I have always had a penchant for jungle rivers. There’s something about clear water flowing over boulders and sunken logs that evoke a feeling that I’m truly home. Maybe it’s memories of my childhood, fishing the overgrown little Sungai Korok in Kangar. I would spend whole days by the waterside casually fishing for haruan and puyu, watching the wildlife go by.
And so it was that I’m forever triggered when some friend or associate mentions some far-off river that I have not fished before. The immediate urge is to drop everything and pile my fishing tackle into the Ford Ranger.
Hanapiah knew this weakness of mine, and when he mentioned his planned trip to Sungai Sat in Pahang, he knew I would say yes. This river is a whole six hours’ boating from the basecamp of Kuala Tahan, and is seldom visited by even local anglers.
To cut a long story short, Hanapiah never did make the trip. I ended up taking over the reins. Six friends made the long drive from KL to the basecamp. On the next morning, we took two longboats up the Tembeling, fully laden with camping and fishing equipment.
Three hours later, we reached Kuala Sat. The river mouth was small, promising shallow rapids and riffles upstream. It would take another three hours to reach our predetermined campsite, often disembarking and pulling the heavy boats up the shallow stretches.
The river is typical of the Taman Negara streams; clear water flowing among huge sunken logs and rocky beds. Overhead the neram trees created a monstrous tunnel of foliage, making the river seem dark and foreboding.
We made camp in the gathering dusk. I noted that the elephant dung strewn on the sandbank had grown full mushrooms. This might signify trouble: the goliaths may be on their return leg. I was unfortunately proven right: for the next two nights, the beasts were trying to cross the river. We had to have a large campfire going all night and occasionally burn some firecrackers to ward them off!
For the fishing, we broke up into three pairs – it’s never safe to fish alone in a jungle river. Izzudin and I opted to trek upstream.
We found an old track on the left hand bank, followed it for half an hour, occasionally peering down to the river to select a choice pool. But a small rivulet coming out from the jungle caught our attention. Just a few yards in, we found a small swampy pond amongst the huge hardwoods. On a hunch, I put on a small Mini Whacker spinnerbait. My first cast was taken by a frisky haruan that fought all the way to the bank.
No, it wasn’t a haruan, but a mega haruan palas! This Channa species with grey flanks and bluish fins is a rarity, and to catch one of almost a kilogram is a truly memorable occasion. And our joy didn’t end there, for we were catching a fish at almost every cast!
Well, we took lots of photos and released each fish with care, then set off for our original agenda – catching some kelah or tengas from the deep river pools.
We had to cross the river several times before we came to a magnificent bend of the river with a dark, deep channel on the far side. A clean sandbank lay below our feet, studded with footprints of barking deer and a large tapir.
We cast our baits of oil palm kernel and earthworms and waited for the fish. It didn’t take long. A tengas took my worm bait and streaked across the stream. Minutes later, it came to the sandbank, a spent force.
We were catching one tengas after another, around the kilo mark. Then the bites stopped, as if the river had cottoned on to our intrusion. The river at the time was quite murky due to the rains, but was clearing up fast. We decided to change to the oil palm baits, and like clockwork, we started catching fish again.
A change of venue was needed, but we had gone too far away from camp. We had to go back if we were to reach camp by nightfall.
This time, we decided to wade all the way back, as much as we can. Halfway down the river, we came across a pretty pool that we had missed while trekking the jungle. The stream made this bend and threw itself at a huge log stretched across the river. Downstream of this woody “dam”, a huge brushpile hugged the steep bank. I could almost smell the kelah and tengas here!
I offered Izzudin first choice of fishing spot. He made his big mistake of the day, and opted for the upstream swim. Later, he had the dubious honour of having FIVE fish break his line among the rocks there!
I gingerly tip-toed to the spot below the log and set up my spot. My tackle was basic enough – a light spinning rod with 8-lb. mainline; a small hook on a 20-lb. fluorocarbon leader, with soft oil palm kernel as bait.
Twenty minutes into the session, my old Daiwa Gold Strike rod bent down to a savage take. It was just as well that I had it in hand all the while, for it would have flown into the river. The fish headed for the brushpile, as expected. Some side-strain stopped it just in time. It then streaked off downstream, stripping yards of line from the reel. The fish stopped, eventually, for the river had become too shallow over there. It was then that I knew this fellow was mine. When it changed course upstream, I reeled in quickly and guided it towards the near bank. Several minutes of tug-of-war followed, in snag-free water. Finally, I hauled it up the sandbank.
