Remus
and I embarked from Changi jetty at 3.30pm in the
face of an impending thunderstorm. Moving the
equipment down AND across the rocking bumboats was no
small feat but there were all these kind souls who
were so keen to lend a helping hand. Most got an
instinctual shock when they realized that the bags
were MUCH heavier than they looked. (Especially the
humble-looking plastic bag containing the two
Losmandy counterweights.) Size can be so deceiving in
such matters. The equipment had barely warmed their
spots when out burst a heavy downpour. The sea became
choppy and the brave little boat pushed onwards,
determined to ride the waves that were half its total
height. Motion sickness tormented the eight of us on
board for the next hour. Thankfully by the time we
reached Tanjung Pengelih, the storm had past and the
overcast sky was breaking over the east side. Sixty
kilogrammes of equipment posed quite a challenge on
horizontal land. We now had to lift all the equipment
onto the Pengelih jetty which was about two metres up
from bumboat level.
We
made it through the Malaysian customs albeit the
curious questions and looks from the customs
officials. They thought we might be Japanese
tourists. Apparently, a group of them had been there
not too long ago for the very same reasons. The rest
of the trip was a breeze after we loaded into a
waiting cab. We hit our site at about 5pm and began
setting up camp on the sandy beach some twenty metres
away from the sea. The sky wasn't promising but we
weren't about to delay any moments for
astrophotography once the clouds break for a second.
By 7.30pm, we were ready for a good night ahead.
In
the semi-darkness of Batu Layar, it was rather
difficult to see much beyond fifty metres. Against
the contrasting light-coloured sand, I vaguely
discerned two dark figures approaching our camp.
Military men. *Uh oh.* The two of us and one Losmandy
G11 coupled with a scope aren't exactly their version
of a "typical camper". We had encountered
the military on our previous trips there. However, in
previous trips there were more than two of us. A
powerful beam of light shone our way, temporarily
blinding us, scanning the camp perimeter, and finally
finding a grip on the G-11.
The two men spoke in
Malay, We played dumb in that we did not understand
any language other than English. It was risky
business to speak in their tongue. Something I learnt from my travel
experiences. Safer to act like
the confused tourist. They demanded passports, and
began their round of interrogation. While I reasoned
with myself that this should be a routine thing
(should be??), I was getting edgy. This spot on the
beach was still considered public area where most
people camped during the weekends. I was starting to
feel like an illegal alien. Remus fielded most of
their questions.
It
wasn't long before four more black figures surrounded
us. It still freaks me out a little, the way they
move around you without the slightest sound. I envy
their night vision. They see things before they even
appear. Eerie yet professional. Questions poured in.
We kinda lied that we were on a university project to
photograph the stars and that our equipment was on
loan from the university. Any questions regarding
cost of equipment were either highly distorted (We
got a hundred-dollar Contax camera with Zeiss Sonnar
lens from the night market..) or shrugged off and
deflected to the university clause. As the military
milled around our camp, the clouds chose this
opportune moment to break and flash the whole stretch
of Milky Way from Scorpius to Cygnus at us. DANG! And
the sky remained clear for as long as the military
was there.
When
they decided to move off in search of other targets,
we smashed world record to get into photographic
mode. The haze was coming in, so we took a chance at
shooting whatever was clear for the few moments. (Out
of the ten shots, only two pictures barely survived
being affected by the hazy conditions.) I was pretty
sure astrophotography might be over for the rest of
the night. We still had high hopes for prime focus
later at about 3am. We were also hoping it would be
patrol rest time by then. Clouds, rain, patrols,
biting insects, and now we had another concern: The
tide was steadily moving inland. Backup plan: Take as
many more shots as we can and then shift camp when
the tide became too close for comfort. The sea was
now some five metres away from the G-11.
Occasionally,
the military would pass our campsite as they
continued on their patrol. One of them was curious
enough to hang around. He is Lance Corporal Azhari
who has been in the military for the past nine years.
Through him, we learnt more about their patrol
rounds. They were on the lookout for illegal
immigrants coming in via the South China Sea. The
patrol units move around the many states in Malaysia
every two months. I was beginning to understand why
we were always in the military's suspicions: They
never stayed long enough to get use to the sight of
us astronomers in their patrol areas. Throughout,
Azhari was rather accommodating. He also assured us
that the tide was about to recede for the night.
