Kincin River

June 2009

Deep in the bowels of the Rompin forest in Pahang lies a tract of pristine jungle. This land is like no other in the Malaysian peninsula, for it lies on a separate plate, and thus many of its flora and fauna are unique to the place.

They call it the Endau-Rompin Park. It straddles the states of Johor and Pahang. For several years, it was my second home. I have lost count, the number off fishing trips I have made to its rivers. And what beautiful streams! They are spellbinding, with awesome rapids stretching as far as the eye can see, with wondrous rock formations gracing the banks. At the more gentle stretches, you can find pools so deep, the water seems to be at a standstill.

The Kemapan, Kincin and Endau...these are the rivers of dreams for the Malaysian angler. Not many dare pit their muscles and wits with these challenging waterways. To get to the upstream stretches, you have to push your boats up the steep rapids and even waterfalls, and paddle over those black pools. And you may have to do this for days before reach your destination.

The Kemapan is especially challenging. You trek for hours, crossing numerous gulleys made by trickling streams, scrambling over countless fallen trees and climbing seemingly endless hills, stooping under your 20-kg rucksacks. You go beyond tiredness and pain, not daring to stop for the marauding leeches homing in on your heated torsos.

But the vista of the absolutely clear Kemapan cascading over unblemished rocks makes it all worth it. If you can make it.

But this story is not about the Kemapan. Well, not yet: I'll write about it later!

Let me tell you about the Kincin first. It's a relatively gentler river, and much more accessible too...

You drive from KL to the seaside town of Rompin. From there, you head inland through the oil palm estates of Selendang until you enter the Endau-Rompin park. Finally, you will reach the Park headquarters (Pahang side) by the Kincin river.

The Park is fairly well appointed, It has several chalets and a restaurant for visitors. Most locals go there on weekends, bathing in the river and having picnics on the banks. But our KAGUM Gang has other plans. We unload our Old Town scanoes and motor upstream, well-away from the crowds. Several miles up the river, we select a suitably breezy sandy beach and set up camp.

The water is clear but dark, stained by the dead leaves deposited by the overhanging pelawan trees. A bout of rain will make it murky, but the river will clear up after a couple of days.

We had traversed several low rapids, hauling the boat up using long ropes. Wading the rocky waters is very challenging, for the rocks are very slippery. Best shoes for the job are those cheap plastic ones (the Bowling brand is the best). Forget your Nike or Reebok. You'll end up with sprained ankles and bleeding knees.

Once we have set up camp, it's time for the fishing. We spread our along the river. Jerry, Steven and Ming opted for the Scanoe, ggoing way upriver. Fong, Tony and I trekked to nearby pools, baitfishing with soggy oil palm kernels.

The weather is unsettled, with the occasional drizzle and heavy downpour. Naturally, the kelah were off the feed. But Fong managed to land a gorgeous kelah of about 3-kg. The fight was just as amazing.

He had fished this huge pool, trying likely swims, to no avail. Finally, he went for the "suicidal spot": a deep channel with tons of sunken timber. The fish took the bait and immediately snagged the line among brush. They were deadlocked for a long time until Lady Luck came to the rescue. Somehow Fong managed to coax the fish out and eventually land it by the pebbly bank.

It had taken some fifteen minutes. His leader and mainline were in shreds, but he had the fish!

We took dozens of photos before we sent it on its way, none the worse for wear.

Mere minutes after this great catch, the heavens opened up, and the deluge thwarted the fishing. later, the flood came: muddy torrents laced with flotsam and rampaging logs.

We sat in camp for the next two days, waiting for the river to recover. Alas, another downpour came. Time to pack up and go home!

Well, we didn't catch much else on this trip, but the sight of that magnificant kelah is worth a dozen ventures.