FROM LEMBAH KERAMAT TO REJANG RIVER

Title: BROWN WATER NAVY - Daily Life on the Patrol Boat: Morning and Night on the Rejang River (1983/84)

By: 809025 Ex-LK KMR Hj Zulheimy Bin Maamor

Ex-Crew of Riverine Craft, KD Sri Rejang

I grew up in Kuala Lumpur, in the narrow lane of Lembah Keramat, far away from Sarawak. As a schoolboy learning about Geography, I memorised the name 'Sungai Rejang' as the longest river in Malaysia, 563 km from the Iran Mountain to the South China Sea. It was just a line on a textbook map. I never thought that life would take me there. I never imagines that one day I would end up far from home, in the heart of Borneo, wearing the uniform of the Navy, patrolling the mighty Batang Rejang. 

In 1983/84, while serving with the Royal Malaysian Navy River Patrol Boat at KD Sri Rejang in Sibu, Sarawak, during Ops Jala Aman 1, I found myself patrolling that very river I once only read about it in the school textbook. 

People ask me, what was it like to be Brown Water Navy?

We were Brown Water Navy, not the Blue Water Fleet at the Open Ocean, not Frigates or Landing Ship Tank. Our sea was brown. Muddy, fast, and alive. Sungai Rejang — the longest in Malaysia, 563km of muddy water from the hills of Kapit to the sea at Sibu. We were the only permanent Royal Malaysian Navy riverine base in Malaysia, operating under RASCOM (Rejang Area Security Command), which was established March 25, 1972, and our job was simple: patrol, interdict, and support. Morning and night.

0500H - Dawn at KD Sri Rejang, Sibu

Life started in the early morning. The base at Sibu, at the convergence of the Rajang and Igan rivers, woke to diesel smoke. We were a small crew — 5 to 6 men only. A Skipper (Boat Commander), 2 Seamen, 1 Motor Mechanic (TMK), and 1 Radio Operator (RO) — that was me. We operated three types of Bot Lancang: RCP for combat patrol and escort, LCP for swift troop insertion, and LCM for heavy logistics.

Breakfast was Roti, Sardine and black coffee in a tin mug. Radio check with KD Sri Rejang COMCEN before take off, "KD Sri Rejang, this is RCP7, Radio Check, Over,".... the answer always cracked. Then we cast off. No fanfare and Sibu was still asleep. Our boat was small, but our Job was big, to show the flag, to keep the river safe during the last years of the communist insurgency. 

My skipper remind me as I'm new here, " Zul, jangan main-main dengan sungai tok. Hormat sungai, sungai akan jaga kitak." He is a Sarawakian Malay from Kuching.

This Riverine Patrol Boat, or we called them Bot Lancang, were our homes. Our boat was heavily armed — 20mm Oerlikon cannon forward, 7.62 LMG and L2A1 on the sides. But our biggest enemy was sound. We carried everything and everyone, personel from 24 RAMD, 8 RRD Rangers, 11 RGK Commandos, 17 PPH (Police Field Force), Sarawak Border Scouts, 105 mm Guns of the Artillery, rations, mail, sometims a chicken in a basket from a longhouse. 

Our sector was Sibu to Kapit, to Kuala Rejang or Kuala Paloh, the heart of the Rejang river. We will often stop at Sarikei, Kanowit, Kapit, Song, Durin, Belaga, Binatang (now Bintangor) and a few longhouses in between. 

In Song, the jetty was our second home. The kids knew us by name on my nametag. "Bang Zul, kitak ada gula-gula kah?" they would ask. I always kept some in my pocket. "Aok, ada. Tapi jangan bising-bising dalam kelas, faham?" I would answer, and they would laugh and run away.

Sometimes we would be invited up to the longhouse for a drink. Tuak. We had to be polite. "Saudara, minum sikit. Untuk perpaduan," the Tuai Rumah would say. We never refused respect.

The river was our road. No tar, no traffic lights. Only the brown water, the green banks and the occasional batang kayu besar floating dangerously close. Our Skipper was a Sarawakian Malay from Kuching who could read the river like a book. He khew where the sandbank was,where the current was strong . 