It was a beautifully red 1.5-kg. kelah with thick lips and median lobe (this was the Tor tambroides species). Izzudin, who by this time had ambled over, marveled at the fish – this was his first encounter with a wild kelah. He jokingly chastised me for letting him fish the upstream pool. I gently reminded him that I had already given him first choice. The rest is up to the gods!
We took photos of the fish and released it, none the worse for harm. It was getting late, so we packed up and went back to camp.
It was a happy camp, that night, save for the trouble with the elephants. Everyone had caught enough fish to sport wide grins.
Even on the next and final day, we still managed good sport on the river, although we couldn’t better that red kelah. Between us, we had caught some 70 fish, mostly tengas of around a kilogram. That alone made the trip a very memorable one.
SUNGAI SAT : HOW TO GET THERE
Sungai Sat is part of the Taman Negara at Kuala Tahan, Pahang. You can drive directly to the village via Mentakab. The basecamp is on the opposite bank, reachable by a service boat. Book a room for the night, either at the well-appointed resort in the camp, or in the village (there are lots of chalets there).
Book your boat at the basecamp office. You need to start early in the morning, to reach Sungai Sat in late afternoon.
WHAT TO BRING
There are absolutely no amenities in Sungai Sat. Bring your own camping gear and food. The wooden longboats have ample capacity, but it’s best to trim down on your gear, bringing just enough to last your stay. Dome tents are light and safe. Extra tarpaulin sheets serve as “kitchens” and ground sheets. Keep food items safe in cooler boxes or those plastic bullet boxes.
It’s humid in the jungle, and you will be sweat-drenched in no time. Wear light long-sleeved shirts and pants, preferably those quick-drying ones. Good trekking boots or the “rubber tapper” plastic shoes are recommended for jungle trekking or fording the river.
TACKLE TIPS
The tengas and kelah of Sungai Sat are not big. It is best to use light to medium tackle, using monofilament lines of 8 to 12-lb. test. For bait fishing, bring small barrel sinkers, small swivels, and short-shanked, suicide hooks in sizes 10 up to 2. The best hooks are black or gunmetal grey. My favourites are Gamakatsu Octopus and Owner Suicide Cutting Point.
Short leaders of about 20 – 25 cm., preferably of the “invisible” type like fluorocarbon or Daiwa Crystal Clear, will not spook the kelah. Use 15 to 20-lb test, depending on the conditions.
Spinning rods should be about 2.1 to 2.4-m. long, have a soft tip but sturdy butt section. Examples are Berkley Series One, Team Daiwa and Fenwick HMG. Small reliable reels like Shimano Biomaster 2500, Daiwa Kix 3000 and Penn Slammer 360 are good choices.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Sumatran Magic
THE MAHSEER OF MANINJAU
The AirAsia plane coasted to a stop in front of the Padang Minangkabau Airport Terminal. We disembarked and proceeded to the exit area. There was an irritating jam at the immigration counter; two flights have arrived at once, and only two personnel were on duty. It took almost an hour before we came out into the clear air of Western Sumatra.
Foo, Jeay and I were on a week-long vacation here, with lots of fishing thrown in. Cousin Dayat – I have Indonesian relaives based in Padang – served as guide for the whole trip, driving his Kijang along the challenging roads.
We climbed the mountains, avoiding careening lorries and overloaded passenger vans and potholes. It took hours, but we finally reached a beautiful blue lake called Danau DiAtas. It looked like a mini Lake Lucerne, with absolutely clear blue water nestled among the volcanic mountains.
We couldn’t hire a boat for fishing, so we went on to another lake, the huge Danau Singkarak. Here, we checked into a tranquil hotel with the archetypal horned roofs. Next morning, we managed to get a wooden passenger boat. It was not quite designed for fishing, but it’s better than nothing.
We tried the coves and drop-offs, casting small lures for the sebarau, but to no avail. Apparently, these fish grow to 5-kg. here. We saw several locals fishing from the banks, but they were not catching anything either. By lunchtime, we called it quits and headed back to the lakeside hotel.
We left Singkarak, stopping only to buy some Ikan Bilis – dried small fish that looked like seluang. They are delectable when friend to a crisp.
We climbed even higher up the mountains. At this apex, this hazy green lake came into view, some 1000 metres below us. It was a sight to behold, a crystal clear cold lake nestled in a crater guarded by a ring of volcanic mountains.
