Natuna Archipelago

From a small boxed section in the Lonely Planet I first read of the existence of the Natuna Archipelago. It claimed tourism was virtually unheard of, the domain of only a few luxury cruise liners passing by. Lying between the Northwest coast of Borneo and Sumatra, it is actually a province of the Riau Islands. There are a lot of islands here, but the only one to handle commercial flights is Natuna Besar, of which Raini is the only port of entry. It’s possible to get here with Pelni, the main inter-island ferries throughout Indonesia, but they only come this way every other week. As luck would have it their timetable didn’t fit in with my schedule. With my two month visa on the verge of running out I couldn’t afford to wait for the cheaper option, I had to book a flight at the exorbitant price of £80 return from Pontianak, Kalimantan. It was only ever going to be a quick trip, due to the expiry of my visa, but I couldn't resist coming here. (Photo: Rocky bay north of Raini, with Pulau Senua in the background - Natuna Besar, Natuna Archipelago)

The airport is actually a military airbase, they kindly allow commercial access to the only landing strip in the islands. Construction of a new civilian airport is underway, but hopes aren’t high of it reaching completion any time soon. Until coming face to face with the numerous Polisi Militar you wouldn’t guess it’s an airbase. It’s tiny, glaringly painted, with a row of single storey buildings to handle the sporadic flow of arrivals and departures. With manicured lawns dotted with towering palm trees, under a blazing sun it smacks of being a tranquil tropical paradise. Unfortunately, I wasn’t met by pretty girls in hoola skirts, as soon as I stepped off the tarmac apron I was greeted by a PM, who invited me to follow him. It seemed obvious than an incoming tourist wasn’t an every day event. They were friendly enough, simply taking my name and passport number, checking I was actually a tourist. There were less than forty passengers, on a plane with a seating capacity of nearly two hundred. So there was no clamour for baggage, no argy-bargy for taxis, the sort of relaxed atmosphere you dream of on arrival at your tropical dream. (Photo: Striated rock formations, with Pulau Senua in the background - Natuna Besar, Natuna Archipelago)

Having tried to glean what information I could from the Internet, I arrived completely ignorant of anything other than the name of the Central Hotel, whose owner apparently spoke English. It was the easy option, a starting point. As often happens, booking into the most readily available place is simply a stopgap, giving you time to learn the lay of the land. Juli, the owner, proved really helpful, being extremely friendly and more than a touch generous with her time and good will. Her prices are comparable to the only other hotel recorded in outside sources. Neither is really budget accommodation, but they are the closest you’ll find to western standards. If you are that way inclined, you’d need to choose between the Central and the Natuna hotels. For convenience the Central is tops, they have internet and are only too pleased to help however possible. The Natuna is out of town a ways, without your own transport it could be a hassle. There is also a cluster of budget guesthouses in Raini, at less than £4 a night they’re a good option if you don’t mind very basic accommodation. (Photo: More striated rock formations, with Pulau Senua in the background (sorry for the repetition folks but they impressed me) - Natuna Besar, Natuna Archipelago)

People are praying for a tourist boom, yet most claim a lack of funds holds them back. People are taking the plunge though, the first accommodation with tourists in mind is nearing completion. Alif Stone Park, a wonderful place to visit in its own right, is located on a beautiful stretch of coast. The unexplained deposits of huge boulders lay higgledy-piggledy in a sandy bay, linked by inconspicuous bridges and walkways. Various theories exist as to how they got there, they’re certainly not locally sourced. I think they’re volcanic. Of a hard and course igneous rock, many are deeply scored, always from top to bottom. It’s hard to imagine normal weather patterns eroding them in this way. Does it seem plausible the striations were created by lava raining down on newly deposited volcanic rock? Anyway, they form a natural barrier to incoming waves, making for safe tranquil waters to play in. The water clarity is amazing, it begs to be dived into. You can also organise diving and snorkelling trips, or use their kayak to paddle peacefully around the coast. Eno and his family are hoping to have a number of rooms available to tourists this July. Check their website for details! (Photo: Alif Stone Park - Natuna Besar, Natuna Archipelago)

