Unwinding with free and easy kayaking

I WAS pounding away at the keyboard with my two fingers when a Facebook message popped out: “Hi Benson, I’m planning a kayaking trip for our ex-classmates this coming Saturday morning. It would be nice if you can join us.”

Kayaking? The word plopped over my head and bopped as if to both taunt and tantalise me.

Would I want to risk being guzzled down by the swirling torrential water? No, not me.

I couldn’t remember ever seeing a kayak up close, let alone paddling one. How could a frail old neophyte like me possibly go kayaking? No way, man!

But a moment later, when I felt more composed, it began to dawn on me I might have not fathomed matters in their proper perspective. Then with a clearer head, I began to chew over the gist of the thing — Francis Ho, who sent me that message, is an old friend, a fellow Thomian classmate in the early 70’s.

Surely he meant me no harm? Why? Never had he ever wanted me dead, had he?  Moreover, this old buddy should certainly know what he was talking about, being a kayaking buff himself.

Besides, if this former architect had the savvy and the courage to turn his past-time passion into a viable self-financing business, how could I doubt his credential? He is even the one who pioneered the kayaking business in Sarawak.

Thus, I had to believe he already knew the A to Z of this water sport, plus all the potential dangers, and so his asking me to go kayaking with him made me feel confident of the intent of his invitation.

I was born a kampung kid. I spent years of my childhood frolicking in a village wilderness. Thus, rivers, boats, swimming and diving were part of my life. With such experience, what else did I have to fear? This was a confidence-booster for me.

Feeling emboldened albeit still a little wobbly, I replied Francis’ message: “Will let you know by Friday.”

Thinking back, I now realise the reply was a bit too curt and cold for a friend who had been so gracious to care to invite me to have a happy time. Yet I had the temerity to raise my stack to such snooty height.

Okay, here is an honest confession — if he cannot  forgive me for that, I will not blame him.

My initial reluctance was actually more of a knee-jerk response to the idea of kayaking. I was somewhat already mentally proselytised by what I saw on National Geographic — so much so that when kayaking was mentioned, my mind would automatically conjure up an image of a boat paddler fighting with a roving river of fierce water.

Moreover, I had seen a documentary in which a kayaker disappeared into a violent storm of water, never to emerge again — presumably drowned.

So when Francis bade me to kayak, such an image could have triggered the butterflies in my tummy.

But now I can tell you the kayaking that I was to experience was not at all like what I imagined. Far from it.

All set for adventure

Six of us old Thomians met at a café near One TJ complex at Stutong. The group included Dr Philip Bong, school headmaster Anthony Bong, insurance boss Freddy Loh, koi fish connoisseur Eng Soon, accompanied by his wife and a grown-up son, and myself. Of course, organiser Francis had to show up.  We were scheduled to start our journey at 8am. All of us were kayaking newbies.

It was a beautiful morning and chirp-a-chirp-a-chirp  — the songs of a few birds hopping around a tree — were a cheery sign of a good day ahead. After breakfast, we clambered onto a 14-seater van owned and driven by Francis.

It took barely an hour to reach Kampung Bengoh – the starting point of our adventure.

The stretch of meandering river which we would cover is an upper tributary of Sungai Sarawak Kiri, a few km downstream of the yet-to-be-operational Bengoh Dam.

As what a stewardess would do in an aircraft, Francis dutifully gave us a crash course on the basics of kayaking before we hit the water.

More precisely, it was just a briefing with some demonstrations on how to hold the paddles and execute the strokes, including what to do should some odd things happen.

Confusing and baffling

The instruction on steering a kayak could be quite confusing to a novice because it said if you wanted to go right you must paddle left and vice versa.

Also a bit baffling was the suggestion that you got to paddle with your body instead of with your hands. I did not have much problem grasping the idea because I had rowed boats before. I also understood how the motion of paddling would involve strength from the various parts of the body.

The topic on what Francis called “the centre of gravity” was somewhat technical but since we all had studied some physics in school, no one seemed unduly perplexed.

The trick is to always try to keep your shoulders level when your body gyrates to balance itself. That, of course, is easier said than done.

Nevertheless, our body seems to have that uncanny ability to play out the game artfully when confronted by the antics of gravity, momentum and inertia.

All it takes is a little practice for the body’s built-in mechanism to become proficient at any given task. That’s why you can only learn how to cycle by actually getting on a bike — not by reading about it.

