Encapsulating the Light of Nature: 3D2N Endau

Encapsulating the Light of Nature: 3D2N Endau-­‐Rompin Photo-­‐trip with Malaysian Nature Society Photogroup © Cover illustration by Eunice Wong. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
The lacklustre lecture for my beginning teacher’s training course turned out to be a serendipitous
blessing: boredom driven, I scrolled my Twitter feed rather absentmindedly until I stumbled upon a
tweet by Malaysian Nature Society (MNS) promoting a 3D2N photography trip to Endau Rompin,
organised by the Photogroup. The date 20th-22nd June was perfect and I had just recently started my
journey in Digital Photography three months ago, filled with vigour and willing to test the limit of
my gears and skills. What followed was a
flurry of membership registration, trip
“... spiritual and digital immersion in the
application, packing of essentials and a rush
back to Malaysia to partake in this spiritual
bests offered by Mother Nature.”
and digital immersion in the bests offered by Mother Nature.
The convoy – consisting of 4WD rented from the Park authority and an array of other sedan vehicles
- arrived in Lubuk Tapah around 2pm in the afternoon. After taking into account of delay and lunch
time, the group decided to only brave the most accessible waterfalls before sunset – Takah Selow 1
(Figure 1). I noted that the trail was rather short and it took only about 20 minutes to reach Takah
Selow 1, unbeknownst that this short trail will soon be the hallmark of familiarity for the next
coming few days. The trail also offers
an impressive view of a small section of
Sungai Selai at one juncture of a minicliff. Naïve and new to the challenges of
a rain-forest photography, I had a 70300mm zoom lens attached to my
camera in the false hope of catching
glimpses of some exotic rainforest
avian.; I could not capture the
magnificence of the scene as that focal
length was too tight for scenery work.
Upon arrival at Takah Selow 1, I
quickly swapped to my widest lens
available – Canon EF 35mm IS USM –
in an attempt to capture the Figure 2. Brian Koh in a meditative
Figure 1. Takah Selow 1 The
waterfall nearest to the basecamp,
mesmerising cascade of water. The rest, Canon EOS 60D, 35mm,
ISO100, f16, 6 Seconds
Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO100,
56mm equivalent (relative to a 35mm
f22, 15 Seconds
full frame sensor) was barely sufficient
for me to include the small water fall within the frame, and that was
after I manoeuvred extensively along the far end of the scene. The lullaby of falling stream was too
irresistible to some of the group member and prompted at least one to become one with nature
(Figure 2).
I was finally baptised by the first leech bite on the return trip from
Takah Selow 1 – Mr. Ong noticed and reminded me of my profusely
bleeding wound. The wound being painless, I shrugged it off and
lingered around Sungai Selai to capture the hypnotic flow of the
stream (Figure 3). The evening beside Sungai Selai, as the picture
suggest, was heavenly peaceful: golden sunlight scintillate off the
many hues of green leaves; the river drummed and hummed an evershifting melody against the multi-faceted rock formation.
Photographers exchanged tips, chatted with one another and drank in
the beauty of the golden hour.
“Photographers exchanged tips, chatted with one
another and drank in the beauty of the golden
hour.”
Figure 3. The milky Sungai Selai.
Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO400,
f11, 30 Seconds, B+W 10 ND filter
The main activity of the night was a presentation by the Park Ranger and management team on the
features of Endau-Rompin National Park and its Biodiversity. I was thoroughly impressed by the
variety of exotic creatures that still roam the park: Malayan Weasel, Great Argus, Yellow-throated
Marten, to name a few. Nonetheless, the feeling of utter defeat also consumed me as I learned that
there is no green corridor whatsoever connecting Endau-Rompin National Park with Taman Negara
and that there is an estimate of only 12 tigers left in Endau-Rompin. This was compounded by the
news that Thai illegal Gaharu wood harvesters were also
trespassing at their whim despite the cooperation between our park
rangers and military effort. I believe that we, the citizens of
Malaysia, have the duty and mandate to champion the protection of
the natural treasure troves of the Malayan rain forest. Perhaps a
foreshadow, I sensed a certain calling beckoning me and only time
will tell if I will one day be deep in the fray of conservatory efforts.
Later that night, I pursued some astrophotography around the
basecamp area after the slightly gloomy ending of the talk. The
threat against the pristine equilibrium of nature was ominously
present even here: light pollution was appalling around Lubuk
Tapah campsite, with spotlights operating 24/7 around the camp
area and the telecommunication tower lighted up to the highheavens for no reason whatsoever. I regretted for not informing the
Park authority on the site about this problem and will consider to eFigure 4. A slice of heaven. Canon
EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO3200, f2, 25
mail or call them regarding this issue. Eventually, with the help of
Seconds.