I’ve come across a phenomenon of being a solo traveller that I’ve not experienced before, or not to the same degree. With so few tourists visiting I’m a bit of an enigma, and people go out of their way to accommodate me. They find it hard to understand why I travel alone, as though it isn’t a choice to do so. From their behaviour they assume it’s a great hardship, that I could do with their help, if not their companionship. My awkwardness in speaking Bahasa Indonesia emphasises this, they imagine I can’t conquer the language barrier. However much I insist it’s not a problem they seem hell bent on helping. Blimey, my Indonesian is better now than it’s ever been, and I’ve always muddled through somehow. It is endearing in many ways, but it’s been very hard to maintain my independence. People won’t take no for an answer, and this stretches into the realms of causing offence or accepting their hospitality. I’d go as far as to say it’s severely curtailed my freedom, which seems ungrateful, but I’m not. Like never before I’ve no end of people vying for the chance to look after my interests. (Photo: Tanjung Lampa, the predominant headland, only sightly spoiled by the oilfield dock in the foreground - Selat Lampa, Natuna Besar)

Most friendly offers are genuine, but beware of the sharks cruising the neighbourhood. Which makes it sound bad, and it isn’t. There are always unsavoury characters waiting to wheedle their way into your trust on the pretence of friendship. I won’t condemn them as conmen, many are simply trying to profit a little at your expense. It’s still deception though, and I’m becoming worse for being taken for a ride, rather than more hardened towards it. Hence a local businessman has been all over me like a rash for days now, and it’s hard to shake him without being nasty. I refuse to push everyone away, I like to be open to experiences. But trawling karaoke joints, necking countless beers and employing the services of hookers is not my scene. Prostitution is rife, and surprisingly open and acceptable. Worst of all, everyone thinks there must be something wrong with me for refusing their services. Is this the result of having such a sexually repressed society? I can only assume it provides an easy outlet, therefore supply increases to meet demands. (Photo: Basic living in virtual paradise - Nr, Selading village, Desa Pulau Tiga)

The island is crawling with military personnel. Apparently China has laid some claim to the territory, once vast supplies of natural gas and oil had been found. No surprise there then! Combined with large numbers of police in Raini, it makes for a lot of uniforms littering up the place. They are normally restricted to Raini, though a multilateral Naval exercise is due to take place, so the west coast is swarming with them too. Returning from Pulau Tiga (Three Islands) the tiny dockside was pandemonium, a whole cavalcade of the top brass arrived for a jaunt in the fanciest of RIB’s I’ve set eyes on. Of course the big knobs turned up, got their arses licked, waltzed through the mayhem and sailed off, regardless of the mess they left in their wake. It kept me amused for ages watching the PM’s trying to turn round a dozen large 4WD vehicles in a confined space. I stopped asking myself why they’d directed each vehicle where they had, coordination didn’t come into the equation once. Let’s hope they manage better in the actual exercise, though I wouldn’t lay odds on it. (Photo: Picturesque hamlet, not your average row of houses - Selading, Desa Pulau Tiga)

Pulau Tiga isn’t just three islands, there are countless of them scattered throughout the region. Many seem to be inhabited, there are some real gems, the deserted islands. Strips of golden sand form a barrier between crystal clear water and dense jungle covered hills. They make me want to pack a boat full of supplies and head out, they’re so enticing, I’m sure I could amuse myself for a while in isolation. Pom-pom drivers (dirty, scruffy affairs, smelling of diesel, dishevelled and in need of maintenance – generally boat and driver), can be found to take you wherever you desire, if the price is right. Realistically, if you put 360,000 rupiah in their hands they’re yours for the taking. They don’t exactly clamour for the trade though, being quite happy to play high stakes dominoes instead. Wait until one of them has been stripped of all his cash and you might cop for a bargain. A loosely set schedule of boats regularly ply routes connecting the inhabited islands. Villages hug the coast, generally extending over the water, little ingress into the heavily forested mountainous interiors has been made so far. (Photo: If you must live in a built up area, where could be better? - Selading, Desa Pulau Tiga)

