Above: The Orangutan is yawning.
Above an endless expanse of thick green jungle in south-central Kalimantan floats a lone Brahminy Kite in a carefree motion that conceals its murderous intent. Nearby, in the sun-bleached upper branches of a dead tree sits a lone Storm Stock, rare even in these quarters.
Above: Storm Stork
Below, a brown river lined with thick reeds and the remains of fallen trees cuts through the swampy woodland. Locals have named this stretch of water after “Ali”, a respected ranger, who was taken by a salt-water crocodile, his body never found. A young Englishman was also taken. They found his upper body, but no river was named after him. A twin-decked motor-cruiser made of teak meanders slowly through this scene.
The boat approaches a fork in the river and takes a starboard turn at the “Camp Leakey” ranger station, named after the famous palaeontologist.
Immediately after the turn the water changes from murky to a clear deep red of tannins, because there is no illegal mining upstream in this tributary; these waters emanate from springs at the very heart of the Tanjung Puting National Park.
Before long, two Malaysian False Gharials appear next to boat; one just beneath the surface on a submerged log, the other languishing in the sun with open mouth. False Gharials are critically endangered animals, but relatively abundant in Tanjung Puting. Up to five meters long, they are easily recognised by their long narrow snouts and inch-long needle-sharp teeth for catching fish. Away from the camera, a third False Gharial suddenly breaks the surface with a python in its jaws, having just drowned it below, then, with a swing of its tail, plunges back into the deep at the sound of the engine. A few meters further on, also away from the camera, a snake carves S’s through the dark water as it makes its way to the other side. Nature here is pristine, life abundant.
Above: False Gharial
Kingfishers sit on the lower branches of the trees that extend over the slow-moving river. The most common species is the Stork Billed Kingfisher, which is a large and stunning bird with a golden body, pink feet, blue wings, and an enormous red beak that grow darker with age. Occasionally, a blue flash betrays the presence of a White Throated Kingfisher as it dives from its perch and returns in less than a second with a small fish in its beak.
Above: Stork Billed Kingfisher
A community of Proboscis Monkeys fifty strong forages along the bank and startles the kingfishers into flight. One monkey with only a modest nose prostrates itself suggestively as if to prove the old saying about the size of noses. Langurs, White-Bearded Gibbons, and Long-Tailed Macaques often free-ride on the safety in numbers provided by the Proboscis Monkeys.
Above: Proboscis Monkeys
In a taller tree, further back, sits a creature in no need of protection: a giant male Orangutan. A halo of skin surrounds a visage with narrow-set eyes high above the protruding lower face. The mouth is benign, lipless. His arms and legs are hairy, twice the length of the body at full stretch.
Above: Male Orangutan
Visibly smaller females, some with babies, glide gracefully through the lower branches. One turns to strike a pose. Occasionally their journey sends shivers through the greenery as an Orangutan lets go of one tree to take possession of the next.
Above: Female Orangutan
‘Orang’ means people, ‘Utan’ means forest. People of the forest. A respectful name given to these gentle animals. Sure, there is rivalry between males, but surprisingly little violence; Orangutans use signalling – noises, letting hairs stand on end, and gestures – to prevent unnecessary harm when they compete for territory. Orangutans don’t jump like monkeys do. Their long appendages allow them to reach across the dizzying drops, distances shortened by their efforts to sway the trees, unconsciously relying on the same physics kids use when they inject momentum into swings in the playground.
Above: Young Orangutan
The commotion of the Orangutans dislodges a leaf, which slowly drifts towards the forest floor in a series of little arcs. On the way, it passes a Long-Tailed Parakeet proclaiming its presence from a hole in the trunk of a tree.
Above: Long-tailed Parakeet
The leaf then passes countless flying insects on its way to the ground, including butterflies, flies, bees, bumble bees the size of a man’s fist, and a tiny beautiful red-bodied Dragonfly.
Above: Dragonfly
The leaf settles on the forest floor next to a giant ant. Almost an inch in length, the ant at first looks to be going about its business in a normal way. But then it suddenly U-turns and twists about on the spot. Something is wrong. This ant has been attacked by Ophiocordyceps unilateralis, commonly known as Cordyceps, or the zombie-ant fungus. The life-cycle of the parasite starts with the emission of thousands of tiny spores. Carried by the wind, if just one spore lands on an ant it enters the body and starts to produce chemicals. The chemicals take control of the ant's brain and, in a zombie-like state of living death, the ant obeys instructions to find a leaf at just the right height above the ground and at just the right humidity to suit the parasite. Once the right spot has been found, the ant sinks its mandibles into the leaf in a final death bite, never again to let go. Soon, an Aliens-like protrusion emerges from the head of the ant, growing larger as it feeds on the innards. The life-cycle reaches completion when the protrusion emits a fresh batch of spores. A hollow carcass on the leaf is all that is left of the ant.
Above: Dead zombie ant
Jungles are not for kids! But they may be for you! If you fancy an Orangutan safari try Borneo Eco Tour (www.borneoecotour.com). Great outfit for nature trips around Kalimantan. Demand that Nisa be your guide! She is the cool woman with the orange hat in the picture below!