Life on the patrol boat was tight. Four or five of us, sleeping side by side, eating from the same pot, sharing the same mosquitoes. But there was brotherhood. True brotherhood — whether you were Malay, Iban, Indian, or even the Sarawakian Chinese boys attached to the boat.

Our boat crews were not permanent. They always changed, especially for a Radio Operator like me. I was not attached to just one boat; I went wherever the operation needed me. So I had the chance to serve on the RCP, the LCM and the LCP.

The acoustic signature of our engines was so loud, the thick jungle along Sungai Assan, Sungai Naman, Sungai Setabau and Sungai Nyemah would hear us minutes before we arrived. Ambush was always in our mind.

The Rejang is a highway, market, bath and battlefield. Longhouses on stilts, kids swimming next to our patrol boat, women pounding rice, old men watching us with eyes that had seen the Emergency, Confrontation and now this. 

We would cast off as mist lifted off the water. The first SITREP (Situation Report)  at 0800H had to be transmitted — usually from Nanga Gaat, where there is a war memorial erected by the British for 21 Commonwealth troops killed during the Confrontation.

The Route: Our Villages, Our Jetties

Patrol was not non-stop running. We were the river bus, the ambulance, the gunboat, the grocer — all in one.

Song — a quiet riverside town, capital of Song District. We would tie up at the wooden jetty for a short break, buy ice, kopi O. The Iban folks knew us.

Kanowit — dominated by the Iban community, a place of old stories like Tragedi Pendam Bungkang told by the Border Scouts.

Binatang (now Bintangor) — famous for oranges. Renamed Bintangor by Tun Taib after the Bintangor tree.

Sarikei — the fruit basket of Sarawak, pineapples everywhere.

Kapit — deep interior. Four districts: Bukit Mabong, Belaga, Song, Kapit itself. The river gets narrower, hills become mountains, longhouses on stilts watch you from the bank.

Belaga — the end of the world for us. Isolated, home to Orang Ulu, and later the site of Bakun Dam.

At every jetty, kids would run down. "Navy! Navy!" Old folks would bring pisang. We carried Army boys from 24 RAMD, 8 RRD Rangers, 11 RGK Commandos, and 17 PPH Police Field Force, plus artillery and Sarawak Border Scouts. We inserted them, extracted them, brought their rations and 105mm howitzers.

Night Patrol — The River Changes

At 1800H the river changes colour, no  lights, no moon sometimes. Just black. We switch the interior light to preserve night vision. The order was clear - listen, watch and be ready. In those years, the threat was still there. The communists used the same river too. It was cold at night. Very cold for us boys from Semenanjung. 

At 2000H, second SITREP. Night patrol was a different animal. No lights on the longhouses. Only the moon, our running lights, and the searchlight sweeping the riverbank. The jungle was pitch black. We ran with red light inside the wheelhouse to keep our night vision. Second boat behind us, 100 meters astern, always.

One night, near Nanga Poi, we heard an engine - different from the normal express boat. We cut our engine and drifted. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would come out. 

"Diam... jangan buka lampu."whispered our skipper. We waited for 20 minutes. Nothing. It was probably just a fisherman longboat. But in that moment, you learn what fear and duty like together. 

It was during those night runs you felt it most — we were alone on a black river, engine roaring, responsible for the whole basin.The river at night was a different animal. Mist, moonlight on brown water that looked like oil, cicadas so loud you could not hear the radio. That was our night patrol, not just fear of ambush from 20mm Oerlinkon range. Sometimes, we feared the river itself. 

In November 1983, we learned how dangerous even our own boat could be — an RCP suffered a gas leak explosion at Sri Igan Jetty and sank. My friend LK PPP Montaza Hj Amin suffered second-degree burns. After that, safety regulations were tightened drastically.

And on Jan 8, 1984, KD Sri Perak sank in the South China Sea. KD Hang Tuah and KD Sri Terengganu had to shelter at our jetty in Sibu. We were on 24-hour alert.

