Waking up in the jungle is a magical experience that starts with a crescendo of sound. Even before dawn, crickets whir, birds chatter, monkeys squabble, and geckos rustle through palm-thatched rooftops. But deep in the Bornean rainforest at Camp Leakey, my wake-up call was something far rarer: the booming, resonant long-call of a wild male orangutan, reverberating through the gaps of the wooden hut.
- Orangutan guide: species facts, diet and best places to see
- "My grandfather became an orangutan”: The people who believe family members turn into great apes
- Who was Biruté Galdikas? We explore the life of the primatologist – and reveal why she was known as one of the ‘Trimates’
I was in Kalimantan as a volunteer with Orangutan Foundation International, following Biruté Galdikas to her legendary research station in Tanjung Puting National Park.
As the morning rays began to break through the canopy, I hopped out of bed and followed the long timber boardwalk down towards the washing station. Feeling slightly nervous after talk of crocodile attacks around camp, I lifted the bucket of water out of the river and began brushing my teeth.
Sitting there at the water’s edge, surrounded by the towering rainforest, I noticed the rustling of branches across the river. Moments later, a fully-grown female orangutan emerged from the foliage and clambered down. Her shaggy coat of copper-orange hair caught the golden morning light, and her calm, gentle face looked directly across at me.
Looking into the eyes of a wild orangutan is humbling, and one can’t help but wonder about our own origins, which Galdikas had been studying for decades. But right then, I contemplated what this orangutan made of her modern-day human cousin staring open-mouthed, mid-brush, white toothpaste foaming at the lips, staring back at her.
- Filmmakers released a robotic orangutan into the Borneo rainforest. What it captured was astonishing
- "We have watched and waited for this moment." World-first footage shows orangutan using canopy bridge to cross a road in North Sumatra
- “I knew there was something going on.” Orangutans heard ‘gossiping’ in Borneo forest. Here’s what they’re saying
Just then, one of the local rangers came walking down the boardwalk and recognised the female as a camp regular. Noting the way she was pacing the bank, he concluded that it looked as if she wanted to cross. With no natural tree bridge for miles, we decided to lend a hand. The plan was to take two wooden canoes, paddle over, nudge the empty boat to her, and tow her across on a rope. Easy!
We jumped into the canoe and set off. More rustling in the treetops revealed the orangutan’s juvenile daughter, who came swinging down to settle safely onto her mother’s back, like a perfectly-fitting backpack. Together, they watched us approach with curiosity.
As we arrived at the bank, we pushed the spare canoe towards them. The mother orangutan immediately reached out with her long, powerful arms, and seconds later, she had climbed aboard. But before we managed to separate ourselves, she stretched out and grabbed our boat, too.
An orangutan’s grip is something else. Their hands are twice the size of ours and their feet grip just as easily – and they possess the strength of several humans! Steadying her own boat with her feet, her hands clamped tightly around our bow and she began pulling herself toward us.
I knew one thing for sure: if she boarded our canoe, we were guaranteed to capsize, and I was not ready for a wrestling match with an orangutan in crocodile territory. Looking over in a slight panic, I noticed her daughter dangling lazily from mom’s fur, seemingly unbothered by the surrounding chaos.
- There's an animal in the tropical forests of Borneo that breastfeeds its young for 6.5 years
- It’s not just humans who love a strong jawline...
Luckily, my ranger friend knew how to handle the situation. An experienced orangutan distractor, he let out an impressive array of whoops, yells, and arm-waving, causing her to loosen her grip. Quickly, I used our long wooden paddle to push her canoe clear.
As we sat safely back in our own boat, we quickly realized that our plan was a failure. Mom and daughter had no interest in crossing the river at all. Instead, mom dipped her long arms into the dark waters like oars and casually paddled herself downstream toward a bed of water plants. There, she began pulling up juicy roots, happily munching away and introducing her daughter to another item on the rainforest’s enormous orangutan menu.
Just then, the camp bell echoed across the river, signalling the start of another day at camp. Before we turned the boat around, I snapped a quick picture of the peaceful scene: a perfect reminder that nature doesn't need to be rescued, and is far more intelligent than we often give it credit for.
Top image: the mother orangutan and her baby in the canoe. Credit: Rowan Klaassen
Discover more wildlife stories from around the world:
