By Karen Bong
SATOK Suspension Bridge, the first and oldest “jambatan gantung” in Sarawak, stands today at 97-years-old. This bridge is more than just a physical structure that links two river banks—it’s an integral part of Kuching City’s soul, a symbol of identity and pride and a testament to the legacy of this vibrant community. It would be near impossible to imagine this city without it.
Nicknamed the ‘Yellow Bridge’ or ‘San Francisco Bridge’, this old bloke was built in the midst of the colonial era in 1926 to carry water pipelines across the Sarawak River to quench the thirst of Kuching with water from the Matang Reservoir. No one could have known then that its destiny would be intertwined with countless lives, and its purpose become more than just a conduit for water.
It was constructed at a cost of $52,000, incorporating steel and timber decking spanning and supported by concrete-mounted steel pylons, as well as the life of a labourer rumoured to have been claimed by the spirits of the bridge.
Suspended 18 metres above the river and spanning an impressive 700 feet with a roadway stretching 7 feet wide in its early days, it stands as a silent witness to the ebb and flow of time, connecting the north and south banks of Kuching both physically and emotionally. For many who have walked across its wooden planks, this bridge is more than a mere structure—it’s a lifeline that has changed lives and shaped destinies.
Its foundations have supported countless journeys, from eager students seeking knowledge to traders forging new paths, from lovers sharing stolen moments beneath moonlit skies to workers finding their purpose.
However, wear and tear eventually took their toll, prompting the authorities to close the bridge to traffic in 1992 due to safety concerns. In the fateful October of 2004, a violent storm brought the bridge down—the pillars endured, but the steel cables surrendered, and the bridge succumbed to the river’s embrace.
Yet, under the stewardship of then Chief Minister (now Sarawak Premier) Datuk Patinggi Abang Johari Tun Openg, the resurrection of the bridge began in 2017. It was meticulously reconstructed in accordance with British Standards, spanning 213 metres and stretching 3 metres wide. After its completion in March 2021, it was opened to the public in November of the same year. A closure followed for decorative lighting installations, culminating in a resplendent reopening on July 15 of this year.
As it stands on the cusp of a century, let us journey through history’s pages to witness the evolution of this enduring structure that has intricately weaved Kuching’s yesteryears into its present.
A glimpse into the past
W.J. Chater in his book “Sarawak Long Ago” revealed that plans for a bridge were already in motion as far back as 1902, coinciding with the Matang Reservoir’s construction to provide Kuching with water. The proposed bridge was to carry the pipeline across the Sarawak River.
Despite lacking technical expertise, the Second Rajah Sir Charles Brooke’s vision for the bridge involved transporting stones from Sejingkat, near the river’s mouth which was the sole source of supply at that time, and stacking them atop markers to form supports and bolster an iron framework crowned with a wooden pathway.
Despite engineers’ warnings of an unstable foundation, the Rajah persisted. His engineers faced an arduous task in convincing him that his plan was unworkable, advocating instead for a suspension bridge. However, the Rajah remained obstinate, fearing that a suspension bridge would sway and cause damage to the pipeline joints.
With a stalemate between the Rajah’s desired design and the proposed suspension bridge, a compromise emerged—the water pipes were submerged on the riverbed.
It took a staggering 24 years, spanning nine years beyond the old Rajah’s passing, for the bridge to come to fruition.
The task of conceptualising and executing the bridge fell to A.S. Lowe, an engineer within the Public Works Department and the younger sibling of director C.P. Lowe. The blueprint centred on accommodating two 12-inch rising mains, complete with a walkway for pedestrians, cyclists, motorcyclists, and small vehicles.
However, once water began coursing through the pipes, immediate apprehension arose due to the excessive weight, causing the towers to shift from their intended upright positions. This necessitated an ongoing process of adding stones to the anchorages at both ends, a procedure that persisted until the substantial piles observed today resolved the issue.
“The bridge must have its head!”
During the bridge’s construction in the 1920s, an unsettling tale circulated—whispered rumours claimed that sacrifices were necessary to placate the spirits dwelling beneath the structure. According to Alice Yen Ho in her book “Old Kuching,” this practice was a remnant of the past when slaves were buried under longhouses or bridge foundations, a custom that prevailed until slavery’s abolition.
The unsettling whispers subsided after a labourer tragically drowned in the river, coincidentally debunking the unsettling tale.
Chater elaborated on the historical context: before Sarawak abolished slavery in 1886, a Dayak tradition known as “genselan” involved appeasing spirits by offering the blood of a live slave during the construction of new longhouses or bridges. The unfortunate slave would be placed in a hole, and the primary post rammed onto them.
However, according to Chater, when slavery ceased, alternative methods to appease the spirits were sought. This often led young men to become “penyamun” (bandits), venturing into the forest to ambush outsiders from different tribes to fulfil the demand for blood sacrifice. These victims’ heads were collected and discreetly placed in foundation holes to appease the spirits, all the while the practitioners fearing the Rajah’s retribution.
