Borneo: Fly Fishing the Elusive Red Kaloi

THE CRIMSON JUGGERNAUTS OF BORNEO:

Fly Fishing for the Elusive Red Kaloi

Born and bred in Singapore, I am immensely fortunate to have a father who showed the family how amazing and important nature and wildlife is. His gutsy and free-spirited persona brought about this incredible adventurous and passionate approach to incorporate nature-based activities into our lives, and fishing is one of them. He is responsible for influencing and developing my undeniable love for it. There is something about fishing. I have always looked forward to hearing the incredible tales of fishermen and all the adventures in the wildest and most remote locations since I was a little boy.

By: MERVYN TAN

Through the years, as my methods of fishing evolved, the life-changing moment was when I discovered fly fishing. It is as if I fell in love with fishing all over again, but with an inexplainable appreciation, respect, and admiration. The well-documented reference points and materials of fly fishing and its fisheries have always been widely inspired by the Western world, and understandably so. But there must be something worthy in the East, well, Southeast Asia to be more specific, since I come from that part of the world. Sure enough, there is.

“Distractions are aplenty, especially if you are a botanist or a wildlife conservationist”

In the fascinating world of freshwater species in tropical rainforests of Southeast Asia, the species richness is vastly wide-ranging and varying. Arguably, the two most popular fisheries are the snakehead (genus Channa) and the mahseer (genus Tor). But personally, my biggest obsession has been the hampala barb (genus Hampala), specifically Hampala macrolepidota, because it is the largest species within the genus.

Crossing of Paths

Within the region, hampala barbs have a fearsome reputation for crushing hooks, breaking lines and rods due to their hard-hitting, ferocious nature. Watching them violently hunt down fleeing baitfish in the rivers of the rainforests have been nothing short of spectacular.

Mainstream methods have always been to use artificial lures on either baitcasting or spinning setups, and the largest hampala ever recorded by the IGFA was well over 6kg (13.2lbs). Specimens over 4kg (8.81lbs) are hard to come by, due to habitat loss, pollution, and overfishing. Finding and catching them that big on a fly is certainly a tall order.

My dream finally came true during a jungle expedition in February 2020 when I first stepped foot in Kalimantan, Borneo, on a jungle expedition with Fajar Setyawan (operator of Spice Island Outfitters who primarily conducts remote fly fishing expeditions in Indonesia) and landed a specimen well over 5kg (11lbs) on an 8wt setup. It couldn’t have gone any better, and I was truly grateful and fortunate. I could finally close the chapter on the hampala.

During the same expedition, I had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of another formidable yet somewhat mysterious species, the red kaloi, Osphronemus septemfaciatus. The red kaloi was brought to our group’s attention by Fajar prior to the expedition. You see, just right before the trip, the first ever red kaloi specimen caught on fly, well over 7kg (15.4lbs), was successfully landed by Minggaang Lejau, a self-taught local fly angler and guide, but more importantly, a Dayak (indigenous people in the island of Borneo) who comes from the direct bloodline of the chief family of Long Tuyoq, one of the villages in the upper reaches of the Mahakam River, East Kalimantan.

I have to say, at that time, I was laser-focused on finding that elusive massive hampala and anything- and everything else to me was a distraction. I witnessed my buddy, Lao Tan, lose two large male kaloi after days of hard work.

His 16lb tippet snapped effortlessly when both fish went straight into the underwater structures of fallen trees and branches. No males were landed; only the females, which are significantly smaller in size, and far less impressive morphologically. Needless to say, a new obsession was born.

The Crimson Juggernauts of Borneo

Come January 2023, following over three years of wait, the time had finally come to have a proper shot at the red kaloi. The calls of the Müller’s gibbon (Hylobates muelleri) during first light evoked nostalgia of the previous expeditions, with a familiar scenery of massive Neram trees (Dipterocarpus oblongifolius), many of them over a few hundred years old, flanking the sides of the rivers, leaning over towards the center with the primary objective to facilitate dispersal of fruits, which are part of the diet of various fish species, including the mahseer and the red kaloi. Each and every day was an opportunity to be treated to a spectacle of various species of hornbills taking flights from canopy to canopy. Distractions are aplenty, especially if you are a botanist or a wildlife conservationist.

The strong jaws are lined with tiny teeth that give them a solid grip

I happened to be both, and the struggle was real. That said, I was (am still) totally fascinated and obsessed with the red kaloi as a fly angler. Only scientifically discovered and described as late as 1992 by the renowned American ichthyologist, Dr. Tyson Royal Roberts, the red kaloi is endemic to the island of Borneo, coshared by three countries - Malaysia, Brunei Darussalam and Indonesia.