Dayat negotiated the 47 hair-pin bends down to the lake. We nearly threw up, but arrived without event at Danau Maninjau.
There’s 70-km. of tarmac road circumventing the lake. We drove along, looking for a ‘fishy’ spot. We finally stopped at a place called Muko-Muko. Here, the lake water exited into a hydro-electric generation scheme. More importantly, the shallow areas were cordoned off for angling. We paid our dues – 10,000 rupiah or RM4 for a day’s fishing – at this tiny fishing shop at the lakeside, then joined the local anglers at their game.
Bait came in the form of paste made from fish pellets and flour, mounted on small hooks below slim floats. Small fishes were caught: ikan nila (tilapia) and manjalaya (a plain version of our terbol).
We enquired about better gamefish. They indicated a small island just off Muko-Muko where we could get decent barau (sebarau) if we were lucky. And that’s what we did on the next day. An old wooden boat took us there, and for a few hours, we fished off the island.
There were hundreds of lampam, baby sebarau and terbol in the shallows. Occasionally, sebarau in the 2-kg. range would make their entrance, look around and return to the dark green depths. But try as we might, we couldn’t entice these elegant fish to take bait or lure.
We gave up and returned to Muko-Muko. After a council of war over hot tea and local sweets, we decided to drive down from the lake in search of better waters.
It was a good decision. We came across a place called Antokan. A rocky river flowed by the road, and a water gate at the village created a pool of sorts. Here, locals were fishing with pellet-paste and oil palm kernel for the garing (kelah).
We discovered that this stretch of river was a sungai larangan – a tagal program – and the fishing is opened for only two weeks. We arrived smack in the middle of it.
We hustled some bait off the locals. Actually, they were a benevolent lot. They even made space for us on the riverbank for our fishing. But we were made to eat humble pie – we just couldn’t hook a fish whilst the villagers with their RM20 rods and reels were hauling in fish almost like clockwork.
We realized later that they were extremely specialised in this sport of garing fishing. They were using ultra-light lines of 3-lb test, with similar leaders, and hooks so tiny they could hardly accommodate a grain of rice. Not the kind of kelah fishing I was used to!
Well, we ended up fishless, but it was great to see the Maninjau anglers gracefully trotting their slim floats down the current and hooking up to the elegant garing.
The sun had gone down, and we finally gave up on the fishing. Foo bought a small garing from one of the locals. Both he and Jeay had never tasted a kelah before, so this was as good a time as any. We proceeded to the eating shop downstream, and had a rice dinner.
I have vowed not to eat kelah. It’s been seven years now, and I have lost the yearning for it completely. But Foo, Dayat and Jeay attested that the garing was the best tasting river fish they had ever taken.
It was good to end on that note. We would be leaving Maninjau tomorrow, heading for the highlands of Bukit Tinggi and beyond. But our short spell in Maninjau certainly had a lasting imprint in our minds. As I gazed down on the droning river rushing down the channel into the black of night, I had that feeling that I’ll be back, one day.
OTHER PLACES OF ANGLING INTEREST IN WEST SUMATRA
• Danau Singkarak
Large sebarau are reputed to dwell here, living off the thousands of ikan bilis. There are gazetted areas for land-based fishing, but it’s better to rent a boat for your lure-fishing.
• Danau DiAtas & Danau DiBawah
These are smaller lakes, with small fishes like terbol and lampam, and some sebarau up to 2-kg.
• Sungai Sangir
A long, clear river about the size of our Tembeling River in Pahang, with plenty of riffles and pools. Sebarau and garing can be found here. There are no larangan areas, but you need 4WD wagons or at least a hardy Kijang (similar to the Toyota unser) to get around and find the choice fishing spots.
• Kolam Ikan Sakti at Air Putih, near Bukit Tinggi
This is a permanent larangan water, but worth a visit just to see the huge garing. You can fish the almost-tame fish with bread and river clams. The garing average around 4-kg. I have spotted several giants of around 25-kg.!
• Sungai Minturun, Padang
A small river about 30 minutes from downtown Padang. There used to be a larangan program here, but now you can fish the larger pools upon permission and some contribution to the local village.
• Padang beach
Padang holds an annual fishing competition at its beach. Locals frequent the esplanade for their late afternoon fishing.
• Persisiran
Located about 2 hours’ drive south of Padang. The river is a larangan, and is only opened once a year for an angling competition.
FISHING TACKLE FOR RIVER AND LAKE FISHING IN WEST SUMATRA
I suggest you bring light and ultra-light tackle. The waters are generally very clear, so the fishes are naturally shy of your terminal tackle.
