{"id":44869,"date":"2020-03-19T17:55:18","date_gmt":"2020-03-19T21:55:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/?p=44869"},"modified":"2023-05-06T17:53:08","modified_gmt":"2023-05-06T21:53:08","slug":"on-watch-the-two-cover-girls-of-borneo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/story\/destinations\/two-cover-girls-of-borneo\/","title":{"rendered":"On Watch: The Two Cover Girls of Borneo"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Percy <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n On the dock at Camp Leakey, Princess\u2019 son, Percy, greets the Cap\u2019n and Carolyn. Once they get to know each other a little better, he\u2019ll escort them to the reception area.<\/span>\n Courtesy Gary M. Goodlander<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n

In October 1975, while building our 36-foot ketch Carlotta <\/i>from scratch, I happened to pick up a copy of National Geographic<\/i> magazine featuring Borneo. On its cover was what appeared to me to be a sexy hippy chick, with a cute female orangutan on her hip and another on the ground in front of her. The standing orangutan was named Princess. It turns out the women\u2019s name was Dr. Birut\u00e8 Galdikas, a \u00adprimatologist and conservationist, which I discovered as soon as I actually stopped to read the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

But it was that image that spoke directly to me, not merely because of how foxy the doctor looked, but because of its deep-in-the-jungle exoticness. Though I was 23, dead broke, and the lease on our B Street and Congress building site in Boston was expiring, my desire at that time was to sail to the farthest corners of our world. I saw the entire planet as my classroom. Surely Borneo, where they were teaching orangutans sign language, would be a good place to start to learn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

So, with the brashness of youth, I convinced my wife, Carolyn, that once we launched our boat, we should sail there\u2014without even knowing exactly where Borneo was, except that it was far, far away from chilly Boston.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Of course, life got in the way. It always does. Our daughter was born. Hurricanes loomed. Boats sank and others were refloated. Taxes needed to be paid. More shore jobs were offered than I had the energy to turn down. And I\u2019m slow\u2014slow on all levels. But I\u2019m also tenacious, and I clutch my dreams fiercely. Thus, 26 years later, in 2001, I tossed my anchor in the muddy Kumai River across from a sleepy village on Borneo\u2019s south coast, with a lone barefoot man in a dugout canoe rowing toward us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

His name was Herman Herry Roustaman. He was small in stature but huge in personality. He exuded both charm and warmth, and his lust for living was contagious. \u201cWhat you need, Skipper\u2014you need diesel fuel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

I admitted I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo problem, Skip!\u201d he said as he grabbed my two fuel jugs, tossed them into his wobbly dug-out, and graciously cleared a place for me amid the bilge water and floating fish guts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

I grimaced as I sat down (while silently cursing myself for going commando that day).<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

We chatted. I immediately liked him. He was wildly enthusiastic. His grandiose dream was to lure away the local loggers (and thus stop their habitat destruction) with renewable and sustainable profits from tourism. This was all well and good, but I thought that, perhaps, he should first organize the buying of a pair of shoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

He rowed me to a 55-gallon drum on the shore. It had some oily black fluid floating it in, along with what appeared to be some leaves and a dead rat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow many gallons would you like, Skip?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

I informed Herry that I could buy only clean, filtered diesel fuel. He frowned, thought about it a second, then whipped off his T-shirt, stretched its cotton fabric over his funnel, and poured away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

How can anyone not love such an entrepreneur?<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou like orangutans?\u201d Herry asked as he poured. \u201cI have friend with riverboat, and he likes to cook. We all go see orangutans?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Riverboat\" <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n A riverboat meets the Goodlanders at their ketch, Ganesh, to take them another 20 miles upriver to Camp Leakey.<\/span>\n Courtesy Gary M. Goodlander<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n

Actually, bits of this convoluted tale began in Africa at about the same time we were building our boat in Boston. In the early 1970s, the highly charismatic Louis Leakey, a British paleoanthropologist and archaeologist working in Kenya, took time out from digging up skulls from his African backyard to send three idealistic women into the world to save the great apes. You probably already know the life stories of two of those dynamic women. Dian Fossey (of Gorillas in the Mist <\/i>fame) studied gorillas in Rwanda until she was tragically killed by poachers in 1985. And Jane Goodall has won a number of prestigious international awards for her work with chimpanzees. However, few folks know the name Birut\u00e8 Galdikas. Why? Because Goodall and Fossey were forced to shake the Western money tree to fund their research, while Galdikas just nonchalantly climbed into a tree in Indonesia and started teaching orphaned baby orangutans how to build nests in order to survive in the wild.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t play the \u00adbig-\u00admoney fundraising game. She quietly went her own way, did her own thing, and never kowtowed to \u201cThe Man\u201d; she let it all hang out from atop lofty, swaying trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Borneo <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n Their travel takes them past a typical Borneo village.<\/span>\n Courtesy Gary M. Goodlander<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n

In order to understand the lifelong dedication of Galdikas, you have to understand orangutans. They live to be more than 50 years old. Their young are entirely dependent on their mothers; the fathers play no role in their upbringing. Up until the age of four, they don\u2019t even let go of their mothers. By seven, if they\u2019ve learned their lessons well, they\u2019ll begin to play farther and farther from their mother, until one day\u2014they\u2019re gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

They\u2019ve graduated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

How does Galdikas find her wards? What are some common reasons orangutans are orphaned? For some, it\u2019s due to intentionally set or accidental forest fires. Mothers are killed by loggers, or some by palm-oil farmers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Galdikas\u2019 goal wasn\u2019t to take care of orphaned orangutans\u2014it was exactly the opposite. It was to truly mother and mentor them, to teach the babies how to be themselves and to learn the skills needed to survive in the wild. For \u00adexample, orangutans build a new nest in a new location each day. Thus, nest building is a mandatory, life-enabling skill. Galdikas has built thousands of nests over the years for the edification of hundreds of freedom-aspiring orangutans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

To say this is labor-intensive is a huge understatement. The doctor is nothing if not resolute. She has literally hung in there despite the fact that male orangutans are eight times stronger than their human counterparts, and she often must work with them far off the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

No scientist before or since has attempted such a thing for such a sustained period of time, let alone been responsible for 250 clueless baby orangutans returning to the wild as budding adults.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

It was into this strange world that we arrived in 2001 with our new buddy-for-life and river-guide-forever Herry at our side. The moment we stepped onto the dock at Camp Leakey, the Orangutan Foundation International\u2019s rehabilitation center founded by Galdikas, we were greeted by a friendly female orangutan making weird gang-member signs at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Yes, I\u2019d finally met Princess, who wasn\u2019t merely still alive but in the prime of life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Herry watched her intently, then informed me. \u201cShe\u2019s bored and wants to play. Actually, she\u2019d prefer a snack first. Bananas and milk, perhaps?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe I\u2019m in the presence of, well, magazine royalty,\u201d I laughed. Then I added, \u201cWhere\u2019s the hot doctor?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cDr. Birut\u00e8 is\u2026\u201d Herry said as he pointed a finger to the sky and the dense forest canopy above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Sure, we could interview her, but only if we could find her. And finding the busy doctor in a rainforest is akin to searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack, assuming the haystack is hundreds of feet tall, thousands of hectares wide, and made of hardwood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Part of the reason that Galdikas the scientist is so elusive is because the National Geographic<\/i> article in question helped to spark a giant controversy among linguists over what exactly animal- to-human \u201cspeech\u201d and \u201ccommunication\u201d is. More than one linguist accused her interactions with orangutans as overstepping her scientific bounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Back in Borneo, Galdikas didn\u2019t climb out of the trees long enough to reply. After all, why bother when she was riveted by her swaying subjects, not the nitpicking greater scientific community.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Luckily, nobody told Princess of the controversy, and she was able to maintain her sunny disposition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

We spent the ensuing days playing with Princess and the other orangutans, and we met many of the Dayak park rangers, most of whom were just a generation or two away from their headhunting ancestors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Skulls\" <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n Displays at Camp Leakey include a comparison of an \u00adorangutan and human head.<\/span>\n Courtesy Gary M. Goodlander<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n

We even met Barry the Gibbon, a small ape that looked more like a monkey without a tail than a great ape. He moves through the dense jungle so fast that you can\u2019t see him, only where he\u2019s been by the shaking of the vegetation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

We were absolutely riveted by the entire otherworldly scene in 2001, but our weather window across the Indian Ocean was opening up. As we departed, never having managed to meet Galdikas, we vowed to return to Borneo ASAP\u2014which turned out to be 18 years later, in 2019, in the midst of our latest circumnavigation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Now, it is always tricky going back to a cruising \u00addestination that has touched your heart because you\u2019re almost guaranteed to be \u00addisappointed. But not this time, not for us. Though we\u2019d heard our beloved Princess has passed, if anything, our second visit was better than the first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Kumai is now a city of 50,000, not a village of 400. Herry not only owns a highly successful regionwide tour agency, but he is also head of the Green Team, a group of environmentally concerned local river and forest guides who chip in their own pennies to buy buffer parcels of land between the orangutans and the palm-oil plantations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

And yes, Herry finally has a pair of shoes. Even better, his hippielike equation suggesting ecology plus orangutans equals wealth is finally coming true for thousands of Indonesians. Illegal logging is way, way down, and the big surging industry in Borneo that is now doing all the hiring is tourism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\"Borneo\" <\/div>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n
\n Even in Borneo, people like their selfies. Carolyn stops for one with a shopkeeper.<\/span>\n Courtesy Gary M. Goodlander<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t <\/figcaption>\n <\/section>\n\t\t\n\n\n\n

