Orangoutang hand shake!

As I reluctantly heaved my muddy and sweaty back pack onto my shoulders one more time that mid morning in northern Sumatra I couldn't help thinking how the final day of my jungle hike had not gone quite as planned. Sure, there were the leaches, the mud, the humidity not to mention the mosquito bites to contend with but what had just happened was on an entirely new level that had gotten my pulse racing.

My group, made up of four hikers and a guide, had made its way slowly in composed silence perhaps for a couple of hours already that morning along the old logging trail that lead to the river a few kilometres away from our night's camp. Each of us was absorbed by the slippery, mud caked path on which every foothold had to be chosen carefully to avoid a grimy fall. The humming and the buzzing of insects all around us was as intense as ever and somewhere in the distance I remember the occasional howl of a lonely Gibbon.

Suddenly, there was a sound of crushing undergrowth not too far ahead of us. We froze as the rummaging was got louder, heading in our direction. I felt the a surge of excitement and reached for my camera not really knowing what to expect. Our guide was as stiff as a pole with one arm raised in the air, hand closed in a clenched fist urging us all to stop dead in our tracks.

Then, some 20 metres or so on the path ahead an adult female orangoutang appeared from the bushes. She was perhaps four feet tall, apparently in her prime with a healthy shiny orange coat of fur. She peered straight at us for a few intense seconds and then slowly started to approach unthreateningly but with a clear intention of reaching us.

Our guide remained still but gone in him was the sense of urgency. He knew this particular ape well and assured us, as she wobbled closer, that she had grown in a rehabilitation centre and had been fostered back into the wild some of years ago. She had no fear of humans and every now and then made an appearance on the tourist tracks.

I barely had time to take off my backpack anticipatng a few minutes of rest that the ape was upon us and in a fraction of a second, before I even had time to react, my left hand and arm were in her very firm clasp.

There was nothing alarming to start off with and I felt calm. I took this extraordinary encounter as a photo opportunity and asked others in the group to take some frames with my camera. Once I had satisfied myself with enough shots though, I began to feel uncomfortable and then threatened.

I tried to pull myself from of orangoutang's grip while maintaining a half smile on my face. Of course there was absolutely no chance I could get away from her. She was immensely stronger than I could possibly have imagined and her clasp tightened the more I struggled and the more anxious I became. I could sense she could easily snap a bone just by exerting effortless pressure on her hand. She would not let go.

I stopped struggling after a perhaps a minute of coaxing, pulling and levering. I simply acknowledged the orangoutang had me totally in her power. I looked around for support and saw my hiking buddies recognize my concern. Someone reached for the contents of their backpack, pulled out banana and waved it in the air. That was it. My arm was released as the the ape made a dash for the ransom. I was free and spent a moment examining my arm. Just a bit sore, no damage or bruising.

So, my fellow steemers, I guess the moral to the story is do not attempt to shake hands with an ape. It's a trick to get bananas off you and if you have none to offer then you're fecked!
Apes live in the jungle, many on trees where they jump, swing from branch to branch all day, we all know that. What we might not be aware of is that although they can appear smaller than us, make no mistake: they are a damn sight stronger than anyone might suspect. 😨