Still wild at 77

The Star

7 days ago

FORMER Royal Malaysian Air Force fighter pilot Capt Sim Yong Wah is a man carved from adventure.
At 77, he carries the same sharpness and spirit that once defined his years in the cockpit as a fighter pilot.
The retired aviator, among the first batch trained in the UK, and later a commercial airline flight trainer, has logged more hours in the sky than most men spend on earth.
Yet, it is not the sky that defines him now, but the sea, the snow, the silence of the jungle and the endless theatre of the outdoors.
For Sim, the world has always been his canvas, but it is the ocean that first stirred his soul.
Forty-five years ago, when most Malay­sians still hesitated at the shoreline, Sim donned a wetsuit, sealed his camera in a waterproof case and slipped into the deep.
He was among the first Malaysians to take underwater photography seriously – not for acclaim, but for love.
Morning mist draping over the terraced hills of Yuanyang, China, with distant villages ­emerging like islands in a sea of clouds.
The sea is where he breathes fullest.
He spent the first 20 years of his photo­graphy life chasing colourful fish, vibrant coral reefs, the stillness of seahorses and the ballet of barracudas.
He fell hard for Sipadan, that volcanic island off the coast of Borneo that now sits as a crown jewel in Malaysia's diving lore.
Long before Jacques Cousteau made his legendary visit and put Sipadan on the global map, Sim had already been diving its depths.
In 1993, nearly a decade after his first dive, he published his own coffee table book – not a product of vanity, but a testament to his devotion.
The book shimmered with pages of the sea's secret life, captured through his dis­ciplined lens.
It would later inspire a generation of Borneo-based dive-shop owners to see the island not just as a destination, but a calling.
A fisherman ­casting his net over glassy waters in Chenzhou, China, his reflection rippling beneath the morning haze.
But true to his journeyman spirit, Sim would not stay tethered to the reef.
After two decades of diving, he moved on, not away from photography, but outward, towards land.
He turned his lens on wild landscapes, distant continents and elusive creatures.
He journeyed to Patagonia, the savannahs of Africa, the frozen shoulders of Antarc­tica and eventually, the Himalayas.
He wasn't chasing fame or a checklist of exotic locales. He was chasing a feeling – the moment when light, wind and wildness align behind a viewfinder.
In 2018, just two years before the pandemic would bring the world to a crawl, Sim returned to his first love, the ocean.
This time it was Raja Ampat in Indo­ne­sia, where rainforests spill into the sea and coral reefs explode in kaleidoscopic life.
Slipping back into the sea felt like coming home.
Sim emerged from those dives reawa­kened, once again rekindling the fire that started it all.
An Arctic tern tenderly feeding its chick along the stony shore, wings spread wide against the chill of Norway's Svalbard coast.
Yet, the ocean is just one of many chapters in his boundless tale.
His pursuit of the snow leopard took him to Kibber, high in the Indian Himalayas, where oxygen is thin and the snow comes up to your knees. He hiked more than 3km, camera gear strapped across his back, battling altitude and cold, just for the chance to glimpse the ghost of the mountain.
He has pursued the Pallas's cat, that flat-faced, wide-eyed creature of the steppes, in the bitter, wind-blown grasslands of eastern Mongolia, where temperatures dip below -30°C and the landscape rolls endlessly in shades of ochre and bone.
Found across the arid plains of Central Asia, the Pallas's cat survives where little else does, which was precisely why Sim sought it out.
Despite his age, Sim remains a tireless craftsman.
His photography kit weighs over 5kg, comprising not just a camera, but a carefully-curated ensemble of bodies, lenses and filters.
Each trip is a ritual of meticulous preparation: batteries charged, sensors cleaned and tripods tested.
He treats his gear like a wingman, every screw and strap attended to with military precision.
A polar bear striding across the sea ice of Storoya, Norway, its powerful presence framed by drifting icebergs and the frozen Arctic expanse.
In the field, he's known to rise before dawn, study the light, recalibrate his angles and sometimes wait for hours to capture a single frame.
He has shot more than a million frames in his lifetime – first on slides, now digital – each one bearing the signature of patience, timing and trust in the wild.
Sim's outdoor passions extend beyond photography – he swims with the rhythm of the sea, cycles through rural paths like a man tracing old flight routes and plays golf with a grace that betrays his fighter pilot control.
Yet, it is in the wilderness, the open savannah, the snow-covered slope and the dense jungle where he is most alive.
The jungle, he says, feels like home.
'Silence is natural to me,' he noted. 'If I don't get the shot, I'm still happy to be there. The wild is enough.'
He is not alone in his travels. His wife and steadfast companion, Mimi Wong, has been at his side for decades.
A quiet figure beside the boisterous landscapes, Wong is more than a partner; she's his lightman, assistant, co-adventurer and gear wrangler.
Together, they've crossed continents, chased whales, camped with wolves and navigated the chaos of airports with bags of fragile lenses. Their partnership is the quiet thread that runs through every chapter of Sim's photographic journey.
Sim shows no signs of slowing down. His next adventure is already on the horizon, though he hasn't revealed the destination.
There's talk of Galapagos. Maybe back to the high Himalayas. Wherever it is, it will be wild, hard-earned and breathtaking.
Sim is, and has always been, a journeyman.
A man for whom adventure is not a detour, but a direction.
The world, to him, is not a place to retire from, but a lifelong assignment, waiting to be captured, one frame at a time.
For a good cause
Sim will be holding an exhibition with Ng Wymin, showcasing their wildlife and ­landscape photographs.
Proceeds from the sale of the photographs under the theme 'The Two Journeymen' will be donated to the National Autism Society of Malaysia (Nasom).
The exhibition will be held at Pentago House, 58 Jalan Rotan, Kampung Attap,
50460 Kuala Lumpur, from Aug 23 to 31.