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Despite the seeming impossibility of his project, Tan Sri Lim Goh Tong saw beyond the dense wilderness and harsh terrain of Genting Highlands, as it beckoned him to claim the mountain that would eventually elevate his fortunes and seal his fame among legendary Malaysian entrepreneurs. Through his visionary genius, he not only
transformed the physical landscape but also propelled his pet project onto the global map of tourism. Read Part 1 of his labour of love, republished with permission. |
I am known in business circles as one who is quite capable of doing things and making decisions that seem to fly in the face of good sense.
As far as I can remember, there have been 12 such cases. Here are some that come to my mind readily. In 1953, while canvassing for support for an iron mining project, I made a bold profit forecast of RM4 million a year. Everybody regarded it as a joke.
In 1956, I undertook to build a four-mile sewer in Kuala Lumpur that had defied completion by two previous contractors, including a reputable British firm. My peers thought I was downright foolish in taking over a project that nobody wanted and predicted certain failure for me, too.
In 1967, I won a contract to build the Kemubu Irrigation Scheme with a winning bid that was RM10 million lower than that of my closest rival. Everybody said I had gone nuts.
In all these cases, I vindicated myself in the end. I am bringing this up not to prove anything, but just to make the point that if we are confident of our decisions, we should not be bothered by ridicule or criticism.
My decision to embark on developing a wilderness called Genting Sempah that straddles the borders between Pahang and Selangor was actually regarded by detractors as the biggest joke.
I can still recall the reactions of my friends and fellow builders when I told them about my plan. Almost all of them gaped in incredulity. Some even told me point blank that I was mad. And they could well be forgiven for saying so. At that time, nobody had heard of Genting. In fact, it could not even be found on ordinary maps. But I had chosen to invest heavily in money and time to develop it
into a tourist resort. Many likened me to the proverbial foolish old man who tries to move a mountain shovel by shovel.
A well-meaning friend cautioned me that if I were in the logging business, it would not be a bad idea to carry out logging on Gunung Ulu Kali. But trying to turn Genting into a tourist resort was as bizarre as a tale in The Arabian Nights.
At a time when I had established myself reasonably well in many of my business undertakings, including hardware trading, mining and contracting, why should I risk everything on developing a wilderness?
Why should I, at almost 50 and financially comfortable, opt to stick out my neck again in a risky venture when most in my shoes would have been preparing themselves for a carefree retirement?
These were the questions that puzzled many at that time. Actually, the answers are simple. The notion of retirement has never ever crossed my mind. Even now, when I am well into my 80s, I still work as usual. To me, any time is an opportune time to embark on a business venture, especially one that has little appeal to others. Chances are that, in such a venture, there would be no one to compete
with you and, if you made good, the reward could well be very handsome indeed.
Fortuitous Birth
The Genting project basically fitted my idea of an ideal business: no one was interested in it, which meant no competition.
I took the plunge against all odds and held on steadfastly. Looking back, I cannot help admiring myself for the courage to tell the world then: "Laugh at me as you please, but nothing will deter me from going up that mountain."
My idea of developing a mountain resort was not the result of an active search for business opportunities. In fact, it just popped up in my mind quite fortuitously one night in 1963.
At that time, I was a sub-contractor for the Cameron Highlands Hydroelectric Project of which a well-known West German firm was the main contractor.
That night, I had dinner in Cameron Highlands with the German firm's General Manager, Chief Engineer and nine other people. After a few rounds of liquor, I felt hot and went out for some fresh air.
As I stood there taking in the enchanting highland night view, a cool breeze blew over me. It was so soothing and refreshing that I just closed my eyes and took a deep breath to savour the salubrious mountain air. Then a train of thought ran through my mind.
The first thing that struck me was that in tropical Malaysia, everybody likes to retreat to a cool mountain resort for a holiday every now and then. This could be seen from the popularity of Cameron Highlands with the local as well as foreign tourists. But Cameron Highlands was a good four or five hours' drive from Kuala Lumpur and the roads uphill were narrow and winding. It would be ideal if
there was a mountain resort within one or two hours' drive from Kuala Lumpur.
