Candles illuminate the long wooden table. Figures surround it, perched on benches, eager to tuck into the huge wild boar head that dominates the table. Men wear loin cloths, their blowpipes and parangs propped up in the corner, and the women look after the babies wrapped in cloth over their shoulders. This was not the situation the Kayak Borneo team had envisioned when they decided to explore an unpaddled river deep in the heart of the Borneo Jungle.

Days earlier, we meet a New Zealand helicopter pilot working for a logging company in Sarawak, Malaysia. We have been kayaking world class whitewater in Borneo for the past six weeks and now want to step up the challenge, leaving the predictable logging roads for another level of adventure. The pilot has been flying in Borneo for twenty years, travelling over most of the rivers that we are interested to explore. He points out on our 1970s pilotage chart all the rapids that he has seen from his helicopter. One of these rivers flows through the Mulu National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and an island of primary jungle in a sea of deforestation.

With the river identified, our challenge now is finding a way to get there. So far, rivers have either been accessed along logging roads or by using the only train in Borneo, a relic of the British colonial rule. With the little information we have, a foolproof plan is hatched to drive as close to the river as possible, hitch-hike upstream on trade boats and… hope for the best. We know this mission is full of unknowns but that is why we came to Borneo—adventure by the bucket load.

We arrive at the end of the road, a sleepy port town, a hub of trade for the upper reaches of the drainage where many Malaysians still live in traditional long houses. We ask around and eventually find a man called Hamilton. He lives in a long house just outside the Mulu National Park and offers to guide us there so that we can get a boat upstream. We drive our 4 x 4 through increasingly difficult terrain, along deserted tracks once used intensively by loggers. It is clear while speaking to Hamilton that the extensive logging across Malaysia has caused huge problems for the traditional people. He explains;

“The officials gave our village chief money to allow logging to take place on our land. The rest of the village protested when they heard but it was too late; our land was already destroyed”.

When we arrive at the village, the problems are instantly clear. The village is sitting in a metre of water caused by the increasing number of flashfloods, whereas previously the trees would have slowed down the run-off rate. We enter Hamilton’s house and drink bottled water. The village’s water supply has silted up from increased soil erosion, meaning they either drink bottled water or rain water from their corrugated roofs. Over dinner, Hamilton speaks emotionally about a loss of spiritual connection with their lands. We hear that hunting is more difficult, vegetation that once provided food and medicine has vanished. “It is increasingly difficult to maintain our traditional subsistence lifestyle”.

The next day, Hamilton organises a long boat to take us up into the Mulu National Park. With a thankful stroke of luck, we then happen to find the only jeep in the park. This takes us deep into the jungle, so that we arrive at our river access point at nightfall. Tired, we string our hammocks in anticipation of the first day on the river.