The red kaloi belongs to the gourami family, Osphronemidae, and is one of the four species of giant gourami in Southeast Asia. And since ‘kaloi’is a local name for gourami in general, we know that they are omnivorous, obligate air-breathers.

That’s pretty much all we could gather from the Internet. Thankfully, the Dayaks are very familiar with the red kaloi, and they quickly became a great resource. After all, this is their home, their backyard.

“Since you are constantly drifting, the landscape is ever-changing”

We know the red kaloi primarily feed on vegetative plant parts such as flowers, fruits and leaves, especially during mass flowering season at the start of every year, but would not reject small fish, frogs, lizards and insects when they come across one.

Whilst the common gourami (O. goramy), which are relatively widespread throughout the Southeast Asia region, are almost always dull grey or brown in colour, the red kaloi are their flamboyant cousins if you like, vibrantly exhibiting a burst of fiery colours, ranging from peach to plum hues across its trunk, dappled with copper mottling bands, hence its Latin name - Osphronemus septemfaciatus (Osphronemus, meaning olfactory, referring to its labyrinth organ, an organ of smell; and septem, seven, faciatus, striped or banded, referring to the seven-barred colour pattern).

It is as if they are made to blend in with the ever-flowing tannin-coloured water of the rivers and freshwater swamps of the Bornean jungle.

Mature males boast an impressive set of morphological features that differentiate them from the females. First, they develop a huge hump (known as nuchal hump) on their heads as they mature, akin to the popularity-gaining bumphead parrotfish. Second, their lower jaws elongate and broaden dramatically.

These two morphological enhancements, along with the ability to grow exponentially bigger and stronger than the females, make them far more superior.

Both males and females have distinctive hyper-elongated ventral fins for steering and balance, which explains why they have the ability to either sit patiently while waiting for a fruit or an insect to drop despite the flow of the river, or inspect a potential prey, going back and forth, covering all angles. They are highly inquisitive and rely on sounds and vibrations most of the time, given the limited visibility of the water whenever it rains.

The strong jaws are lined with tiny teeth that give them a solid grip on a fruit or an escaping fish or bug. The big, powerful tail is responsible for that brutish force. Built like an absolute tank, these ray-finned fish have stout, rough bodies that are covered with a bony armour of spines all over, making them extremely hardy and nasty. I call them the Crimson Juggernauts of Borneo.

Against All Odds

There is a learning curve in everything and fly fishing for the red kaloi is no different. However, this is a real steep one. First, it is the weather. The entire island of Borneo is geographically located in the equatorial zone, also known as the ’ever-wet zone’, receiving huge amounts of rain all year round.

And when it rains in Borneo, it is no joke. In my time there, I have witnessed the rivers rise up to six to ten meters high, making them extremely dangerous and unfishable. And it takes time for the high, violent waters to recede - typically 1 to 3 days, provided it stays dry during this period. Problem is, it usually does not. There is always a high likelihood of rain occurring multiple times a day, and it is likely to continue over the next few consecutive days, weeks even. The speed of flow of the river, the water levels, and the water clarity are important elements that have a direct correlation to finding the elusive red kaloi. When the water levels are high due to the occurrence of rain (could even be from upstream), it becomes exponentially harder to locate the fish with more real estate to cover, lower visibility (for both you and the fish) and their usual feeding patterns changed. Higher water levels enable the red kaloi to get access to overhanging leaves from vines and trees that would be otherwise unreachable during low or normal water levels. There have been several occasions when we witnessed the red kaloi feeding on these leaves, tugging them from beneath in the high, turbid waters, which could also present a rare opportunity to have a shot by placing your fly at them.

Second would be the challenging nature of the rainforest. As your boat drifts down the river, you are doing many things at the same time. You have to maintain a good sense of balance and stability on these narrow wooden boats while looking out for slower pockets of the rivers with structures, preferably where there are white-looking bubbles swirling or amassing. These are what we call ‘food collection points’ (again, the red kaloi do work smart).

Since you are constantly drifting, the landscape is ever-changing, as you attempt to avoid overhanging vines and canopy of trees when you cast. High temperatures and humidity mean wounds can potentially turn septic.

“The rivers are filled with layers and layers of underwater structures from fallen trees and branches”

Infection sets in quickly and can become a problem – especially if bites and wounds, which are inevitable in such hostile environments, are not treated properly. Flies will start to land on these wounds and they become pus-filled and painful. I was feverish towards the last few days of the expedition and felt rather sick.

I pushed on despite all that but had to end the expedition on the 18th day due to the relentless rain.