I was also convinced that as the standard of living rose steadily in a fast developing Malaysia, more and more people would visit mountain resorts for relaxation and recreation.
So why not develop a mountain resort at the doorstep of Kuala Lumpur? The idea made me quiver with excitement.
But where?
A Kuala Lumpur resident for many years, I was familiar with the terrain of its surrounding areas. I knew the only likely place to find a mountain high enough for a resort was around Bentong in the east. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, thinking how I would realise my dream of developing a mountain resort. I was so excited that I could not wait to start.
The moment I returned to Kuala Lumpur, I got hold of a topographical map of the Bentong district and scanned it. Gunung Ulu Kali at a place called Genting Sempah caught my eyes. I had never heard of the place but its name sounded pleasant to me.
Rising 1,800 metres and just 58 km away from Kuala Lumpur, Gunung Ulu Kali fitted perfectly as my ideal place for a mountain resort. I was ecstatic over the discovery.
Within days, I assembled a team to explore the mountain and its surrounding areas. The 20-strong team included Lim Lian Huat, who had been assisting me for over 35 years; Rahman, a native of Muar who had surveyed almost all the mountains in Malaysia with me in our search for iron ore, and many of my long-serving workers.
Spearheaded by an advance party led by Rahman and guided by some aborigines, we set off on the arduous journey. Along the way, we struggled through dense jungles, climbed over many steep mountains and crossed numerous streams and rivers before succeeding in reaching the summit of Gunung Ulu Kali.
During the expedition that lasted nine days and eight nights, we gathered a wealth of data on the topography, drainage, soil conditions and other relevant aspects of the region. This and the first-hand knowledge about the site that I gained on this valuable journey proved to be very useful in drawing up the plan for developing the resort.
On our first encounter, the mountain struck me with her pristine natural beauty and her bracingly cold climate. As we set foot on the summit, I was shivering in the wind because I had not brought along warm clothing. But I was not complaining; the cold would make it special and help to attract visitors to the resort.
Despite the biting cold, I was in high spirits. With a little help from the brandy I had brought along, I worked tirelessly, recording every relevant detail. I had fallen head over heels in love with this virgin wilderness and vowed to transform it into my dream resort.
During our survey, I discovered that the little known mountain straddles the border between the states of Pahang and Selangor. This gave rise immediately to a host of questions: Which State Government has jurisdiction over the land? To whom shall I submit my application for the project? Where shall I start from? It suddenly dawned on me that I had a colossal task ahead of me.
Applications
In the latter part of 1963, I began by putting in an application to the Pahang State Government for the land at Genting Sempah for development of a tourist resort. The Bentong District Officer advised me to approach the Federal Government directly as they already had a plan to develop Genting Sempah.
Tan Sri Haji Mohd Noah bin Omar was kind enough to introduce me to Tunku Abdul Rahman, our first Prime Minister. My meeting with him was cordial. He listened patiently as I explained my idea of developing Gunung Ulu Kali into a holiday resort.
He confirmed that the Government had wanted to develop the mountain. But the plan had been shelved because of certain constraints. The first was the problem of access. To develop the place, he said, a road must first be built from the foothills to the summit of the mountain. Preliminary surveys by the Public Works Department showed that such a road would take about 15 years to complete. Moreover,
the country was embroiled in Confrontation with Indonesia. Channelling a huge amount of funds into the development of a holiday resort at that time would give ammunition to the Opposition. Thus, the Government felt it would be wisest to allow the private sector to carry out the project. My offer to develop the mountain must have struck the Tunku as timely for he asked me to prepare a project
paper.
I got it ready within a week. After going through it, the Tunku commended me and gave me the green light to start the project.
On 27 April 1965, Tan Sri Haji Mohd Noah and I incorporated a private company called Genting Highlands Sdn Bhd. For the next five years, we applied to the Pahang and Selangor State Governments for 4,940 hectares and 1,110 hectares of freehold land respectively.