He
was in the middle of recounting part of his earlier
life in Singapore when suddenly, he halted in
mid-sentence. His body went from relaxed to tensed
for action. His senses had picked up something from
the bush area behind our camp. I kept still as I
followed his line of sight. Remus was in the tent
preparing for prime focus photography I think. I'm
not sure if he caught whiff of the impending
situation. I saw nothing but darkness, bushes and
trees. In the split-second that my attention was
diverted from Azhari to the trees, he had deftly and
oh-so-quietly moved several metres away from the
exposed beach to behind the tent. I found myself
stunned by his nimble agility and silent moves. There
and then, two powerful beams lashed out at us. Seven
silent dark figures were headed our way. From the
way, Azhari moved I was almost sure we were about to
be set upon by enemy forces. (This is beginning to
sound too exciting to be a "normal" night
out to see the stars.)
I
ventured a cautious "Hello?". I had hoped
that maybe if they heard a different accent, they
would be friendlier? *Sheesh* I heaved such a sigh of
relief when Azhari stood up to greet the newcomers.
It turned out to be his commanding officer and his
private squadron. More questions ensued although
Azhari tried to sum the general picture for his boss.
My heart skipped a beat when the officer asked to see
our legal documents to camp here. My patience was
beginning to wear thin but I held fast at the thought
of possibly spending the weekend in the local jail. I
firmly but politely corrected him that since this was
a public area for holiday-makers to camp, so why
would we need legal documents. He replied that only
Malaysians were allowed to camp there. Now, I was
really beginning to get irritated by the apparent
harassment. I caught Azhari's words to his officer in
Malay about leaving us alone, as there were some
other campers some 200 metres further down. That was
about when the officer asked us in a smattering of
gruff English tones if he was disturbing us.
"Oh, no, no! It's okay." Remus and I
chorused. (I have never been more harassed in my
life. Although I heard of a previous encounter when
the military did body searches.) Satisfied with what
he saw, the officer and his men left.
1am,
and being on constant lookout for haze, aeroplane
light pollution and dark figures was draining. I was
taking down notes for our tenth astro shot when I
caught sight of a red prick of laser light dancing
around me and the tent. "Huh? Red light?"
My eyes trailed the errant red point. "Who's
playing with a laser pointer, man?" I blurted
out. It was at that point that I realized that Remus
had froze his position and was deathly still. I
mirrored his actions not daring to breathe.
"What?! What?!!" I whispered harshly.
"Shit!" came Remus' reply as I watch his
eyes furtively scan the area behind me. "Shit!!
It's a laser from a rifle!"
O-h--m-y--g-o-d.
Remus had gone through two years of army training so
I figured he probably knew what he was talking about.
I only know rifle means I could be getting closer to
heaven than I am currently prepared for. I watched
the menacing red light as it trailed a path on the
tent, along the G-11, onto Remus and back again. In
between the times I could not see the red light, I
had a pretty good feeling it was trained somewhere on
the back of my head and along my spine. The seconds
seem to stretch and neither of us moved. "Where
is it coming from?!" A pretty stupid question,
but I would still like to know, especially since I'm
not even facing my potential Grim Reaper. "You
can't trace the light path of a laser point."
Remus reminded me. I admired his perchance for
logical explanations in the face of impending death. When the light was gone, I
figured I have enough material to write an account
when I get home which I was so looking forward to
right there and then.
The
rest of the night, I kept lying low in the tent. We
took turns to keep watch but it was getting
exhausting. Azhari returned and offered to keep watch
while we rested. (I don't think we're about trust
him.) Sleep was intermittent as at any moment of
consciousness we scanned the sky and the ground for
"stars". ("Star" became an
impromptu code between Remus and I to alert each
other to the presence of the dark ones.) It seemed
like such a long time to daybreak, but it finally
dawned as the clouds parted to reveal clear blue
skies. A huge relief to me. We packed up and the
hired taxi arrived at 6.45am to fetch us to the
jetty. So ends another normal trip out to see the
stars. We survived. This could be my most
traumatizing trip ever to Batu Layar. Personally, I
don't think I'll be returning to this place again to
stargaze unless I'm in BIG group.
A
true account by Lin .13th September 1999, Monday.
