ADVENTURES

Jugra RM3 Fishing Pond

A Fishing Rod, and a Front Row Seat to Nature For RM3.00

By Philemon Foo

There are expensive hobbies. Golf, for instance, is a magnificent way of paying hundreds of ringgit to become furious at a tiny white ball. Then there is fishing, one of my favourite hobbies. And here is place I frequent, the RM3 Saltwater Paypond in Jugra, Selangor, where for the princely sum of RM3 per fishing rod, you get fresh air, wildlife, excitement, the occasional sunburn, and the possibility of going home with fishes plenty enough to frighten your freezer.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call value. The first thing that strikes you about this place is how wonderfully open it is. No towering buildings, noisy traffic, concrete jungle trying to convince you that nature is something you watch only on YouTube. Here you get sky, and lots of it.

And when the wind begins to blow across the ponds… goodness me. That breeze doesn’t merely cool you down. It reaches into your soul, gives your worries a good shake, and politely throws them into the nearest mangrove.

A crab that walked up to me whilst I was fishing.

There have been times when I’ve simply wanted to put my fishing rod down, lean back, and let the breeze do all the entertaining. Fish can wait… Moments like these are worth catching too.

Then, suddenly… “Crikey! Look over there!” You realise you’re not alone. A stately stork glides past like an aristocrat inspecting its estate. Raptors circle overhead with the confidence of fighter pilots. Tiny crabs scuttle sideways with absolutely no regard for traffic rules. Eels burrowing into the surface of the bank, looking like underwater spaghetti with an attitude. And snakes occasionally reminding everyone that this is still the real world, not an aquarium.

It’s a proper little ecosystem. The ponds may have been dug by machines, but nature clearly received the invitation and decided to move in permanently.

But What About the Fishing?

Now let’s talk fish. Not boring little fishes that tickle one’s tackle. We’re talking barramundi that fight like they’ve got unpaid taxes. Mangrove jacks with enough bad temper to qualify as professional wrestlers. Tiger groupers that seem permanently offended by your existence. And even saltwater tilapia, perhaps the most docile of the lot, yet still fun to play with.

Fishing is good here. They allow the use of lures, and live baits.

Each species enjoys its own dedicated pond, making it easy to decide whether you fancy a polite afternoon or an all-out wrestling match with something that believes your fishing line is merely a suggestion.

Of course, paradise has its own sense of humour. Being wonderfully open also means there isn’t much standing between you and Mother Nature when she decides to have one of her moods. If the sun comes out, it doesn’t gently warm your skin. It attempts to cook you medium rare. If rain arrives, forget getting damp. You’ll be soaked so thoroughly that passing fish may mistake you for one of their relatives.

Hard fighting saltwater fishes. Here’s Mike battling a barramundi.

There are shaded huts scattered around the ponds, which are fantastic, but they’re a bit like first-class seats on an aeroplane, that are badly designed. Yet, everyone wants one. But not everyone gets one.

Then comes one of the rules that surprises many first-time visitors. Every fish you catch is yours. No catch and release. Once that fish lands on the bank, it’s coming home with you. The staff weigh your catch, calculate the price according to the species, and that’s that; you pay and take your fishes home.

Some anglers might blink at the idea, but it does encourage people to fish responsibly. Every strike suddenly matters. Every hook-up becomes a decision. You quickly stop catching fish “just for fun” because each one is heading for your dinner table, or at least your wallet.

A mangrove jack caught on Berkley Softbaits.

There is one aspect that occasionally makes me wrinkle my nose… The water. Because it is pumped in from the nearby river, there are days when it isn’t exactly the tropical lagoon of your dreams. Sometimes it looks rather… enthusiastic. Not dangerous, just less photogenic than I’d prefer.

Still, fish rarely care what humans think about water colour. They seem perfectly happy. And judging by the battles they put up, they’re positively thriving. In the end, that’s what makes this place so enjoyable. It isn’t pretending to be a luxury fishing resort. It isn’t trying to impress you with marble walkways or fancy cafés. It’s honest, affordable, and wonderfully close to nature.

Mike and his mangrove jack, caught on a Berkley Powerbait.

A Rather Magical Place Especially When You Decide to Take in the Nature

It’s the sort of place where you can spend hours listening to the wind, watching birds patrol the skies, admiring wildlife, chatting with fellow anglers, and suddenly having your peaceful afternoon interrupted by a mangrove jack that has declared war on your fishing rod.

For RM3 per rod, that’s not just cheap entertainment. That’s one of Selangor’s best bargains for wetting your fishing lines, and having protein on your table. And if you happen to leave with aching arms, muddy shoes, a cooler box full of fish, and a smile that lasts all the way home, I’d say Jugra has done exactly what every good fishing destination should…

“It reminded you that sometimes the best adventures don’t cost a fortune. Sometimes, they cost just three ringgit.”