• Mainlines of 3- to to 8-lb. would suffice. Leaders should be near-invisible, e.g. Vision and Daiwa Crystal Clear.
• Small hooks – size 12 or smaller – are recommended.
• For lure fishing in Singkarak, small lures are the order of the day, to match the ikan bilis – not more than 5 cm long.
Good fishing tackle are hard to come by I West Sumatra. It is recommended that you bring all you need. Bring extra spools of decent light monofilament line. The locals will thank you for them!
The AirAsia plane coasted to a stop in front of the Padang Minangkabau Airport Terminal. We disembarked and proceeded to the exit area. There was an irritating jam at the immigration counter; two flights have arrived at once, and only two personnel were on duty. It took almost an hour before we came out into the clear air of Western Sumatra.
Foo, Jeay and I were on a week-long vacation here, with lots of fishing thrown in. Cousin Dayat – I have Indonesian relaives based in Padang – served as guide for the whole trip, driving his Kijang along the challenging roads.
We climbed the mountains, avoiding careening lorries and overloaded passenger vans and potholes. It took hours, but we finally reached a beautiful blue lake called Danau DiAtas. It looked like a mini Lake Lucerne, with absolutely clear blue water nestled among the volcanic mountains.
We couldn’t hire a boat for fishing, so we went on to another lake, the huge Danau Singkarak. Here, we checked into a tranquil hotel with the archetypal horned roofs. Next morning, we managed to get a wooden passenger boat. It was not quite designed for fishing, but it’s better than nothing.
We tried the coves and drop-offs, casting small lures for the sebarau, but to no avail. Apparently, these fish grow to 5-kg. here. We saw several locals fishing from the banks, but they were not catching anything either. By lunchtime, we called it quits and headed back to the lakeside hotel.
We left Singkarak, stopping only to buy some Ikan Bilis – dried small fish that looked like seluang. They are delectable when friend to a crisp.
We climbed even higher up the mountains. At this apex, this hazy green lake came into view, some 1000 metres below us. It was a sight to behold, a crystal clear cold lake nestled in a crater guarded by a ring of volcanic mountains.
Dayat negotiated the 47 hair-pin bends down to the lake. We nearly threw up, but arrived without event at Danau Maninjau.
There’s 70-km. of tarmac road circumventing the lake. We drove along, looking for a ‘fishy’ spot. We finally stopped at a place called Muko-Muko. Here, the lake water exited into a hydro-electric generation scheme. More importantly, the shallow areas were cordoned off for angling. We paid our dues – 10,000 rupiah or RM4 for a day’s fishing – at this tiny fishing shop at the lakeside, then joined the local anglers at their game.
Bait came in the form of paste made from fish pellets and flour, mounted on small hooks below slim floats. Small fishes were caught: ikan nila (tilapia) and manjalaya (a plain version of our terbol).
We enquired about better gamefish. They indicated a small island just off Muko-Muko where we could get decent barau (sebarau) if we were lucky. And that’s what we did on the next day. An old wooden boat took us there, and for a few hours, we fished off the island.
There were hundreds of lampam, baby sebarau and terbol in the shallows. Occasionally, sebarau in the 2-kg. range would make their entrance, look around and return to the dark green depths. But try as we might, we couldn’t entice these elegant fish to take bait or lure.
We gave up and returned to Muko-Muko. After a council of war over hot tea and local sweets, we decided to drive down from the lake in search of better waters.
It was a good decision. We came across a place called Antokan. A rocky river flowed by the road, and a water gate at the village created a pool of sorts. Here, locals were fishing with pellet-paste and oil palm kernel for the garing (kelah).
We discovered that this stretch of river was a sungai larangan – a tagal program – and the fishing is opened for only two weeks. We arrived smack in the middle of it.
We hustled some bait off the locals. Actually, they were a benevolent lot. They even made space for us on the riverbank for our fishing. But we were made to eat humble pie – we just couldn’t hook a fish whilst the villagers with their RM20 rods and reels were hauling in fish almost like clockwork.
We realized later that they were extremely specialised in this sport of garing fishing. They were using ultra-light lines of 3-lb test, with similar leaders, and hooks so tiny they could hardly accommodate a grain of rice. Not the kind of kelah fishing I was used to!
Well, we ended up fishless, but it was great to see the Maninjau anglers gracefully trotting their slim floats down the current and hooking up to the elegant garing.
