For information on Ontario meetings, please contact Svatka Hermanek: shermanek@schulich.yorku.ca or Bruce Weber: tel. 416-203-0911 or Paul Webb: tel. 416-694-8259.

Meetings are held on the third Friday of January, March, May, September and November. Usually at the Woodsworth Co-op, Penthouse, 133, Wilton Street in down town Toronto at 8.00pm.

There’s a well trodden “tourist” route in Sabah, Borneo. Most people arrive in KK (Kota Kinabalu), from mainland Malaysia or Brunei. The usual route is to make the 1 night 2 day climb of Mt Kinabalu, scoff at seeing the ‘circus’ of orang-utans at Sepilok, (but still go,) do a jungle trek (complete with leeches when it rains) at Kinabatangan, and end up diving around Sipadan. The Beetle however, obviously a wuss, headed direct from KK for the delightful town of Semporna to go diving around Sipadan.

I am told that Semporna translates from Malay to mean ‘beautiful’. Beautiful it ain’t. It’s a small place clustered around the sea front, spilling up a small hill where a motley collection of shops, two budget hotels, an internet café, one KFC, a Courts Mammoth, Maybank, a supermarket and the mini van terminus can be found. Down the slope by the sea there are fish markets (upsettingly selling manta rays, blue spotted rays and sharks amongst the usual tuna etc.,) lots of small rickety wooden stalls with people selling water melons, small plastic bags of tomatoes, durian, bananas, rambutans, small piles of chillies, ginger and the like. The road from the top of the town leads via a small roundabout with a rusting sculpture of a marlin in a circle down a small incline to the central market and wharf. The road is broken up, badly pot holed and largely comprises rough gravel. Partially open culverts run by the side of the roads.

The place stinks and you have to pick your way around gaping holes in the pavement and road, steel girders stretched across the pavement and road, debris from semi abandoned buildings and rubbish: decomposing food, dead animals and plastic bags abound. Several divers came a cropper on any one/combination of the above and hurt themselves – and this on land and not in the sea.

Opposite the wharf, there’s the Dragon Inn budget hotel, a collection of long houses on stilts in the sea. To the right of that is the somewhat posher Seafest Hotel and cafe. In between there’s a small collection of dive operations.

I arrived during Ramadan, a time when there are a lot of dusty fruit and veg stalls during the day but the supermarket is closed until 7pm. The KFC was not doing a great deal of business during the day either, though there is a large Chinese population in Semporna and they were not fasting and could be found sitting in the kedai kopi – coffee shops. After 6.30pm, the local Malays broke their fast and sat in open air restaurants watching violent movies whilst feral cats fought beside for scraps of food. The owner of the place I stayed at, Lees Rest House gave me his views on Semporna, but not first without complaining how hard it was to do business as a Chinese person in Malay society. I was told that there were many illegal Filipino people, as Mindanao, in the south of the Philippines is close by.

You may wonder, from my description of Semporna, why I stayed there. Simple: because this is the best place to stay to go diving around Sipadan. The alternatives are to go and stay in one of two very swish resorts on Mabul – too expensive for me – one quoted me £1,100 for 7 days’ diving and accommodation, and the other is even more expensive. Another option is to stay in a long house on Mabul, which I did think about as it would mean that I could sleep in a little until the dive boat arrived from Semporna, but, being a Beetle, I decided to stay in my small but clean and air con’d room at Lees Guest House for 40 Ringits a night – about £6 and that I could run the twice daily gamut of hisses and whistles from the local men whilst walking down to the dive shop and back. They’ve obviously not seen a Beetle before.

A small oasis in the town called Semporna is a dive shop called Scuba Junkies, complete with fury creature Ewok, a white gangling ball of walking fluffiness. I did 21 dives with Scuba Junkies over seven days and can recommend them whole heartedly; they were professional, safe and fun to be with. The diving around Sipadan more than made up for staying in Semporna, which faded into insignificance compared to the sharks, turtles and reef fish I saw.

Sipadan diving really is world class diving. One dive site called Barracuda Point has so many resting sharks on sandy slopes and turtles that it is easy to become blasé about them. We also saw small schools of barracuda too, and I saw two leopard sharks, my first sighting ever. March/April time there are sometimes schools of hammerheads sharks. At times there are so many turtles that you have to get out of their way as they ease of their ledges or move from sandy patches. This is not necessarily deep diving, you can see all you hope to at less than 25 metres; yes, sometimes, there were strong-ish currents but nothing too difficult and on top of the reef at between 9 and 5 metres there was always a myriad of hundreds of reef fish.

There’s macro diving too, if that is your thing. I felt so in awe of the ‘big stuff’ around Sipadan that I did not want to miss out on that so only made three macro dives around Mabul. On one dive, around the pillars supporting an old oil exploration rig that is now the Sea Ventures floating hotel, at around 12 metres underneath a pile of iron girders is the most enormous moray eel I have ever seen. He is called Elvis, though I don’t know why. On the macro dives, we saw frog fish, scorpion leaf fish, juvenile sweetlips and there are sea horses, though I did not see one.

