KELLIE’S CASTLE BUJUKS

This article was published in the December 2002 issue of Rod and Line fishing magazine.

Kellie’s Castle is a well-known tourist attraction near Batu Gajah in Perak. Standing majestically on top of a green lush hill with the Raya River flowing serenely in front, one somehow always feel overwhelmed, just looking at the scene. William Kellie Smith, a Scot, started the process to have it built in 1915, but never completed it as he died suddenly in 1926.

Kellie's Castle with the muddy Raya River lowing past. To us the building had lost its mystical charm after it was 'discovered' and cleaned up for tourists.

 Many moons ago when the castle had not been ‘discovered’ by the tourist trade people yet, we few young guys were already exploring this place. Back then the building was covered by the jungle. Huge trees grew on top of the roof with roots clinging to the walls all the way to the ground. The quiet shady building with its many dark passages gave credence to our ghost stories related to our not so adventurous friends. Not many people could savor the beautiful sight of this mysterious building as access to it was blocked by the muddy Raya River.

Maniam holding up two of his bujuks. From the sound emanating from the center of the pond, there should be bigger monsters in there.

Crossing the fast flowing river required us to strip right down to our underwear, holding our belongings above our heads (African style) and gingerly picking our ways across the waist deep water. Of course, fictitious crocodiles were added in to make our story more interesting. We used to laugh our heads off at the naivety of some of our friends. When they asked how is it that none of us were attack, we would show them our mud tainted underwear with the label of a reptile. Some of them would kick us playfully when they knew we were pulling their legs.

I just could not resist photographing these pitcher plants. They were endemic to this area.

During those forays to the castle, we also go trekking and fishing at the vast hinterland behind the castle. To access this area, we got to go two kilometer further down the road. Those days the place was pockmarked with ponds. And rubber estates were the usual scene. Most of the ponds were snag free and our usual method for catching bujuks was with spinners and spoons. Boy, those were the days.

This one got hungry in the late evening.

Recently  an old friend, Maniam, dropped by. He is one of my long time fishing kakis. I still remember vividly one of our trips, where we had a good laugh. One of Maniam’s friends brought along his young son on one of our toman trips. While tackling up, the small boy called out to me excitedly, “Unker, unker, see, bootfly, bootfly”. Puzzled, I looked in the direction of his pointing finger. The most beautiful Great Mormon (Papilio Memnon Agenor) I had ever seen was perched on a flower, feeding. Suddenly the boy’s father cut in, “Yanna deh, blah, blah, bootfly, bootfly. Blah, blah, betterfly.” (Translated it meant, “What heck! Bootfly, bootfly. It should be pronounced as betterfly.”) The rest of us ran behind trees and bushes to laugh our heads off.

That weekend saw Maniam and me on our trusty cub-chais slowly meandering through the oil palm estates and former mining lands. Reaching our favorite pond, we found that it is now almost totally covered with a type of plants called “shooi koong chew” in Chinese, literally meaning ‘water banana trees.’

These plants had runners as thick as my arms and they crisscrossed all over the place. While surveying the place the unmistakable sound of snakeheads gulping down their preys were heard. Along the banks were clearings cut into the vegetation. Taking advantage of these clearings, we swung out our worm baits and waited. Because the bottom had some weeds growing, the method we used was having the the bait above the weight. Camouflaging ourselves behind some trees, we made ourselves comfortable.

Maniam wading into the pond to cut a clearing for fishing.

My friend was the first to get a bite. The unlucky juvenile bujuk was kept for my daughter who just had her appendicitis removed. Another small haruan ended up with the same fate. That ended our trip to our old haunt. As if to prove to us that giants do live there, Maniam had his 18lb line broken, when he went for his ‘buang suei’(urinate) session. He found his rod snagged on one of the plants on his return minus the fish.

The next week we were more prepared. Our knives were sharpened and lengths of raffia strings were brought along. Clearings were cut into this ‘jungle’ using our knives tied to long branches. Even with long branches, we still had to get into the water once in a while.

My God, you should see those aquatic Draculas gliding silently homing in on us. Just a few minutes in the water were enough to have hordes of these hungry creatures gleefully clinging on to our legs. They never failed to send shivers up my back. Wish we had a stove and wok as I would like to fry the whole lot of them crispy. How that Mark fellow sat in a bathtub full of leeches (20,000 to be exact) in that ‘Ripley’s Believe It Or Not’ program is beyond my comprehension.

This was the type of 'jungle' wee had to fish in. These 'shooi koong chew' had runners crisscrossing all over the surface. Underneath, hide many monsters, including bujuks.

Again my friend was the first to have his bait taken. This time we were using floats to keep our worms above the weeds. That beautifully patterned bujuk was landed after some thrashing in the pond. Fishing about five meters away, I saw my float slowly dipped below the surface. Bujuks do not feed like that, I thought to myself. When the culprit was lifted up, it was found to be an eel. That day must be its lucky day, for I dislike eels.

The bujuk that took my bait next must have a guardian angel looking after it. After thrashing and tugging, I lost it to the plants. My friend was luckier as he landed three snakeheads of reasonable sizes.

Our method of fishing was to ground bait out targeted place. Earthworms were chopped up finely and mixed with earth. This mixture was then strewn into the opening cut by us. Every now and then we threw in more mixture. This method had proven to be effective for fishing in such conditions. One thing that bugged me was the many tiny sepats, prits and other small fish that came for lunch. They could be a nuisance and be very irritating at times.One method of overcoming this problem was to use lizard or frog baits. At least we do not have to keep on redbaiting all the time.

This greedy eel got itself into trouble by not keeping its big mouth shut.

Rebaiting had its drawback. First you might get snagged and lose your rig. This was a constant occurrence. Secondly it reduces the time your bait was in the water thus reducing your chances of a hook-up. Thirdly it would make you very short tempered.

With the numerous gulping sound and broken line, we must be very uncommitted not to go back there again. Cutting our way into the pond and climbing up one of the short trees to fish is a very attractive idea. Our main problem was how to keep those bloodsuckers at bay. Most important was how to keep some of the more adventurous one from going up our orifices. Other than using plugs or rubber stoppers, I still could not see how we could solve our problem.

This was one of those aquatic Draculas. They could sense the vibration in the water and home in on you immediately.

The choice of partner in this type of fishing is a very important factor to consider. It is one thing to sit comfortably on the bank to fish. The whole scenario will change when you are been coiled and crushed by one of those big 'Tai Kors’. It will be ‘pocik’ (die) for you if your partner runs away.