With the Tunku's recommendation, the Pahang State Government promptly approved our application. However, the Selangor Menteri Besar Datuk Harun Idris would only give the land on a 99-year lease. I went to see Datuk Harun and explained to him why we needed freehold land: it would take 30 to 40 years and enormous investments to build roads, hotels, staff quarters and to install water and electricity
supplies and other amenities in the jungle area. A 99-year lease would mean that we would have to return the land to the Government not long after completion of the development.
If Selangor did not approve our request for freehold tenure, I would be forced to develop only the land on the Pahang side. Pahang would then have yet another holiday resort besides Cameron Highlands, Fraser's Hill and its many beautiful beaches along the shore of the South China Sea. Selangor, with only the muddy Morib beach to offer, would lag even further behind Pahang in tourist attractions.
My presentation convinced Datuk Harun into recommending to the State Government that our request be granted.
With the major hurdles of project approval and land acquisitions behind me, what started off as a pipe dream had now become a tangible goal within my reach. This gave me added confidence to make my dream a reality.
On 8 August 1965, I led a team of technicians and workers to begin work. Simultaneously, we were working on the blueprint for the development of Genting Highlands, including the network of roads, hotels, entertainment centres and a golf course. The development of Genting Highlands had begun.
I set myself a six-year target to complete the access road. Soon after the commencement of work, I realised the task of building the 20 km access road from the foothills to the summit of Gunung Ulu Kali was indeed as tough as the Tunku had anticipated. But there
was no backtracking. I told myself that there was only one way to go: up the mountain and to reach the peak.
Public Works Department officials told me that in the Government's original plan to develop Gunung Ulu Kali, there was a proposal to build a telecommunications tower half-way up the mountain. Since my access road would lead right to the summit, I proposed that the Government consider building the tower there for better reception. The Government agreed on condition that the road be completed in
three years and promised me a RM900,000 subsidy upon completion of the road.
The task was mind-boggling. The Government's first estimate for building the road was 15 years; I had cut it down to six; now it was slashed to three. I accepted the challenge.
Working Our Guts Out
Since I had committed myself to a project completion time that was half of my original target, I reckoned that my construction team would have to work in two shifts round the clock, seven days a week. Such an intensive pace of working is nothing unusual nowadays, but back in 1960s it was rare. I divided the workforce into two teams: one to carry out the survey work in front, the other to do the
tree-felling, bulldozing and road-building behind. From the foothills at the 20th mile of the old Kuala Lumpur-Bentong Road, we began building the first 12 km of the access road to about midpoint up the mountain.
Our strategy was to establish a midhill base in the granite-rich valley where we could extract stones as a building material. From there, we built the remaining 8 km to the summit. To save time and effort, we built makeshift quarters in the jungle and even stayed in caves wherever they were available along the way. I camped out with the workers whenever necessary. As we cut our way through dense
virgin jungle, some of our workers even had tales to tell about their encounters with tigers.
Besides working flat out on the job, I also threw in all the resources and equipment of my family company, Kien Huat Realty Sdn Bhd, including bulldozers, tractors, air compressors and lorries. The availability of these heavy machines helped the developer company save a great deal of capital expenditure.
Unfortunately, back in the 1960s, our machines were not as sophisticated as those available today. This, as well as the difficult terrain, hampered the progress of the project.
To complicate matters, around this time I had to start work on the Kemubu Irrigation Scheme in Kelantan, the contract for which I had clinched earlier. Supervising and co-ordinating the two projects at the same time stretched my physical endurance to the limits. I shuttled between Kuala Lumpur and Kelantan. To me, there were no rest days on Sundays and public holidays. As always, I was project
manager, engineer, financial controller, labourer and trouble-shooter rolled into one. The good side of this was that I could save a lot of time making all the decisions without having to consult anyone.
I appeared frequently at jungle work sites, donning a bamboo-leaf hat like other workers and joining them in their work. I went home so often covered in mud that my domestic helpers could not help asking my wife whether I was working as a boss or a labourer.
We did meet the deadline and receive the promised RM900,000 subsidy, a big amount at that time and a great help to us. My whole vision for Genting Highlands depended on the successful completion of the access road.
