Sun, 12 May 1996

When a man falls in love with a fish called 'siluk'

By K. Basrie

JAKARTA (JP): It was mid-1984 when Tris Tanoto left his job as an executive at his family's printing firm. He sold his equity in the firm to his relatives, and with Rp 400,000 (US$170) he bought a dozen Asian Arowana (Scleropages formosus) to realize an old dream of breeding the aquarium fish known as siluk in Indonesian.

"I could not concentrate on my work at the printing firm when people kept on telling me about the myth that the siluk could bring good fortune and a bright future to its owner," he said.

"So, I decided to leave everything to focus on my new project, only to find the truth in the myth about this lovely creature," recalled Tanoto, now 46 and known to be one of Indonesia's few successful siluk breeders.

He spent his savings, borrowed some more, and got financial support from three friends. A year later, he took his 12 fish from the aquarium at his home to a breeding pond at his small farm in Munjul village in Cibubur, East Jakarta.

"I just threw all the fish into the pond without any special treatment because I knew nothing about this fish except the myth which had challenged me," he said.

"At that time, I was pretty sure that there must be some females among the 12 fish, meaning that they could produce arowana babies one day," said Tanoto, a high school graduate with no background in fish breeding.

Ornamental tropical fish lovers know that the 45-centimeter- long siluk, a type of barramundi, needs extra careful treatment.

According to Tanoto, the first two years was extremely hard for him and his family.

His three partners quit the unpredictably high-risk project and asked for their money back.

"They suddenly left me alone at this lonely farm, saying that the tales about the fish bringing good fortune were only a bedtime story," Tanoto said.

He hoped his fish would understand his plight.

"I then decided to run the business myself because I staked my life and future on this dazzling fish," he said. "I vowed not to give up because I had fallen in love with this fish since our first date (when was that?)."

Tanoto, who was almost broke, spent days and nights at the pond.

One chilly morning, he was overjoyed when he saw several baby arowana in the pond.

"It was a long and winding road, but a wonderful scene," he commented of his success.

The number of fish grew logarithmically.

Today, he has hundreds of ready-to-export siluk and thousands of fry. His super-red arowana, billed as one of the best Scleropages formosus species, are worth billions of rupiah.

"Life sometimes starts at an unexpected age," Tanoto said.

"It seems to me that the age-old myth about the good fortune of owners of this fish is true," he said.

His company, P.T. Munjulprima Utama, exports the fish mainly to Japan, the home of many wealthy arowana lovers.

German Chancellor Helmut Kohl collects the Munjul super-red arowana.

Tanoto no longer wants to sell his siluk locally.

"I've been cheated several times by local traders who used the certificates issued originally for my super-red arowana for fake ones," he said.

In order to satisfy his overseas buyers, Tanoto carefully selects their orders.

"Currently, I export around 300 fish a year," he said, refusing to give details on the total worth of the exports.

According to Tanoto, there is no standard price for a siluk. "It depends on the condition of the fish, including its color, body and eyes," he explains.

A reliable source said that Tanoto's fish can fetch 1,000 Japanese yen ($9,361)) each in Tokyo.

"Some even have been sold for hundreds of millions of rupiah," the source said.

Tanoto plans to display his fish next year in exhibition tanks at his new plot in Ranggon village near his Munjul breeding farm.

His new farm, which will have 11 ponds, a showroom with 600 aquariums and a theater, is still under construction.

"I still have a lot of dreams for my fish," said Tanoto.

Despite his success, Tanoto has remained a simple man. Unlike many newly-successful businesspeople, Tanoto prefers to act and look like an ordinary person. No brand-name watch or designer clothes for Tanato.

In a recent interview with The Jakarta Post at his farm, he wore what his employees call his field uniform: a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

"Me is me," he said, his favorite cigarette between his fingers.

He does not have any specific skills to deal with his potential foreign buyers.

"I cannot speak English, nor Japanese. And I don't want to learn them," he said. "If buyers want to buy my fish, they have to hire interpreters. I don't like to be bothered just because of a language problem."

According to his 20 employees, including two fishery engineers, Tanoto spends most of his time on his farm at Munjul, about an hour's drive from his home in North Jakarta.

"You can see him leaving the farm at around 10 p.m. and he is back again before six in the morning," said one of his employees.

"For me, my wife and children are still the most important things that I have," Tanoto argued. "What's life without them?"

Tanoto said that he had to spend more time at the breeding farm "purely because I really love to see them (the fish) playing."

"Like many creatures, this kind of fish also wants to get close with its owner," he said.

Strangely, the successful breeder doesn't keep Asian Arowana at home.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't come here anymore if I had one at home," he explained.