Daniel and Robert, I managed to find a spot with the minimal amount
of artificial lightings and took a photo of a narrow piece of the night
sky (figure 4). Given the narrow field of view, I noted that I will definitely need a wider lens in
future. Nevertheless, there is just this incessant draw of the cosmos and heavenly bodies on human
imagination that defies explanation; photographers are always, at some point of our life, enraptured
with the desire to photograph the starlight and I am no exception. Weary and cognizant of
tomorrow’s challenging hike on the morrow, we retreated to our bed for a good night rest.
*************
The sound of Plaintive Cuckoo reverberated through the forest before the first light and the
inhabitants of Lubuk Tapah campsite began to
stir from their slumber. Perhaps due to the
recent dry spell, this side of Endau-Rompin
seemed curiously devoid of any mosquitoes
(not a complaint!). Without any trouble from
this miniature vampire, the cool forest air
perfected the night’s sleep and I was loath to
leave the warmth of my bunk bed and sleeping
bag. While I attempted some sunrise
photography before dawn, no dramatic
sunrays or clouds was insight as the east side
of the camp is completely barriered by a little Figure 5. Antheraea diehli , Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO800, f4,
1/50 Second.
peak. Instead, the visit to the light trap was
more fruitful given the presence of numerous
insects crowded there. Most prominent was a moth from the Saturniidae family, Antheraea diehli
1
that is about 15cm from wingtip to wingtip (figure 5.). It was perfectly still and ignored all of my
photographic approaches. My “sister” Eunice was delighted to discover that the white spots on the
eyespots are actually translucent membrane some close examination. The moth was probably
indignant but chose to remain indifferently still. Another little friend we chanced upon was a
Siamese rhinoceros beetle who hissed rather loudly as I was trying to pick it up with a branch (Figure
6). On retrospect, this guy was probably more fortunate than its other brethrens as we would discover
later…
Figure 6. Siamese Rhinoceros beetle (Xylotrupes gideon) ,
Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO800, f4, 1/40 Second.
As we visited the telecommunication tower, we
were horror-struck by one gruesome scene:
beetle corpses, about 30 to 40 of them, scattered
beneath the highlight lighting up the tower
uselessly during the night. I am no entomologist
but I really suspect that the beetles were drawn
to their death by the unbelievably bright light
source in the middle of the forest, perhaps due to
collision with the highlight glass or the
telecommunication itself. I do not believe that
the aesthetic lighting up of the tower is worth the
hundreds or, sooner or later, thousands of beetle
lives.
The conquest of Takah Pandan and Takah
Berangin commenced after the breakfast as we
marches on beyond the trail preceding Talak
Selow 1. The challenge of the hike dawned on
us as near-vertical slopes began to make their
presence. It was after roughly an hour worth of
hike that we finally reached Takah Pandan
where
everyone
slumped to regain
Figure 7. Resting beside Takah Pandan, Canon EOS 60D,
35mm, ISO500, f4.5, 1/60 Second.
some breath (Figure
7). The height of
Takah Pandan is astonishing and no matter how I reposition myself, it
was impossible for me to get far away to frame the entire waterfall due to
my normal focal length (56mm equivalent). The best I can do was to
showcase the scale of the bottom-half portion of the waterfall in relation
to none other than Daniel, our waterfall “jumper”, who was quite bent on
jumping into every single waterfall pond headlong upon his arrival
(Figure 8).
I wanted to be one-step ahead, literally, of any waterfall “jumpers” at the
next stop and I volunteered to take the vanguard for the trail towards
Takah Berangin. As I laboured up the slopes, breathing as if I am in a
Figure 8. Daniel (hanging on to the
10km cross country run, I marvelled at the fitness of the hiking guide mighty branch) and Takah Pandan,
whose every step seemed feathered and effortless. Being at the vanguard Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO100,
was not without its perk, f14, 1 Second
however: Mr Chew, a
park ranger, and I double-backed in search of Dr.
Adam Vince trailing us a minute ago and, as we
return to the trail, I spied a red flash that turned out
to be a Malay Red Harlequin butterfly2 (Paralaxita
damajanti, Figure 9). It was a challenge to attempt
to capture this jewel of brilliant sapphire, ruby and
onyx in the extremely dark forest undergrowth – a
task made no easier by its tendency to pause for
only a few second before hopping to an adjacent
leaf. This bejewelled butterfly is not threatened
Figure 9. Malay Red Harlequin (Paralaxita damajanti),
Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO1000, f2.8, 1/40 Second, flash according to the IUCN red list but endemic to
fired
southeast asia lowland rainforests3 and the
fluorescent markings are proposed to be especially
visible to the UV light-sensitive species in dark, low-light conditions. Although the image is not very
clear due to high ISO, cropping and some handshakes, the flash did an amazing job in bringing out
the breath-taking colours of the Harlequin’s wings.