Accommodation is sparse, the only formal lodging place is Sunrise Guesthouse, at Tanjung Kumbi. With such infrequent tourism they survive mainly on the takings from food and drinks served to the gamblers. I’m sure they cut a commission from each game too. At £2.80 a night you can’t grumble about their prices. I know there is good coral in the vicinity, but without a boat I couldn’t discover the best of it. The coastline on Kumbi tends to be rocky, but the initial seabed is sandy, making for good swimming, if not perfect sunbathing. Caste your eyes out to sea and the line demarking the reef crest is clear to see, it often comes very close to shore. The quality for snorkelling is unknown, the little I explored wasn’t brilliant. It’s been heavily damaged by dynamite and cyanide fishing. Prison sentences are stiff now, so hopefully those practices are a thing of the past. There are promising signs of new coral growth, though the presence of enormous crown of thorns starfish isn’t a good sign. I only wish I had the tools to dispose of them, they’re a bit prickly to tackle with bare hands. (Photo: A rare spot of sandy beach on this island - Nr. Selading village, Desa Pulau Tiga)

From my brief excursions around the main island of Natuna, beaches initially appeared quite scarce. But it was only poor observation on my behalf, often they aren’t apparent from the road. Beautiful sandy beaches fringe extended strips of coast, all you have to do is take a closer look. The coast is lined with groves of swaying coconut palms, stop almost anywhere and make your way to the water’s edge, if you’re not standing on a nice beach there’ll be one in sight. Tourist infrastructure in non-existent, so while the beaches are plentiful, the chance to stay on one is severely limited. I had a mind to set up camp on one, slinging my hammock between a couple of palms. No-one would complain, but I hate to admit that security of your possessions could be an issue if left unattended. The vast majority of people are completely trustworthy, but a common attitude that Bulet, foreigners, can afford whatever they wish leaves us open targets. It’s a common situation throughout Indonesia, I’ve been exposed to it too many times, and it’s getting worse in my opinion. To deprive a foreigner of their possessions or money is alright, they can afford it after all! (Photo: The centre of the universe as far as accommodation on the islands go - Tanjung Kumbik, Desa Pulau Tiga)

Top of my list for local sights is Pulau Senoa. Only three kilometres from Raini is a dock sign posted for the island, it’s only thirty-minutes offshore. Now, this is a paradise island. A crescent of beautiful white sand curves round the leeward side, while the interior is dense forest. A fringing reef forms a tranquil lagoon, yet outcrops of coral can be found aplenty within its protective arms. In calm weather the scope for snorkelling increases phenomenally. Water clarity is superb, and the temperature is cool enough to refresh yet warm enough to linger, as long as you wish. The widest stretch of beach is a turtle nesting site, an overnight visit at the right time of year might well reward you with the spectacle of a turtle laying its eggs, or even better, the eggs hatching and making their way to the safety of the open sea. Whilst a wooden hut stands proud on a rocky peninsular no-one lives there, the island is deserted. If you’re lucky, once the pom-pom drops you off, you’ll have the whole place to yourself, your own private paradise. (Photo: The forest encroaching at the edge of town - Mira Guesthouse, Raini, Natuna Besar)

I was actually offered an underhand deal to procure a long lease on this island, I must admit I was tempted. It’s a conservation area, it would be nice to have someone there to actually conserve it.

I’m amazed these islands haven’t been exploited for tourism yet. Revenue is generated by the offshore gas and oil, but I’m sure little of that finds it’s way into local coffers. Agriculture consists mainly of coconuts and peanuts, it’s not extensive though, which leaves fishing as the main industry. While the local waters are meant to be rich with marine life the fishermen complain of difficulties selling their produce. The catch exceeds local demands, and export is only dreamed of. Despite this, poverty isn’t obvious. A dribble of domestic tourists come from Jakarta and Batam, but not enough to boost the local economy significantly. I’d say the island’s locals are more reserved than elsewhere in Indonesia, not cold or unfriendly, just not as outgoing. Maybe it’s unfair to relate to most as locals, of the people I’ve met, most are incomers. Sumatra is a popular source of migrants, encouraged by government funding many have relocated here. (Photo: Beautiful haven of gorgeous sand and crystal clear water - Pulau Senua, off Natuna Besar)

