SHORT-LIVED SEBARAU HAVEN

This article was published in the January/March 2001 issue of Asian Anglers' World of Singapore.

 
 A tract of land at the edge of a jungle was being cleared for water melon plantation. I was told by one of my colleagues. And a stream running through the area was offering up a good  number of sebarau (hampala macrolepidota). I sprang into action and phoned Mr. Raju, a water melon exporter, for more and better information.

The result of logging.

     The information I got from him was really exciting. The swampy land fringing one of his water melon plantations was being cleared. Together with the logs, fish of all sizes were being carried out by the loggers there. Immediately, an appointment was wrangled from him (you have to be thick skin here).

     Come Sunday, James and I waited in vain for Mr. Raju, who was to guide us to his plantation, to turn up. It was my fault for I had forgotten to remind him of our meeting. One thing I pride myself on, is my persistence, when it comes to searching for fishing spots. With the help of Mr. Raju's directions given over the phone, we managed to find the plantation. It was at the edge of the jungle near Sungai Durian, Tanjung Tualang, in Perak.

     We saw sawn logs strewn all over the place. They have been cut and were to be dropped into specially dug canals, which will transport the logs by boat to their destination. Our fishing spot was a stream flowing through this jungle. Without a boat, our joy was short lived, for we could not gain access to the stream.

     Chatting up the logging contractor intensified our fishing itch. He told us of a three kilo sebarau that panicked and jumped into his boat in the narrow canal. (Hmmm) He advised us to bring along a small boat the next time. When we were leaving we met a group of fishermen coming back from their trip to the stream. They must have heard the news too. Their catch was mainly bujuk or murrel.

     The ensuing seven days before we made our second trip to this jungle stream, were the longest of my life. The sheep I was counting in bed changed into sebaraus leaping over rapids!

     Next week saw James, Foong and I pushing off into the stream in Foong's boat.  But it was not to be our day. We cast spinners, lures, live fish and almost our entire tackle box too, but no strikes at all! The water was like teh tarik. (the color of milk tea). Changing to worms, Foong managed to land four small terbuls (member of the carp family) from one of the canals. Another frustrating day was chalked up in our fishing diaries.

     Fishing enthusiasts never say die. We had to make another try. There were four of us on this third attempt at the sebarau.  Four well-fed anglers were cramped into my old Sunny, plus equipment and a boat tied topside. With so much weight on board, I had to drive very slowly along the muddy, bumpy dirt road that led to our destination. I took my hat off to my old jalopy for staying in one piece and transporting us safely to the edge of the jungle.

This small sebarau put up a good fight.

     Unloading the boat and all our gear was a cinch with four pairs of willing hands. Ah Wai eased the boat out into the canal and we were excited when we saw the water condition. It was perfect for sebarau fishing. The color was neither too clear nor turbid. Having overflowed its bank, the jungle stream had flooded the surrounding jungle. the current in the main stream was fast, which could signal sebarau!

     Mooring our boat about ten meters away from the fast-flowing stream, we walked the rest of the way so as not to spook the fish. It was torture walking on the soft, water-logged peat soil. A careless step and we would find our feet sinking into deep muck. Occasionally, a wading boot would be left stuck in the goo and the unfortunate owner would have to bear the stench of rotting peat while he groped for his boot.

     But I wasn't complaining too much. The fishing to be had would overcome this slight discomfort. Casting several time into the rushing water with a Shad Rap did not produce any strike. It was a totally different story when I changed to a minnow-shaped lure. Something grabbed it, ran and my lure came back with its treble straightened. (I hate to use thick trebles on small lures as they impede the action).

     Changing to a jig fitted with a soft rubber fish, resulted in the sebarau following and turning back at the surface. The Blade Runner saved the day for me. Fish after fish were caught and released. The moment the lure went past the turbulent water, wham! ...another fish would be on. The fights were short and furious as most of the sebaraus were small.

Some of our catches.

     Variety is the spice of life, so the saying goes. A small Rattling Fat Rap was sent into the water to try its luck. There were two powerful whacks, but no hook-ups. The third strike got result. Quite a scrappy little fighter too.

Lures the author used: (top left) no strikes despite many follows. (bottom left) hook-ups occasionally. (top right) many strikes, but hooks did not hold.  (bottom  right) the best of the lot.

     Ah Keong, who was on the opposite bank, was using small, live fish with silvery bodies without any result. Putting on a small lead shot changed everything in his favour. The moment he began reeling in his line, his bait was hit and he was happily landing fish after fish. The sebaraus were hitting deep and only at the turbulent part of the stream.

     I heard Ah Wai curse when his line broke for the fourth time. He was fishing further downstream, drifting his live bait into the swift current. He would give his rod a few twitches and "pow", the fight would be on. The sebaraus here were expert street fighters. They were well trained in fighting dirty. The moment they were hooked, either they headed for the sunken branches of which there were plenty, or the sharp mengkuang leaves hanging over the water. Unable to land any fish, Ah Wai moved upstream from where he managed to land two beauties. One of them even put up an acrobatic display before being netted.

Ah Keong landing his fish.

     By 2.00pm the sebaraus went for their siesta and we were left with no action at all .Well, if the sebaraus were not cooperating the we would go for the bujuk. Clambering over tree stumps and branches, we tried jigging over likely bujuk spots. With the whole place flooded the bujuks were out gallivanting somewhere for we failed to raise any response.

This live bait beats them all.

     By five we had enough fun and headed back. This was one of my best sebarau trips. Though the fish were small compared with what I had caught in the past, they made it up in sheer number of strikes.