Close Encounters of the Furred Kind
It was our honeymoon. We were told not to keep any food in our back-pack when we entered the Orang-utan Sanctuary.
No food, no insect repellent, nothing with any strong scent in the bag.
“Of course, no, no, noted, understood” as we snuck the Snickers Bars back in the bag. I mean what was the worst that could happen? Pick-pocketed by an orang-utan? We didn’t think so.
30 minutes later as the orang-utan was clawing at our flimsy back-pack I remembered with horror the insect repellent we'd also left in our bag. I could imagine the consumption of the Snickers Bars passing off as an amusing anecdote, but an orang-utan poisoning by tourist negligence. It could turn into an international incident.
It was mid-morning feeding time at Sepilok Orang-utan Sanctuary, when the rangers lay out the fruits of the forest on the feeding platform in the middle of this preserved patch of Bornean Rainforest, and wait for the orang-utans to return from the forest.
Sepilok is the most popular place in the world to see orang-utans in a semi-wild state. Rescued orang-utans are brought here in order for them to be rehabilitated and re-released back into the jungle.
The decline of the orang-utan population in Borneo over the last 20 years due to Palm Oil plantations and illegal logging has been alarming.
A group of 30 or so of us waited in anticipation on the boardwalks, peering into the treetops, waiting for the tell-tale swaying of the uppermost branches, a flash of orange fur, the parting of leaves revealing a cheeky primate grin.
And then it was there, without warning, stooping hunched along the boardwalk towards us, the celebrity through the parting crowd – making a beeline straight for us!
It was my first time seeing Orang-utans in Borneo. In my mind I had pictured a cute, toy-like creature you might pick up and cuddle or perhaps even high-five or give a friendly piggy-back to. I wasn’t expecting a monster. With claws!
Ignoring everybody, including us, the orang-utan made a bee-line straight for our bag. There was no form of defence. Within a moment it was scratching and clawing at the bag, ripping open the fragile back-pack.
Poisoning I felt was imminent. I was sure it was just going to down the insect repellent in one go. I could already feel the long arm of the Malaysian law hot on my collar. Poisoning an orang-utan – it could be a twenty-year stretch!
We were saved by a ranger, who with a disarming nonchelance strolled up to the orang-utan and gave it two hefty clouts across the top of the head. As the third was coming it dropped the bag and slouched off, back into the forest with what could only be described as a look of total disgust in our direction.
“You’ll need to go back a different way” the ranger told us. “He will be waiting down that way for you”.
It was only when we got back to the Information Centre that we looked up to the ceiling to see the display of ripped bags, crushed cameras and other paraphernalia there - hanging mobiles of primate destruction.
We were lucky to get away with our close encounter. It really could have been much worse.
It wasn’t how we’d anticipated getting close to an orang-utan and despite no damage being done, it taught us a lesson. Respect the rangers, respect the rainforest – and don’t go back down the same trail if the ranger tells you not to.
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