Lim Thian Beng
RETIRED surveyor Lim Thian Beng often took photos of the land and the surroundings he was mapping in the ulu when he felt homesick – thinking of his mother and missing her.
As soon as he got back to Miri, he would develop the film – 12 shots each time – make prints and send them to mum who was living in Sibu. And on the back of the photos he would write her a message in English.
Lim was one of the first few Sarawakian Chinese surveyors trained in Kuching after the Second World War. His collection of black and white photos is a great legacy to be shared, depicting vividly the lives of surveyors in those days.
Most importantly, the photos also showed the development of Miri. Lim’s wealth of surveying experience and knowledge are an archivist’s dream.
Both amusing and factual, whenever he relates his stories to friends and his family, Lim is at once a historian and entertainer. One could listen to his spellbinding narratives and not feel the passing of time.
The zesty Lim always has many extraordinary life experiences to share.
His real birthday
When was he born? Barely 15 and badly in need of a job, he reported his age as 18 and made his identity card with the birth year 1922. Actually, he was born in 1926.
As a young man from Sibu, he was conscripted by the Japanese to work at the Kuching Airport as a orderly in 1941. His job was to raise a red flag as a signal to an approaching plane not to land due to lack of runway.
A blue flag meant it was safe to land. He got the job because one of the Japanese pilots was a Taiwanese Min Nang man who, like Lim, spoke Hokkien. They became good friends and the Japanese flyer got his Sarawakian friend the job.
One day Lim was in a hurry to buy food at the canteen. While he was away from his post, a plane circled the airport twice. Lim had left the red flag flying because he thought no plane was coming in.
Everyone shouted at him to switch flags. He immediately rushed back to his post and raised the blue flag.
Shortly after, the plane touched down. Luckily, the pilot was his friend and he did not get slapped – which would have happened had the pilot been a Japanese.
His pilot friend told him the fuel needle was already at zero when the plane landed.
Lim standing at the back of his parents (Mr and Mrs Paul Lim).
Fate linked to a reptile
A story related about his father, Paul Lim is a stranger-than-fiction tale.
Paul, a China-born Hokkien man, was educated in English in Singapore, and had worked in Singapore Harbour as a controller of tongkangs.
The story told of how the Lim family came to settle in Sarawak for good. And as fate would have it, Paul decided to take up a job as a latex-tapping inspector with a rubber company in Sarawak.
He was accompanied by two policemen and two coolies while making the rounds of the rubber estates every morning before six. This made him a “very powerful” man.
One day, Paul was upset by the dwindling reports on rubber production. When he questoined the tappers, they told him they had seen a big monster snake coiled around a coconut tree at the rubber estate.
Paul took a huge family parang which could cut a nail in two, and several helpers to kill the snake.
On arriving at the spot, they found snake asleep. When Paul struck the reptile with his parang, the weapon was cracked a little. He made a second strike – the parang was cracked a second time.
As the story goes, the snake suddenly woke up and in a fit of anger, pulled down all the coconut trees in the estate before slithering away.
It was a horrific experience for Paul and his men.
Those who believe in superstitions say this snake was actually going through the process of gaining immortality and should not be disturbed.
The parang which could decapitate a person with one stroke had two cracks. It was a mystery.
That night Paul had a dream which he related to his son the next morning. In the dream, the snake appeared to Paul and told him if it died he would bring him with it. If the snake lived, Paul would also live.
Paul knew the snake had died and soon he fell ill and died two months later. He was only 49.
Seeking fortune in Miri
The younger Lim was educated at St Joseph’s School up to Standard 7 and he remembers his teachers were all nuns.
After refusing to continue working for the Japanese during the occupation, Lim spent some years in Sibu, selling yaw chak kuih, fishing and doing odd jobs.
In fact, before the war ended, he decided to take a tongkang to Miri to seek his fortune – and perhaps get married.
He landed a job as surveyor and was sent for six months training in Kuching. In 1948, he started his career, surveying land in Lawas, Limbang, Niah, Bekenu and Bintulu.
Surveying in the early days was very dangerous. The men had to go deep into the swamps, jungles and the unknown.
They would set up camp using attap and a few pieces of wood. A tent would be a luxury. Lim had to carry a gun to protect himself and his men from wild animals.
“In those days after our surveying, the superintendent would print the GRANT and ask me to sit outside the office to offer the land titles to the people of Sibuti. No one was interested even when the land was free. I was often left with a stack of land titles in my hand at the end of the day,” he recalled.
In the 1950’s, Lambir rubber estates were given to people interested in joining the planting scheme.
“A house was provided and a title given. The rubber estate land also had a title. But back then, not many people wanted to go into rubber planting.
