Macaques playing on the pier as visitors arrive on Kembang Island. (JG Photo/Tash Roslin)

Monkeying Around in Kalimantan

Don’t hide anything edible in your pockets or your bags, leave all the bananas in front of the boat, and just sit still,” our boatman says, suddenly looking serious. “Otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.”

All four of us passengers continue talking as our klotok , a narrow, wooden, motor-propelled boat, slices through the muddy waters of the Barito River in South Kalimantan. We pass other klotoks and sampans , a similar style of boat with oars instead of a motor, coming from the opposite direction.

At a width of more than three kilometers near its mouth, Barito River is Indonesia’s broadest river. And Rizal, our boatman and guide, is navigating us toward the river’s delta, in the middle of which lies Kembang Island.

The island covers only 60 hectares, and it is crowded with long-tailed macaques.

About 20 minutes earlier we bought a bunch of bananas in preparation for our visit, bargaining over the price with Rizal’s help, at the busy Kuin Harbor in central Banjarmasin, South Kalimantan’s capital. We are now approaching the pier on Kembang Island. From the distance we can already see agile, grayish objects scuttling about.

Intently yet impatiently these monkeys survey the horizon, waiting for the sight of approaching boats. As soon as a boat appears — especially one like ours, loaded with bananas or oranges — the monkeys jump into the water with loud splashes and frenetic screams. They don’t mind getting their carefully groomed fur wet when free food is so plentiful and near.

Then, like Olympic swimmers, these monkeys swim to our boat. They climb on board and to the awe — and trepidation — of the passengers, all hell breaks loose. If you’ve ever wondered where the expression to “go ape” came from, this is your answer.

Years of practice have made these macaques remarkably efficient at ransacking the klotoks. By the time we reach the pier, they have plundered the boat of all its edible content and brought their booty ashore. The pandemonium lasts only a minute or two, rendering the experience even more sensational.

Next comes the fighting among themselves as to who gets how much. The adult macaques are not inclined to share, and can be very aggressive toward the younger ones, who often rise up wet from the water only to be deprived of their spoils once the big shots arrive.

Every day curious tourists take the trip here on boats like Rizal’s. However, the island is also a popular site for prayer and pilgrimage among the local Chinese population and, to a lesser extent, the nearby indigenous people. On certain auspicious dates of the year, the local Chinese flock to the island. The name “Kembang,” meaning “flowers” in Indonesian, comes from the flowers that are often scattered on the shores by pilgrims alighting here.

Two white statues of the monkey god Hanoman stand on a porcelain table under a basic shelter used as altar for prayer. The statues are positioned so they almost look like a mirror image of each other, although the god on the left side is missing its left arm.

Believers worship the statues and pray for prosperity. Those who feel they have been blessed often return later to express their gratitude, and to pray again for a prosperous life. Unprepared visitors are also welcome to pray, should they have the sudden urge to do so.

Nobody lives on the island permanently, but the island’s caretaker is almost always around, and says he is “happy to guide you and direct your prayers.”

The monkeys, meanwhile, are more than willing to devour whatever offerings you leave for the island, particularly any fruits and nuts.

Their ferocity where food is concerned aside, these monkeys are friendly creatures. They don’t often bite or steal — though it is best to avoid startling them with sudden movements. And they seem to have a mutual understanding with the food sellers on the island not to take their goods.

Some of the macaques, mostly the younger ones, will even let you stroke them gently if you approach slowly.

But caution is advised. “Don’t get too close to that one,” warns Rizal, who has more than 20 years of experience with these macaques. His wooden stick is pointed at a large macaque with a cleft upper lip walking back and forth right in front of me. “He’s one of the oldest and most ferocious monkeys here. He won’t need a reason to suddenly jump on you.”

I retreat several steps, and the macaque, perhaps losing interest, yawns twice — or maybe he just wants to show me his menacing teeth. Then to my relief he turns his back on me, marching off toward the center of the island.

Later in the day Rizal steers the klotok over to the lively floating market where business takes place on the wide river. People slurp on soto banjar (a local soup) and sip coffee on the bobbing vessels. Money and goods change hands as the boats bump against each other, and the noisy clucking of the engines is drowned out only by the sound of voices haggling over fresh produce or a sachet of detergent.

The Barito River and Banjarmasin may be best known for this floating market, but once you have visited the macaques on Kembang Island, the human activity pales in comparison to the energetic monkeys.

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