All of the photos in this article were kindly given to the Beetle by Tino, dive instructor, and one of the owners of Scuba Junkies.

We had just finished a fantastic evening barbecue at our Kakadu hostel. Most of us were settling in for an evening of drinking, talking and fighting off insects around the camp fire.

“Come on everyone, let’s go croc spotting” the hostel host said enthusiastically.

“Croc spotting?” someone exclaimed “but it’s night time?”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he said somewhat disheartened before adding. “I just thought you’d like to! Kakadu is another world at night!”

He paused to think of what else he could say to sway those hesitant.

“You don’t know when you will be back? But I’ll leave it up to you. I will be leaving in 10 minutes which will give you enough time to grab a jumper, a torch and put on a pair of walking shoes. Therefore, if you decide to come, you can meet me at the hostel gate”.

I already knew that I wanted to go night croc spotting. After all, I didn’t come all this way to miss out on anything. Off we headed into the darkness, a mini bus-load of city dwellers led by a bearded, bare-footed reptile lover along a moon lit dirt track in search of salt-water crocodiles. After a 15 minute walk which involved brief stops to look at the local flora and fauna including a spider which could have easily slapped someone with one of its huge legs, we arrived at a causeway.

“This is close enough I think” said our host. The causeway can be crossed by foot during the dry season, but as we weren’t quite in this season yet the causeway still had water rushing over it. Apparently it was a great fishing area. Unfortunately, we were told that only the week before a young boy was taken by a crocodile while fishing with his father here.

Our host spotlighted the causeway with his torch. We were about 50 feet away from it. A long, rough, grey croc tail disappeared over some rocks. This brought gasps of ‘wow’. It truly was an incredible sight to see a crocodile in its natural habitat. He then scanned the river with his torch.

“Look” he said excitedly “see those two orange snake eyes?”

I squinted into the darkness until I saw those two orange spots.

“Well that’s a croc” he said “and a bloody big one too”.

“How can you tell?” someone asked.

“The larger the eyes the bigger the croc. I’d say that one is at least 6 foot long, even more”.

“Wow” someone said. Wow seemed to be the word of the evening as most of us stumbled for words describe what we were seeing.

The area turned out to be mission control for our crocodile spotting. We all took turns standing next to our host looking at those illuminated, transparent, marble-like eyes. They were hypnotising. I felt like a kangaroo staring into some headlights.

More pairs of orange marbles appeared hovering in the darkness ahead of us. There must have been at least a dozen. No doubt, the buggers were thinking, food, succulent live food of all shapes and sizes, all waiting for an underwater roll. I was glad they were all over there and we were here.

“Have you ever smelt croc before?” our host suddenly asked.

“No” someone said, and I thought, I don’t think I want to.

“Can you smell that briny, salty water smell?”

I stuck my nose out into the darkness and let the smell fill my nostrils. It was an odour I was familiar with. It was similar to the smell of drying seaweed on a beach. Yeah I can smell that briny, salty water smell which intensified the longer I smelt it. No cause for alarm though I thought, after all, we have kept our distance.

“RUN” our host yelled.

It took a few seconds for what our host just said to register, but when it did, I and everyone else joined our host high tailing it back up the track. Whether this was a joke or not I am not sure. However, if you take a trip into Kakadu and your host of the hostel asks you to come for a walk to do some night croc spotting make sure you stay behind him at all times.

When we were younger, there was a TV program called Daktari. It was about a family in Africa, who looked after and raised many different types of orphaned wild animals. As kids we loved it and I remember getting deeply emotionally attached to the different animals.

Subsequently, having grown up in the bush in Africa and through my work as a ranger, I have taken care of many orphaned animals, all the way from small bush babies, giraffes, elephants and lions – even injured birds that had flown into power lines or windows.

My wife, Michèle also used to watch Daktari in France where she grew up. Already then she vowed to live in Africa one day and to look after animals herself. Her dream came true when we met on a game reserve, and she was able to assist in hand-raising a baby zebra which had been attacked by lions, an orphaned wildebeest, and two small orphaned warthogs whose mother had been killed by lions. Since then, there have been many more…

A very good friend is a quadriplegic. The joy he had (and us!) when we spent time together and he was able to help in raising these animals inspired an idea. We learnt, through our friend, that there is always a way to ‘make a plan’ so that he could assist in much of the day to day work needed to look after the animals. We rose to the challenge and modified or altered tools so that he could assist the animals nevertheless! Thus ‘making a plan’ is central to what Daktari is about.

The idea took shape and eventually we decided to set up a charity where people from all walks of life, underprivileged, handicapped or simply in need of a break or an adventure could have the opportunity of caring for animals in need and learn about nature. At Daktari they will all work together as one team – we will not segregate by race, religion, ideology or physical condition.