Without any other distraction more interesting than piles of elephant
dung, the vanguard marched on to arrive at the wind swept ground of
Takah Berangin an hour later from Takah Pandan. The wondrous wind
streamed continuously through the valley and the waterfall, planting its
cooling kiss laced with water vapours on any visitors. After having a
shot to my liking (Figure 10.), I decided to be a “jumper” myself and
dived into the chilling and pristine pond. Armed with goggles, I
snorkelled a little at the deeper end of the pool and discovered that the
water was rich with sizeable fresh water fishes. They looked tasty to
me, but hey, take nothing but photographs from the rain forest! In my
Figure 10. The beauty of Takah
Berangin, Canon EOS 60D, 35mm,
ISO100, f22, 2.5 Seconds
“The wondrous wind streamed continuously through the
valley and the waterfall, planting its cooling kiss laced
with water vapours on any visitors”
most humble opinion, I believe that Takah Berangin is by far the most
beautiful among the waterfalls of Endau Rompin National Park; lush forest fringed the fall, lively
mosses carpeted plenty of the exposed surfaces of rocks and the noon sun showered the spot with
intermittent rays of light, revealing the emerald pool of Takah Berangin.
We were forced to return to basecamp using the same route due to the closing of alternative route in
the event of rock slides damages. The returning track was not as dreadful as I had imagined for one
simple reason: Brian, Eunice, Daniel and I went all out and decided to
hop into any passing waterfall ponds along the way (Figure 11 – 12).
Although that slowed us down tremendously, the “pond-hopping” was
insanely fun. Fatigue did not accumulate as the strategically located
waterfalls along the
way continuously
purged it from our
bodies
as
we
embraced
the
refreshing
water.
We were eventually
prevented
from
entering the last
waterfall,
Takah
Figure 11. Daniel, the Lord of
Selow 1 (again!) as
Waterfalls. Canon EOS 60D,
the irked guide Figure 12. Brian and Daniel at Takah Selow 3, Canon EOS
35mm, ISO500, f5.6, 1/30 Second
60D, 35mm, ISO100, f3.2, 1/50 Second
whistled for us to
push camp-ward.
The evening sky faded, the twilight dimmed and the nocturnal critters took over the forest with their
high pitched orchestra. My initial thought about continuing my foray into astrophotography through
the night was quickly replaced by the announcement of a nightwalk following the dinner. By 9pm
night, I found myself in the confinement of a pitch
black arboretum, torchlight turning hither and tither
for any sign of unusual silhouettes. When we offed
the torchlight for even briefest of moments, we
behold nature’s many secret light sources: unnamed
fungi lighting the forest floor with a ghostly
fluorescence while faint lights of fireflies flickering
within the forest - a testimony to the reasonable
purity of the environment. The guide seemed to be
blessed by some inhuman night vision as,
throughout the night, he managed to spot insects
Figure 13. One of the frogs uncovered in the night, Canon
and frogs (Figure 13) otherwise hiding perfectly in
EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO3200, f2, 1/1600 Second
the darkness. Of primary interest is the trilobite
4
beetle, possibly Duliticola hoiseni (Figure 14), so named due to its uncanny resemblance to the
prehistoric trilobites that dominated the Cambrian ocean. Postulated as a detritus feeder feeding on
the microorganism, fungi and slime-mould found in
decaying plant materials, it is possibly endemic to the
pristine forest of Malaya peninsula4. According to the
park ranger, this exotic beetle even attracted Taiwanese
nature enthusiasts all the way to Malaysia just for the
opportunity to encounter and photograph it.
Although the night-walk ended rather early around
10:15pm, I was spent and could not find the energy for
more photography sessions. I hit the bunk bed after
some chatting at the canteen and was fast asleep
instantaneously.
Figure 14. The Trilobite Beetle (Duliticola hoiseni), Canon
EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO1000, f2.8, 1/60 Second, flash fired
*************
I had an 8 hour sleep before waking up – a rare luxury during any form of outdoor experience, at
least when compared to the time when I was in secondary school. Conscious about the unimpressive
sunrise and the reduced novelty of light trap, the morning was rather uneventful and I consumed my
breakfast leisurely, anticipating the hike to Takah Tinggi.
I was scarcely disappointed.
Shortly after we deviated from the path towards Takah Selow 1, we encountered a rather dilapidated
hanging bridge that span atop a small stream (Figure
15). It was a welcoming, although shaky, change from
the continuous ascent and descent so typical of
mountainous rainforests. If my opinion has any impact,
though, I would strongly recommend the National Park
authority to maintain the integrity of this trekking
highlight.
