I assume myself as a carbon copy of him. Only that I am not ever keen to testify that I am a loser. Nevertheless, I accept failures as values that I have to pay for in order to keep on living and survive. Those failures are my disability to negotiate with people, making more losses than profits in businesses, the failed attempts to stay much longer in any company because ‘I am experienced as not a people person’, throwing away money from savings to underperforming investments as a well-educated investor. Yes! A well-educated investor of Benjamin Graham. The master of the art of COMPOUNDING. The truth is the ‘God-curse-these bullshit corporates-of Malaysia’ ASB, where its dividends and bonuses are seriously declining from 7.5% in 2013 until to 6.5% in 2018. Just that if without that bullshit ASB and Bursa Malaysia, I would already be engulfed by the grief of hunger. Because why? Because there is no more BR1M. Translated as The Aid for the People of One Malaysia. This particularly due to the historically changed government that singles, B40 bachelors and retirees are not at all eligible to receive such beneficial aids anymore. But, they have failed to notice that many bachelors down here on the soil of Malaysia are stuck to death by the ever-changing policies that only enrich the usual cronies and the wealthiest amongst the riches.

Therefore with a rucksack of camping gear, basic and simple, stuffed together with life-essential assortments, I trekked up the mountainous hill. Not actually uphill but downhill too. Up, down, up a little bit, down to take bath in the South China Sea, and up again to build my tent for the overnight stay. It was just like walking through a 20 kilometre off-road. I got lost for almost three hours in the woods for not abiding the rule of following the usual track. The track where trekkers usually hike safe and sound. Diverted downhill, I collided and stumbled with spiky rattan strands and wild palm trees. Scientifically known as Calospatha Becc. Scratches effectually formed and uneasiness to breathe started to take place. I really had to cut the strands as well as other obstacle-featured branches in order to climb downhill. Along the way, I spotted 3 to 4 caves built either from mounted big stones or prehistorically formed due to geographical factor.

Later onwards, one deep-rooted cave had been one of my biggest obstacles. This beautifully underground cave with a tiny passageway passing through it was covered with spiky rattan strands as its roof.  Quite traumatized by the painful sensation of the spikes experienced earlier, it accidentally drove me breathless. I panted for nearly half an hour. My sense was just like swimming. Between dreaming and unconsciousness. I thought this might be my death bed. Thankfully, I was not yet doomed to die. So I withdrew my step backwards and climbed out to about 5 degrees eastward, of which I knew it would be the seashore.

But the breathless’ sensation was recurring as I moved ahead. I thought that something was wrong with my body and I decided to rest on a stone. A boulder of which was quite protruding from the earth as if it was a flat cliff. Then, I started to control this awkward breathless’ sensation with Yoga-type sitting. Closing my eyes, with a deep breath, I cleared my haywire mind. Total calmness could really be achieved after a while later. And it was historical for me to gain control of this awkward breathless’ sensation as one of my personal achievement. Yes! I have cleared my haywire mind. No more fear. No more confusion. No more gloominess. Wow! That was wonderful.

The rest of the three hours lost in the small jungle was spent on getting the exact direction to the seashore. And later in the evening after a successful camping and igniting campfire, I endured another 9 hours of thirst. Hehe! Not enough water to bluntly admit. And the forest’s water source was very scarce. Whatsoever, the conclusion, I have just put to use the skills of Bush Craft. Not just the skills of building fire, erecting a tent, carving woods into cups, spoons and plates, but also the skill of self-control, of which for me was highly demanding my intellectual capacity. In order for me to escape from The Brute of Life.