Briefing done and life jackets strapped, five colourful plastic canoes were carried down onto the sandy river bank.

Francis’ salaried assistants Beko and Simon helped out with whatever tasks they were asked to do.

Only Beko would paddle with us. This petite and energetic middle-aged Bidayuh spoke fluent English, and is knowledgeable about the river because he had swum and fished there as a kid.

Group of nine

Our group came up to nine altogether — two would be in each kayak while the odd one person Anthony would take a smaller single-seater.

The kayaks, as I first discovered, were surprisingly light and I thought a strong person could easily hoist one up by himself.

Being so floaty and unsteady, the kayaks challenged and tested our skills in getting into them. But we all managed without becoming water comedians.

We sloshed off into the stream. As expected, the maiden launch was executed with some awkward bungling, especially when the paddles first hit the water but soon we got the hang of things and the next thing we knew, we were kayaking away as though we had done it for years.

“If this is what kayaking is about, then everyone can kayak — but not everyone can fly,” I told myself.

It was so easy and such a fun sport that you wonder why not everyone is kayaking.

To me, the activity had become something really free and easy and I was soon lulled into a transcendent state of relaxation while drifting downriver in clear cool water. We could see the stony riverbed most of the way — a comforting sight to us.

Of course, we still had to stay alert to steer clear of treacherous spots. Such hazards usually showed up in blotches of rippling or gurgling water. They were actually the telltale signs of shallow tracts or rocks below the surface, and you will not want to lunge into them and risk being flung sideways and overturned.

Triumphant achievement

Occasionally, our kayaks went through constricted bends where water would flow faster in the form of rapids. Those segments, though rather intimidating, did give us moments of thrill and excitement, and when we found we could sail through the rapids without our kayaks being swept sideways or capsized, our chests swelled with pride — a triumphant achievement to greenhorns like us.

When my partner Freddy and I were lazy to row, we just rested our paddles across the kayak and let the soft current carry us down the river. That gave us all the space and time to soak up the scenic view.

The scenery around us was, to say the least, breathtaking. Every now and then along the banks, we came across majestic gigantic trees with twirling and hanging vines.

Some trees looked so old and quaint that they could be revered as fossils. I saw tree branches grotesquely convoluted into the weirdest of twines and twirls and they looked so ethereal.

And then there were also the stones and rock walls strewn along the banks that told us they were there before anything and anyone else ever was.

This was evinced by what was left of them after being gradually sculptured by the eroding effect of moving water for thousands or even millions of years. I never had enough of gazing at those pristine artworks along the banks.

Visiting a waterfall

At one point, we rowed into a creek to see a small waterfall. It was refreshing to cool ourselves under the gushing water. Besides, the excursion gave us the break to stretch our numbed backs and legs.

We spent about 20 minutes at the waterfall, then set off again on what was to become a kayaking-cum-sight-seeing outing.

Those of us who brought along cameras were spoiled for choice. The backdrop of bluish mountains in the distance, the seductive tranquil river, the sparkling crystal-clear water, the great diversity of lush vegetation and the crisp invigorating air all conspired to cut a dreamlike panoramic view.

Add the melodious sounds of birds and cicadas or even, at certain rare moments, the sound of silence, and you wished the dream would go on without end.

Time passed quickly and before we knew it, noon had arrived. That was when we had to stop at Kampung Danu for lunch — packed nasi lemak, kolo mee, curry puffs, sandwiches and watermelons as deserts.

We finished our food in a jiffy. Two hours or so of maneouvering the kayaks did get us pretty hungry and weary.

After lunch, we took a short tour on foot around the Bidayuh village before starting the second half of the journey.

At one place, we came across a group young and old villagers happily bathing and frolicking in the river. They greeted us gleefully.

At last, we reached the river point where Kampung Semadang is situated, marking the end of our kayaking adventure.

It was kind of melancholic having to end there but every good thing must come to an end. The time was only around three in the afternoon, so we could take our sweet time peeling off our drenched clothes and changing into dry ones, then had a refreshment snack before heading home.

So, now you know — less than an hour’s drive from the clamorous Cat City is a place where you can go for a really enjoyable and memorable sedentary kind of kayaking — an ideal recreational respite for city folks to get away for a while from the concrete jungle of the city.

I always believe there is that raw instinct in every human that always yearns to go back to the wild.

After all, the wild was where we lived before we built towns and cities. And that may explain why, sometimes, when we get close to Nature, we feel like coming home.