Soon, we realised that we were trekking parallel to
Sungai Selai, seemingly in the search for the source of
Figure 15. Dr Adam Vince braving the hanging
the mighty river. The dry season was quite wonderful
bridge, Canon EOS 60D, 35mm, ISO1000, f3.2, 1/100 for the timing of the trip because 1) there was very
Second
minimal amount of leeches (only 4 attacked me in the
entire trip), 2) mosquitoes were pretty much non-existent and 3) the river was rather shallow and
revealed a large amount of bed rocks, thus bestowing the landscape with a rough, untamed charisma
(Figure 16). It reminded me keenly of the River
Anduin in the J. R. R. Tolkein’s Middle Earth epic
where the Fellowship of the Ring were ambushed at
the river bank. Granted, the river is not half as majestic
or grand but one has to exercise their Imagination time
and again, eh? Another observation after the trip and
some internet search: the clarity of the stream and
ponds was also a far cry
(Figure 17) from the
muddy water shown in
internet
photos.
I Figure 16. Orcish ambush? Not checked, but you can
imagine one without much difficulty. Canon EOS 60D,
suspect
that
the 35mm, ISO1000, f11, 1/200 Second
turbidity of the stream
increases during the monsoon due to the larger volume of mud
washed off from the surroundings.
We rested a little beside the small river crossing where I had
photographed the clear water before soldiering onward to our Holy
Grail site: the Takah Tinggi waterfall. As we continued to scale the
river bank, the distant hum evolved slowly into a thunderous roar and
then, lo and behold, the glorious grandeur of Takah Tinggi unfolded
Figure 17. The translucent sheet of before my very eyes. I gaped, gawked, took out my camera, stared
Sungai Selai. Canon EOS 60D,
into the range finder and quietly kept it back into my bag. The size of
35mm, ISO100, f22, 3.2 Seconds
the waterfall was just too overwhelming and my poor 35mm lens is
woefully inadequate for the task of capturing it, not when I was
standing right next to it. Thankfully, plenty of monstrous boulders and ancient, fallen trunks dotted
the fringe of the pond. I hopped bare footed from one end of the scene to the other and finally gained
enough distance to frame a shot of the waterfall (Figure 18) from the furthest possible footing. That
moment, I was rather proud of my 35mm lens; it may not be the widest lens and have only one single
focal length, but it functioned admirably and encapsulated the light of vastly different objects
ranging from tiny Harlequin to majestic waterfalls and even a piece of the universe – as long as I
keep my feet busy and position myself carefully (which was a perk as I explored quite actively every
time I need to frame a scene appropriately).
The overwhelming scale of the waterfall compounded my urge to grab
my goggle and dive into the depths of the pool. However, the guide
warned us explicitly upon arrival that such notion would be most
unwise given the depth of the pool and the lack of safety precautions /
capable personals around the area. Next time perhaps, then, when I
bring along a safety rope for another diving attempt.
It was a cloudy day and it was extremely comfortable to lie on one of
those boulders for a peaceful rest. As I did so, munching my energy bar,
I espied a sizeable object cruising through the sky and quickly shifted
my biological autofocus onto it.
“Hornbill! Hornbill! Did you see that?” The words escaped my throat
without me even realising it.
Figure 18. The Imperial Takah
Tinggi (tinggi indeed). Eunice
Wong at bottom right. Canon EOS
60D, 35mm, ISO100, f22, 0.5
Second
“There are two of them actually,” answered Daniel, “I saw the other
one circling this area just now”.
That moment, I felt that my adventure in Endau-Rompin National Park
was finally completed. Yet deep within me, something new flickered
into life: a flame for nature, for the wilderness, for the pristine rainforests and for the conservation
efforts of Malaysia’s natural heritages. My new lifelong journey with the Malaysian Nature Society
is just about to begin.
Ng Jie Qi 2014 © All rights reserved
References (1) ::The Moths of Borneo:: http://www.mothsofborneo.com/part-­‐3/saturniidae/gallery.php (accessed Jun 28, 2014). (2) Butterflies of Malaysia -­‐ Paralaxita damajanti http://www.learnaboutbutterflies.com/Malaysia%20-­‐
%20Paralaxita%20damajanti.htm (accessed Jun 28, 2014). (3) Discover Life: Point Map of Paralaxita damajanti from Discover Life http://eol.org/data_objects/24001392 (accessed Jun 28, 2014). (4) Reichoff, R. Duliticola hoiseni http://animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu/accounts/Duliticola_hoiseni/ (accessed Jun 28, 2014).