We have set ourselves a great challenge: our aim is to give people a chance to make themselves useful, to show them that they are needed, encourage them to take responsibility and let them be proud of their work and contribution to conservation. At the same time we want to offer animals a chance to survive in a world where nature has to retreat more and more in the face of human development. Hence, ‘doing good’ to people and animals is equally important to us. If every person on this planet has these two simple tenets, perhaps the world will be a better place to live in?

Daktari is not run by amateurs – it is run by experienced people who, if they do not know what to do, know whom to ask! It is run by people who have a common dream – and have the love and dedication to do it. For us, Daktari is a chance to share our world and some of the magical experiences that we have had in the bush over the years with others and it is thus immensely rewarding. It is a great character building experience for anyone that joins us and we hope that many more projects like this are started in the rest of the world and that our visitors share the knowledge and experiences they have gained!

Daktari is situated near the Kruger Park in South Africa, on a private reserve of 700 hectares, containing numerous plains game, but none of the “big five”. The closest town is Hoedspruit in the Limpopo Province. In the area there are many attractions, game drives in big five reserves, hot air ballooning, white water rafting, tours to the Kruger Park, reptile park, rehab centres, cheetah breeding project, Blyde River Canyon and many more!

We would be more than happy to tell you more about the project, and our accommodation (Daktari no longer rent out accommodation.) – just email or call. If you would like to get involved in the project – any help is greatly appreciated! Contact details are on our web page: http://africanorphanage.com

West Java is one of the five provinces of Java, Indonesia. Bandung is the capital city. The greater part of west Java is mountainous, with the Priangan highlands forming the core territory. 21 mounts can be found here, most of which are classified as active volcanoes and have become an integral part of tourism in the West Java province.

Mount Tangkuban Perahu (capsized boat) is one of them. A smouldering 2000m wide, surrealistic volcano 1800m above sea level, it lies 28 km north of Bandung reachable within 30 minute ride.

The Legend of Sangkuriang

This is an example of how nature was converted into a legend, such as Bandung lake and Mt Tangkuban Perahu with the story of Queen Dayang Sumbi and her son Sangkuriang cited from Neuman va Padang (1971). Once Sangkuriang, whilst growing up, he was so naughty and got hurt and the wound formed an ugly scar.

The King, who loved his son above everything was so furious that his son had hurt himself that he rejected his wife.  Fifteen years later, being of age, Sangkuriang asked his father permission to take a trip to West Java.  After arriving in the plain of Bandung, he met a beautiful lady, fell in love and ask her to marry him and she accepted.  But one day when she caressed her lover's head she saw the wound. The loving woman, turned out to be the disowned queen, discovered that she was in love with her son and marriage was impossible.

The marriage had to be prevented. Not willing to admit that she was his mother she thought of a way out. The day before the wedding was due to take place, she said to her husband to be, tomorrow is our wedding day, and if you are true to your love to me and love me as much you say do then I want to celebrate the wedding on board a ship, a proa.  Tomorrow morning at day break, I want to sail with you on a great lake in a nice boat and there must be a banquet feast.  Sangkuriang was embarrassed but he was not willing to refuse.  He begged the help of the lake's helpful spirits. By causing a landslide, the lake spirit dammed the river Citarum that flowed through the plain of Bandung.  The force of the water felled big tree and a boat was constructed while other lake spirits prepared the wedding banquet.

Early in the morning the Queen saw that the impossible had been realised so she prayed to Brama, the mighty God, to help her to prevent the disgrace of a marriage between a mother and her son.  Brama destroyed the dam in turbulence and Sangkuriang was drowned.  The queen in her agony threw herself on the capsized boat, breaking through the hull of the ship and was also drowned.

Now, the vast plain of Bandung is flanked on its north side by the volcano Tangkuban Perahu, the  capsized boat.  The Queen's jump on the hull of the ship is the Kawah Ratu, the crater of the Queen.  The hot fumaroles and tremors in the crater represent the tears of the sad mother still sobbing.  East of Mt Tangkuban Perahu rises the Bukit Tunggul, trunk mountain, the trunk of the tree from which the boat was made and to the west we find Mt Burangrang, the “crown of leaves”.  At many places along the shore of the lake Neolithic obsidian tools of primitive inhabitants are found and described by von Koeningswald (1935).  These Neolithic people noticed that the hold was cut deeper and deeper by erosion caused by the lowering water. Finally only a marshy plain remained.

Centuries later the inhabitants of Bandung plain still know about the legend of the existence of a former lake. Not knowing anything about geology, but living in the taboos of spirit ghosts and Gods, geological facts were put together in a tale that was understandable.

If you are thinking of holiday trip, or even just information on any travel requirements in Java especially Indonesia, please do not hesitate to contact me. I'll be most happy to assist you. Tedy can be contacted by e-mail as follows: abctour_td@cbn.net.id.