“Only a few adventurous people accepted the offer from the British. As a government servant, I could not hold any title of the land I surveyed – neither could my children,” he said.
And so as a very sincere and honest civil servant, he never owned a piece of land throughout his career.
Lim’s son sitting on one of his motorbikes.
Tying the knot
Lim fell in love with a beautiful young woman in Niah and was not concerned his future mother-in-law was a Kadayan (Lumok binti Prian) from Brunei. His then future father-in-law threatened him with a gun. But he replied he also had a gun!
Lim and his wife were married for 60 years. She died two years ago.
During his surveying expeditions, he shot many wild boars and would ask his team’s cook to deep-fry the meat, salt it and place in it tins. After two months, he would bring these tins back home for his wife and children.
Earning $45 a month – plus $20 travelling allowance – in the 50’s was all the cash he got to feed his growing family. So he had to supplement the family diets with the help of his gun.
Lim said being a surveyor helped him to stay “very healthy.” He and his team moved around on foot all the time. It was quite normal for them to walk from Miri to Sibuti along the beach to carry out their duties.
They would set up camp at Satap (Sibuti) and remain there for three weeks to complete their survey. Then they would walk back to the rivermouth and turn towards Miri, carrying all their equipment.
Riding on a croc
One very anxious period of his life was the Brunei Rebellion which put Bekenu bazaar under the control of the rebels for more than a week. Lim and his team were marooned in Satap.
Once while making his way across a stream at this remote outpost, he thought he had stepped on a huge log in the water. The lumber he was standing on was moving towards the other bank but he did not suspect anything unusual.
His men kept “very quiet” until he had reached the other side. Then he suddenly realised he was actually “riding” on the back of a crocodile to get across the stream.
God must have protected him. It was a miracle the reptile did not turn around and swallow him.
In the 60’s while posted to Bintulu, Lim bought a motorbike and he rode it all the way to work in Bintulu and back to Miri whenever he could.
The road back then was not very well surfaced. If a rider was careless enough to hit a pothole, the bump could send him flying through the air for a hard landing many hundred feet away – and he also could end up dead.
Lim was always very careful on his motorbike.
One of the photos in his album shows his “beloved’ big bikes. Altogether, he bought three.
Lim still remembers who he bought the bikes from and how the machines became old and rusty. He has lasting friendship with the towkays who sold him the bikes. Like his gun, these bikes gave him a lot of joy.
Conducting a survey of Miri town.
The marathon man
Lim used to run marathons in his spare time.
Being a surveyor in the ulu over 35 years has kept healthy and made him really tough. In the course of his work, he frequently had to run over rough terrain and through bushes that cut his legs and arms.
Once while running a marathon in Bintulu, he did not see a member of the Boys Scout standing at one spot along the route to direct the runners to make the turn back to the finishing point.
Instead, Lim ran on without looking. The young scout had to run after him to escort back to the turn-back point. Despite the lapse of concentration, causing him to lose a lot of ground, he still placed fifth.
Today, Lim laughs heartity each time he relates the incident to his grandchildren. He keeps a showcase of marathon and joggerthon trophies in his simple house at Bumiko Garden.
Lim said he actually saw Miri grow from its infancy after the Second World War to what it is today, adding that as a resort city, it has many paths for people to run, some nice parks for people to enjoy.
He agreed with a friend’s suggestion that there should be more footpaths, pathways and parks on the beach for people to walk from Bintulu to Kuala Baram.
Lim (left) receiving a marathon trophy.
Photos in safe hands
Today, he keeps all the black and white photos he sent to his mother. By looking at the writing on the back of the photos, he could recall the times he spent surveying the wilderness.
His daughter Rose said: “My father can remember every piece of land he surveyed in Sibuti or Lawas. He could even remember the land title numbers.
“When people approached him regarding the terrain of the land, he could tell them exactly what it was like. He has such a good memory of the land he surveyed.
“It’s like how some priests remember the Bible verses. He loves sharing the tales behind every photo.”
Lim said life is better when they could enjoy walking, running and taking part in games.
“You young people have all the good ideas. When I was young, life was hard and walking and running were part of our daily exercise.
“I made good friends throughout my career. Now I see my happy children and grandchildren. Altogether, I have seen five generations of my family – from my grandparents to my grandchildren. And now my grandchildren are of marrying age – so I may see one more generation coming up in the next few years,” he enthused.
Hopefully, more families like the Lims will make the effort to organise their family tree and create a wonderful legacy to pass on to their future generations.
Memories of those old letters, photos and keepsakes are certainly worth cherishing. And Lim’s photos and knowledge of all the areas surveyed by the government are also legacies for Miri.
Our community should be proud of having an avid veteran surveyor who has kept valuable photos as historical record of a bygone age.