So is this the tropical paradise I came looking for? It certainly has what it takes, but little is utilised to best effect. Public transport is unheard of, the only feasible way to get around is by hiring a vehicle. Cars rental is prohibitively expensive, though bikes are reasonable, bank on paying about £5 per day. If you want guesthouses situated on gobsmacking beaches forget it, the beaches are waiting for you, but you’d have to rough it. There’s nothing old-world about the place, the main island is little developed but modern. The islands on the west coast are more traditional, stilted houses line rickety boardwalks extending out to sea. They’re picturesque, generally well-maintained and spacious, hovels are few and far between. It’s refreshing for people to take interest in you as a person, rather than a cash dispenser. I’ve been taken plenty of places with no thought for financial reward. It isn’t the easiest place on earth to get to, if it was all and sundry would have set up shop here already. Without doubt these islands are worth exploring. There is a lot to see, if you’re prepared to make the effort. I’ve barely scratched the surface! (Photo: More beach to keep you happy, in calmer weather the point promises very good snorkelling - Pulau Senua, off Natuna Besar)

Tanjung Putting - Orang-utan central

Being honest, Tanjung Putting National Park is the biggest tourist trap in Indonesian Borneo. And of course those who know me well will appreciate such places aren’t my favourite to visit. But it can’t take away how special the place is, how good a job the staff and scientists have done in rehabilitating and caring for so many Orang-utans. The park itself is pretty special, with abundant wildlife and seemingly pristine natural habitat it’s clear to see just why it’s so popular. Unfortunately 65% of the primary forest is classified as degraded, not that the casual eye would consider it so. I try to imagine what it would have been like before, the best I can do is appreciate how good it still is in comparison with most of Kalimantan. It’s some of the best that’s left, which is a shame if you consider how widespread Borneo’s rain forest used to. But cruising through tranquil waterways, without a soul in sight, such thoughts were far from my mind. (Photo: Still waters, peaceful days - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

Kumai is the nearest town, it’s the gateway to the park. Access is by boat only, and the two storey tourist cruisers are clustered at various points along the town’s waterfront. There’s a huge variety, from small vessels for a couple of people, to behemoths for large groups. My timing was perfect, it’s low season and few people are around. In high season there are literally dozens of boats out, quiet spots are hard to find and feeding stations are incredibly crowded. I was quoted as high as sixty boats at any one time. From photos the crowds are dense, people jostle for a decent view of an Orang-utan. So I was lucky, the most tourists at any feeding station was a mere dozen. Combined with their guides it made for plenty enough people, who made plenty enough noise. I must say it wasn’t the tourists making the noise, unfortunately it was their guides. Why they had to join in imitating the calls of the ranger is beyond me. It was more though, shouting random noises and laughing amongst themselves showed nothing but contempt for what should have been a special moment. I should feel lucky, there were no other complaints, the trip was special, and I enjoyed it immensely.  (Photo: Not too many other tourists - Camp Leakey, Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: A cluster of pitcher plants, the bright coloured lips attract insects - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

It took little time to leave the wide river and it’s heavy commercial traffic. Within half an hour we entered a smaller tributary, thick stands of nipa palms lined the water’s edge, at first they dominated the scenery. We weren’t instantly swallowed between looming hardwood giants, but it was quiet, peaceful. Small clumps of water lilies were the only debris evident, though murky the water was clear of human detritus. Apart from the gentle throbbing of our engine we could hear only birdcalls, or the droning of insects. Our skipper made no effort to hurry, we had plenty of time to sit back and soak in the scene, which gradually unfolded before us, reeling us deeper into the realms of tree lined banks. The promise of wildlife increased as the habitat became more varied, it was hard not to stare longingly into the trees, sure that some delightful creature was hiding behind every leaf and bough. They probably were, insects are the most abundant life after all.