Lastly, it is everything about the red kaloi. The bulls can grow real big. A Dayak friend told me the village record was a whopping 18kg specimen caught on a spear. The largest ever recorded was 21kg. Why is that a problem, you ask? Well, you are in their fortresses.

“Hooks were mangled and opened. Just total chaos!”

The rivers are filled with layers and layers of underwater structures from fallen trees and branches - the exact places they hunt and nest.

What’s more? These highly territorial brutes are strong, dirty fighters at their core, and are extremely motivated to go for the snags. If you cannot stop the fish, you end up getting buried. They are also highly intelligent. They are also known to take a long time to inspect a fly, some up to 8 to 10 seconds long.

They could approach your fly slow, take a pause and inspect, and retreat, and you think it is over, and when you think the opportunity is gone, it comes right back and at the fly, oftentimes in the most subtle of takes. It is a true test of patience and understanding, especially when you come across a red kaloi that is so careful.

One wrong move, you lose. And that particular shot could be your third or fourth day without a fish, with all that pressure, frustration and anxiety coming all at once.

Choice of Gear, How to Work Them & Results

Whilst poppers work (slow pop, with occasional pauses), I have had the best results with hopper fly patterns. You basically fly fish the red kaloi like fly fishing a trout with a dry fly.

The only difference here is that your flies are way bigger (and don’t worry about your flies being too big; I used up to 3/0 hooks and most of the flies ended up completely in the mouth of the red kaloi).

And because we were told by the Dayaks that one of the favourite treats of the red kaloi are the big, black jungle cockroaches, Minggaang developed what we call the ‘BBC’, which stands for ‘Big Black Cock-roach’.

To catch the attention of the red kaloi and mimic a large insect falling and plopping on the surface of the water, you want to ‘slap’ your fly as hard as you can each time you cast. And once your fly is in position, you do not want to move your hopper fly or ‘BBC’, except to collect the slack line as your boat continues to drift.

Fly fishing and drifting down the rivers engulfed by the tight, overhanging canopy of the rainforest, a shorter ‘jungle’ rod is beneficial. I went with the discontinued 7’11” Sage Bass II 390gr Peacock as my heaviest gun, and the lighter alternative of the Sage Bass II 330gr Largemouth.

Whilst the reels don’t quite matter since you cannot allow much “giving” during a battle with a red kaloi, I went with a 10 wt Abel Super Series (I like fail-proof reels, especially when you are a long way from home) loaded with Scientific Anglers’ 10wt Jungle Titan for maximum casting efficiency in the 30 to 60 ft range.

Tippet/leader wise, I went heavy - 60lbs, 72lbs and 100lbs of fluorocarbon, yeah no joke. Thankfully, the red kaloi are seemingly not leader-shy. I landed a total of 7 bulls in my expedition, smallest being over 3kg and the largest at about 8kg. I have lost monsters that I simply could not stop. One of them broke my 390gr Peacock stick with a 72lbs tippet when I tried stopping it from burying me. I also suffered a few occasions when my 60lbs tippet snapped clean. Hooks were mangled and opened. Just total chaos!

The bottom line - there should not be any weakness in your gear. Rods need to have a strong backbone that lifts, tippets need to be heavy to withstand the high tension and tolerate the abuse, hooks need to be extra-strong (thick, big game, saltwater grade). You also want to cater enough time to buffer off rainy days. The odds of having good weather would be about 1:3 or 1:4 e.g. 3 days with more or less no rain in a 10-day trip.

My 21-day expedition was cut short to 18 due to the weather and the amount of wound infections I received. Within that period, I experienced 5 days of nice, dry and hot weather, but even with somewhat perfect conditions during those highly limiting ‘good days’, I did not catch kaloi on each of those days. You could say it’s a-fish-of-a-thousand-casts. You would also come across moments when you thought you had solved the puzzle, only to be left with more questions over the next few days that follow.

These are my biggest takeaways from the expedition, which happen to align with my mantra in fly fishing: Be open to new ideas and be flexible; always listen, especially to the locals, and adapt to changes; stay resiliant, have faith in yourself and never be afraid of hard work; and lastly, be prepared to grab it when the opportunities present themselves.

Conclusion

Borneo, being the second oldest rainforest (between 130 to 140 million years old), holds many secrets, and the discovery of this fishery is certainly one of them.

For fly anglers who are looking for something truly exceptional in so many ways, the red kaloi may be that fish. But if you ever decide to pursue the red kaloi, make sure you are able to lay everything on the line in search for them. The rain, the jungle, the hundreds and thousands of casts each day when you are able to head out to get a shot, the misses, the failures, the mistakes - don’t bother unless you are totally obsessed over the red kaloi. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!