Gawai Dayak 1984 in Song District — The Girl at the Jetty

Gawai Dayak 1 June 1984. We had stopped in Song for a short break. The jetty was crowded. The whole longhouse had come down for Gawai — tuak in bamboo, everyone in full Iban dress, ngajat dancing on the jetty planks.

I was buying cigarettes at the shop when I saw her — an Iban girl from the longhouse, carrying a basket of pua kumbu cloth. 

Rambut panjang, senyum manis. Ya nanya aku dalam Melayu Sarawak "Abang Navy, sudah minum tuak kah?" "Belum Gawai kalau belum minum!"

Aku malu, aku Radio Operator biasa main morse code, sik biasa bekelaka dengan dara. "Aku Islam, ndak minum tuak"... Ya ketawa "Takut mabuk kah?minum sikit jak." "Bot Navy selalu lalu, tapi jarang singgah lama"

She asked again, "Abang Navy, kitak orang Semenanjung kah? Jauhnya datang ke Song. "

I replied, "Aok, kamek dari Semenanjung, tapi kinek tok. Song tok pun rumah kamek juak." She laughed. 

We talked only for 10 minutes before the whistle blew. "Boat mau jalan!" I never got her name properly. But I still remember her laugh. That's the thing about Rejang — you remember the faces on the jetties more than the patrols.

Aku masih ingat sampai kinek tok.... Di Song , 1984.

But in Song, during Gawai, even the river stops being a war zone. For one afternoon, there were no insurgents, no RASCOM, no patrol. Just music, rice wine, and the Rejang flowing brown and slow behind us.

That is the life of the Brown Water Navy. Not glamorous like in the movies. It was sweat, diesel, rain, and long hours on a brown river. But it taught me about Malaysia. The real Malaysia. From Lembah Keramat to the Rejang River, we are one.

If you were that girl, or her family from Song District in 1984, this photo essay is for you. Terima kasih for letting us be guests, not just Navy. 

That was our life. Brown water, brown skin, brown river. People ask what we did in Sarawak. We were not famous, we were not heroes. We were just boys from across Malaysia, 20-23  years old, given a boat, a gun, and a river we had to keep safe — morning and night.

KD Sri Rejang was decommissioned on 3 Nov 1991, after the peace agreement on 17 Oct 1990 when the last 52 guerrillas laid down arms. 

Today, the Rejang river is quieter. The insurgency is history taught in books. When my family and I attended the Navy open day at Lumut on 2 May 2026, one young sailor who I met and I showed him a photo of me as a crew of Riverine Patrot Boat at Sarawak,  ask me, "Pakcik, Is it true that the Navy has ever been in the river?

"Yes, we were there, Brown water Navy. Mud on our feet, diesel in our lungs, Oerlinkon grease on our hands. 

We are not forgotten. The river remembers, the jetty is still there and the brown water still flows. 

Now it's Kem Sri Rejang, home of 510 Askar Wataniah. But for us who served 1983/84, it will always be the Brown Water Navy base.

**Al-Fatihah to our soldiers who did not return from Assan Naman on April 24, 1983.**

Other Readings:

1. Zulheimy Maamor: My Note Book - Brown Water Navy, KD Sri Rejang (1983/84).
2. Zulheimy Maamor: What is Brown Water Navy?.
3. Zulheimy Maamor : Kalau hutan tiba-tiba sunyi, apa maksudnya?.
4. Zulheimy Maamor : RASCOM HQ MIl - Ops Jala Aman 1, Sibu, Sarawak (1983/84). 
5. Zulheimy Maamor: KD Sri Rejang - Memoir seorang Veteran. 

About the authors:

809025 ex-LK KMR Hj Zulheimy Maamor, served at KD Sri Rejang in 1983/1984. This essay is self-published for family, comrades and the river villages of Batang Rajang. All photos from my personal collection. 

Hj. Zulheimy Maamor

Lembah Keramat, K.L

Ex-Crew, Riverine Craft

KD Sri Rejang (1983-84)

24 August 2026: 11.05 p.m