 (Photo: A young proboscis monkey - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

But it was of course larger targets we were all hoping for, and it didn’t take long for them to appear. Crashing sounds and intense movement in thick foliage is generally an indicator of proboscis monkeys. No sooner had we seen the tell tale signs when we had our first sighting, a mixed troupe of long-nosed proboscis were spread over a wide area back in the trees. Our presence did create some reaction, but it wasn’t panic, they made to effort to scatter. Initially they simply turned their backs to us, or sat behind branches thinking they were out of sight. Like young children they seem to think if they can’t see you, then you can’t see them. The engines were cut, we stood and gaped, marvelling at how used to humans they were. With boats cruising the park all year they must be used to the traffic, confident there is no danger. It makes for good viewing, they settle down and continue as normal, ignoring us completely.  (Photo: Dominant male proboscis, in full glory - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: Mature female proboscis - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

Males and females are easily discernable. It’s the males who have the really large noses, not that you’d call the female’s nose small, but the difference is unmistakable. This troupe had loads of young among them, even from a tender age they move around the immediate area independently. I believe the mother will carry them as they move around the forest, but at rest they’re free to discover the world for themselves. The very young are scrawny, with very little fur, gangly and googly eyed. Their movement through the canopy is not as frantic or reckless as their elders, they tend to actually climb around rather than throw themselves across great distances, to crash haphazardly into a clump of leaves. But they quickly gain confidence, well before adulthood they leap far out between trees, literally crashing into a dense patch of foliage and grabbing whatever is at hand once they get there.  (Photo: Mating pair of storks - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: Our first orang-utan sighting, mother with infant - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

As they get older their coat thickens and turns a deep chestnut over their head and backs. Their noses, already notably pointed, thickens and protrudes further upwards on the females. Whereas the male’s grows ponderous, hanging low and bulbous down their faces. Though the males look a bit freakish due to their nasal protuberances, the rich coloration and thickness of their coats is outstanding. The size difference is considerable too, the dominant males grow barrel like, sporting well-developed potbellies. They also have permanent erections, and are all too ready to put them to good use. When one male started mating a bustle of activity burst out around him, other females darting every which way, youngsters jumping around, seemingly eager to get a good look at the proceedings. Apart from mating the dominant male appears sloth like, sitting lazily in the crook of a tree, surveying his troupe, maybe keeping an eye out for intruders.  (Photo: Wonderful comes in all shapes and sizes, tree frog - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

At night the troupe gathers closer, usually choosing one of the taller trees with quite sparse cover. I assume this is for safety, the higher they are the harder for predators to reach them. The sparseness of cover makes those same predators easier to spot. They look so precariously balanced it’s a wonder they don’t fall as they sleep. We witnessed one take a tumble, screeching as it went, though I think that was mainly due to a squabble. Orang-utans make completely different arrangements, they build a nest. Every night they build a fresh nest, similar to the proboscis it seems to be as high as they can make it, it’s often quite open as well. Time and again we spotted the nests while cruising along, they aren’t hard to spot during daylight hours, though I imagine they’re quite difficult to discern when it’s dark. As they’re generally solitary animals you rarely see more than one at a time. Their technique must be pretty good, they need to be to support the weight of an adult Orang-utan. The skill of constructing a nest is taught by the mother, just one of the many lessons passed on during their prolonged period of raising their young.  (Photo: Funky gibbon, unusually courageous to allow us so close - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: Mario, still quite young but a handsome beast - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

For eight years a mother will bring up her offspring, even then she retains a special relationship with them. Older children will often accompany her, even after she’s in the throws of raising another infant. I’d go as far to say she teaches her young more useful skills than the average human parent. Diet is important, she teaches which foods are edible, which are poisonous and should be avoided. Her offspring even learn the medicinal quality of plants, where to find which plants for various ailments. She helps the infant map the forest, learn how best to obtain food, which for semi-wild animals can mean stealing off tourist boats. At the second feeding station we visited the orang-utans failed to show up at the platform where they’re fed. Instead three of them, a mother, son and amorous young male, made for the boats. Not that I was complaining, I’d returned early because of the behaviour of the guides. And it worked in my favour.  (Photo: Carlos, Muthi's growing son - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: Mario and Muthi, she's checking out succulent water plants, he's checking her out - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