The sun had gone down, and we finally gave up on the fishing. Foo bought a small garing from one of the locals. Both he and Jeay had never tasted a kelah before, so this was as good a time as any. We proceeded to the eating shop downstream, and had a rice dinner.
I have vowed not to eat kelah. It’s been seven years now, and I have lost the yearning for it completely. But Foo, Dayat and Jeay attested that the garing was the best tasting river fish they had ever taken.
It was good to end on that note. We would be leaving Maninjau tomorrow, heading for the highlands of Bukit Tinggi and beyond. But our short spell in Maninjau certainly had a lasting imprint in our minds. As I gazed down on the droning river rushing down the channel into the black of night, I had that feeling that I’ll be back, one day.
OTHER PLACES OF ANGLING INTEREST IN WEST SUMATRA
• Danau Singkarak
Large sebarau are reputed to dwell here, living off the thousands of ikan bilis. There are gazetted areas for land-based fishing, but it’s better to rent a boat for your lure-fishing.
• Danau DiAtas & Danau DiBawah
These are smaller lakes, with small fishes like terbol and lampam, and some sebarau up to 2-kg.
• Sungai Sangir
A long, clear river about the size of our Tembeling River in Pahang, with plenty of riffles and pools. Sebarau and garing can be found here. There are no larangan areas, but you need 4WD wagons or at least a hardy Kijang (similar to the Toyota unser) to get around and find the choice fishing spots.
• Kolam Ikan Sakti at Air Putih, near Bukit Tinggi
This is a permanent larangan water, but worth a visit just to see the huge garing. You can fish the almost-tame fish with bread and river clams. The garing average around 4-kg. I have spotted several giants of around 25-kg.!
• Sungai Minturun, Padang
A small river about 30 minutes from downtown Padang. There used to be a larangan program here, but now you can fish the larger pools upon permission and some contribution to the local village.
• Padang beach
Padang holds an annual fishing competition at its beach. Locals frequent the esplanade for their late afternoon fishing.
• Persisiran
Located about 2 hours’ drive south of Padang. The river is a larangan, and is only opened once a year for an angling competition.
FISHING TACKLE FOR RIVER AND LAKE FISHING IN WEST SUMATRA
I suggest you bring light and ultra-light tackle. The waters are generally very clear, so the fishes are naturally shy of your terminal tackle.
• Mainlines of 3- to to 8-lb. would suffice. Leaders should be near-invisible, e.g. Vision and Daiwa Crystal Clear.
• Small hooks – size 12 or smaller – are recommended.
• For lure fishing in Singkarak, small lures are the order of the day, to match the ikan bilis – not more than 5 cm long.
Good fishing tackle are hard to come by I West Sumatra. It is recommended that you bring all you need. Bring extra spools of decent light monofilament line. The locals will thank you for them!
Friday, July 16, 2010
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.
Intro Intro Intro Intro...
Hi there!
I just thought I'd put "pen to paper", sharing my travels in Malaysia and beyond.
I'm an angling writer, and have had my fair share of trips into the Malaysian jungle, and to rivers and lakes of various countries. So, if you are into the outdoors, water sports and a bit of culture, do read on! :-)
Allow me to introduce myself in more detail...
Currently, I'm a Change Manager in a large corporation in Malaysia. For a life, however, I'm a passionately angler, and a regular writer for the local mags and tabloids. I'm also leading a small NGO called Kelah Association of Malaysia or KAGUM (www.kagum.org), deicated towards helping the country conserve the rivers and their indigenous fishes.
The Kelah (Tor tambroides/tambra; Malayan Greater Brook Carp; Malayan Red Mahseer; see pic above) was chosen as our symbol. It's a beautiful red mahseer found in the upstream waters of our jungle rivers. Lately, this species is under serious threat of extinction due to river siltation/pollution and over-fishing. It has also become a sought-after aquarium fish and restaurant delicacy. There are joints in KL selling kelah dishes at up to RM800 a kg.!
Ironically, the kelah is also a sought after sportfish. Most anglers in Malaysia practice catch-and-release (CNR) on this fish, due to its endangered status.
I have been angling for kelah in many rivers for some fifteen years now, and have stopped consuming it for about ten years. It's a personal commitment towards conserving this awesome fish. In 2005, a group of us anglers formed KAGUM, to further the cause.
My love for the mahseer and other fishes of the great rivers have brrought me to many beautiful places, and I hope to share some of them with you.
Happy reading!
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