Regardless, getting to Camp Leakey is still a \u00adchallenge. First, we putt-putted Ganesh<\/i>, our 43-foot Wauquiez ketch, 20 miles up the Kumai River. We took pains to anchor well because the reversing currents are strong and the occasional squalls fierce. Then we engaged an around-the-clock guard to sit in the cockpit, with the boat locked and alarmed. We then transferred to a shoal-draft, narrower vessel in which we motored an additional 20 miles up the muddy Sekonyer tributary, until the dense jungle vegetation leaning in from both banks began to slow our progress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

As the jungle closed in on us, proboscis monkeys tittered at our foolishness. Owls thought we were a hoot. Monitor lizards\u2014all 7 feet of them\u2014slithered on the riverbank mere feet away. Poisonous sea snakes poked up their heads with interest. Oriental pied hornbills \u00adfluttered. Stork-bill \u00adkingfishers flew up. And mighty trees shook alarmingly in the distance, a promise of huge beasts to come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Ah, Borneo! You can\u2019t get more primitive here on Earth without a time machine. Shortly after our third crocodile sighting, we came to a familiar dock. It had barely changed in the intervening 18 years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

I was securing our forward spring line as Princess\u2019 son, Percy, approached. He\u2019s 16 now, and like teenagers everywhere, perhaps a bit wary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

We\u2019d never met.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cI used to know your mother back in the day,\u201d I said, standing stock still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

While I dearly love animals, I\u2019m also a human who has survived thus far because I never forget that a wild animal is a wild animal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Percy approached. I stood my ground and forced myself not to smile. A show of teeth indicates a desire to fight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Carolyn was more cautious. She stepped back on the boat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cCareful,\u201d she hissed to me. \u201cDon\u2019t grin, don\u2019t establish eye contact, don\u2019t act aggressive!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Ah, the tricky social situations you find yourself in while world cruising!<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Once Percy got our \u00admeasure, however, there was no problem, other than his openly coveting Carolyn\u2019s iPhone. He even lazily guided us into the reception area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

I couldn\u2019t help but be proud that we were meeting an entirely new generation of orangutans this circumnavigation\u2014and that in primitive Borneo, the more things change, the more they stay the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n

Cap\u2019n Fatty and Carolyn Goodlander are now anchored back in their beloved Singapore, aboard their ketch, <\/i>Ganesh, swinging through the Asian skyscrapers.<\/i><\/p>\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Goodlanders revisit the island of Borneo and an orangutan rehabilitation center.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":30413,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"BS_author_type":"BS_author_is_guest","BS_guest_author_name":"Cap'n Fatty Goodlander","BS_guest_author_url":"","hydra_display_date":"20200319","hydra_display_updated":false,"_yoast_wpseo_primary_category":"162","_yoast_wpseo_metadesc":"The Goodlanders revisit an Indonesian village on the island of Borneo and Camp Leakey, an orangutan rehabilitation center.","_yoast_wpseo_title":"","_yoast_wpseo_meta-robots-noindex":"","arc_story_id":"BBAKINKKBVAGPOPDKLJEIVWJW4","arc_website_url":"story\/destinations\/two-cover-girls-of-borneo\/","custom_permalink":"story\/destinations\/two-cover-girls-of-borneo\/","arc_subtype":"right-sidebar","arc_exclude_from_feeds":false,"sponsored":false,"sponsored_label":"Sponsored Content","sponsored_display_label":false,"sponsored_image":0,"post_right_rail":true,"post_right_rail_ad_1":true,"post_right_rail_ad_2":true,"post_right_rail_ad_3":false,"post_right_rail_ad_4":false,"post_right_rail_recirc":true,"fixed_anchor_ad":true,"post_top_ad":true,"post_off_ramp":true,"post_taboola":false,"labels":false,"apple_news_api_created_at":"","apple_news_api_id":"","apple_news_api_modified_at":"","apple_news_api_revision":"","apple_news_api_share_url":"","apple_news_coverimage":0,"apple_news_coverimage_caption":"","apple_news_is_hidden":false,"apple_news_is_paid":false,"apple_news_is_preview":false,"apple_news_is_sponsored":false,"apple_news_maturity_rating":"","apple_news_metadata":"\"\"","apple_news_pullquote":"","apple_news_pullquote_position":"","apple_news_slug":"","apple_news_sections":"\"\"","apple_news_suppress_video_url":false,"apple_news_use_image_component":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[162],"tags":[1357,1171,199,1245],"acf":[],"apple_news_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/44869"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=44869"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/44869\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/30413"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=44869"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=44869"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cruisingworld.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=44869"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}