I got to spend time at very close quarters, not that I approached any of them, but stood my ground as they passed close to me. Actually the following day I got unexpectedly closer than was comfortable. Mustrani, the dominant male in one area, made a sudden rush in my direction. Christ I moved fast, getting to my feet and moving my camera out of his way, by which time someone advised me to stay put. What I’d not seen was the ranger coming out the office with a bowl of milk. When Mustrani had looked me in the eye and made a rush, it wasn’t for me, it was for some milk. So I ended up standing over him as he drank his bowl of milk, a situation both of us were a touch cautious about. Every few slurps he’d turn round to look at me. I didn’t move, it was awesome to be so close to him, but I didn’t want to push my luck or give him cause to object. I think his only concern was over the milk, checking to make sure I wasn’t after any myself. Cheekily I gave my guide the camera and asked her to take a photo. It looks strange, slightly set up, and more than a little disrespectful of a wild animal. Believe though, being fully aware that he could have turned and snapped me into ‘ikkle pieces at any time, I had great respect for his forbearance.  (Photo: Mario trying a sneaky approach to the boats - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

 (Photo: Muthi, playing for pity, just before an outright raid on the boats - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

In total I saw six orang-utans, stood right next to two of them, Muthi in passing and Mustrani for quite a while. I’d like to have seen Tom, the biggest of the parks dominant males. Mustrani was quite small for a dominant male, he was only young but I can only assume very aggressive when riled. In his fight for dominance he lost his right thumb, and has two crippled fingers. The one on his right hand, the middle finger, won’t bend. When he walked away holding up his right arm, the middle finger extended, you’d have sworn he was flicking us a, ‘f*** you,’ sign. Shame I didn’t have my camera at the ready. The most timid of the animals we saw was the mother with a fairly young child, she climbed down, took a bunch of bananas and climbed back up the tree again to eat them. It couldn’t have helped with the amount of noise being made, if they’d not have been semi-wild we’d not have seen them at all. Mario, the amorous male, was the most impressive. Though he’s not dominant he’s a brute, absolutely huge, and he knows it. His face has a calm countenance, he’s confident, self-assured. When fully grown he’ll be immense, he’s only just beginning to grow cheek pads, which are a sign of maturity. Already he’s much bigger than Mustrani, but from a different area of forest, other wise I feel sure he’d have assumed dominance already.  (Photo: Sunset in the National Park - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

These orang-utans are luckier than most, they have a large area of protected forest to keep them safe. But space is running out, newly rehabilitated animals must be shipped out to another area. Problems begin again for many, in areas that coincide with commercial concerns they just aren’t safe. Palm Oil plantation workers are notorious for persecuting them, I don’t quite understand exactly why. Considering how readily the one’s I saw will use humans as a means to obtain food it could easily be that rehabilitation has been their downfall, yet I find this hard to believe. Before the hospital/rehabilitation centre was founded, there was nowhere to place confiscated animals. Laws put in place to protect them from being taken as domesticated pets were unenforceable. The force behind the work on orang-utans here is Dr, Birute Galdikas, who has become the worlds foremost expert on orang-utans. Apparently even now, when she visits, the Rangers merely shout into forest that Ibud (mother) is coming and the Orang-utans arrive back in droves. For most rehabilitated animals she provided their main chance to survive in the wild, who would wish to deprive them of such a chance. I know they’re cute, many of us have a soft spot for them, but they do belong in the wild. The burning question is, how much of the wild will there be left for them? World wide people are becoming aware of the plight of the Borneo rainforest, but corruption in Indonesia means the palm oil plantations are still expanding, and orang-utans still dying unnecessarily.  (Photo: Mustrani and yours truly,  - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)

My cruise was brilliant, I saw countless proboscis monkeys, plenty of long-tailed macaques, storks, kingfishers, eagles, and a host of wee beasties on a night trek. Food on the boat was fantastic, I’ve haven’t eaten as much since leaving home. The boat itself wasn’t the best around, nor was it the cheapest. I shared with two others, a German traveller and a guy from Jakarta. Both Martin and Obath proved to be pleasant company. Considering I was looking forward to my own private cruise it went much better than expected. Rarely did we encounter anyone else while we cruised round the park, if we did it was briefly. Our captain seemed to understand that we wished to putter along and have time to appreciate our surroundings. The crew knew just what to do and when it would cause us least inconvenience. Our guide was informative, fun and cared about the environment. Was it worth the effort? Damned right it was! Was it worth the money? I do think it was overpriced, but not extortionate.   (Photo: Mustrani returning into the forest, thirst for milk slaked - Tanjung Putting, South Kalimantan)