The decision to construct the suspension bridge thus triggered widespread alarm, not only in Kuching but across Sarawak. A swift rumour arose that “the bridge must have its heads to put under the foundations!”. Even among those who considered themselves above such rumours in Kuching, few dared to venture out after dark, leaving the streets deserted by 6pm.
The panic was more pronounced in the outlying areas. An assortment of tales took root, including one claiming that the government dispatched burly, bearded Sikh policemen at night to capture children for sacrifice beneath the bridge’s foundation.
Then, a twist of fate occurred. A labourer working on the foundations tragically drowned. As a result, it was believed that the bridge had received its required sacrifice, easing the tension that gripped the community.
However, after the bridge’s completion, a new wave of apprehension emerged due to two issues: the bridge’s swaying and the towers’ movement when the water mains were filled, signifying an excessive load. Another rumour began to spread that “The bridge is not satisfied. It wants more heads!”.
Uniting Kuching’s banks: From bridge to ferries to concrete marvel
In the 1950s and 1960s, minor repairs sustained the bridge as pedestrians and light vehicles treaded across it. However, by 1964, the introduction of a ferry service led to the bridge’s closure to traffic.
Elizabeth ST Lim shared a memorable incident in a post on the ‘Kuching Then and Now’ Facebook page. On her aunt’s wedding day, low tide halted the ferry, compelling the bridal entourage, adorned in frothy white, to stride across the suspension bridge.
Another social media user, Ummi Aimi, recalled a journey in 1970 as a six-year-old, utilising the ferry due to scarce car ownership, while Latifa Ali recounted traversing the bridge and crossing using the ferry daily for school.
Wilfred SM Sim vividly remembered the ferry’s role in transporting construction materials for Wisma Bapa Malaysia, as he witnessed loaded lorries queuing at the ferry point to board the ferry to Petra Jaya.
Before the Satok Suspension Bridge’s completion, Sarawak River transportation dominated commutes and leisure, uniting the disjointed north and south banks of Kuching.
Alice Yen Ho in the book “Old Kuching” shared that the river harboured those ‘mischievous alligators’, some up to five metres long. The Sarawak Gazette in 1878 reported that among 266 captured crocodiles, 153 hailed from the river, with the Rajah as the supreme ruler then said to have sentenced the ‘murderers’ to death.
The north and south banks finally united through the 900-foot Datuk Patinggi Haji Abdul Rahman Ya’kub Bridge, soaring across the Sarawak River at Satok. This gateway to the Council Negri Complex and Petra Jaya township stands as Sarawak’s largest bridge, its $6 million cost driven by groundbreaking prestressed concrete technology. Four lanes, each with a 12-foot carriageway and flanked by a 6-foot pedestrian-cyclist path, define this engineering marvel.
A lifeline of connections
Many residents, especially the older generation, have memories of crossing the bridge daily. The iconic bridge restoration over the Sarawak River brings back the riverine landmark to its former glory and nostalgic past.
Local communities living nearby feel liberated as this vital link is reestablished—a restored lifeline across the river once again—despite many other ways to cross nowadays.
Author Heidi Munan in “Sarawak Historical – Landmarks” highlights the old wooden roadway’s significance for pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes and even the unique ‘mosquito buses’.
According to James Yong, author and creator of the “Kuching Then and Now” Facebook page, the earliest bus, nicknamed the “mosquito bus” could hold 7 to 11 people and was smaller than a mini-bus. In the early 1900s, it graced Kuching’s roads, and elders share that it was allowed to cross the Satok Suspension Bridge. Passengers, however, had to disembark and walk behind it during crossings. This service was operated by Kuching Matang Transport Co.
Among others sharing their memories in the ‘Kuching Then and Now’ Facebook page, Mahmud Yussop recalled the bridge as the only way he could bring his scrambler across the Sarawak River in 1978 and ride about 10 miles daily to send his wife who taught at Sekolah Agama Sheikh Haji Othman Abdul Wahab situated at the end of Matang Road.
The outgoing Kuching North City Hall (DBKU) Mayor Datu Junaidi Reduan, who hails from Kampung Gita in Petra Jaya, shared that in his younger days, the bridge was the fastest way to cross the river.
“People of all ages and all walks of life on both sides of the river practically used the bridge daily. So, there are a thousand and one tales to tell.
“For me, it was not only a bridge to get to both sides of the river but a bridge to my education and made me the person I am today.
“My advice is not to tarnish the image of the bridge but treat it with care as it is a public property. I hope there are no loafing and angling activities on the bridge as it could pose a danger,” he told DayakDaily.
For 66-year-old Pirus Bujang McPherson, the daily much-awaited ride pillion on his father’s Italian-made Vespa scooter by Piaggio across the bridge, is his most cherished memory.
In the 60s, young Pirus, whose family was one of three Eurasian families living in Kampung Gita, would at times never even realise he had reached the end of the bridge when enjoying his sweet 15 sen packed cordial drink.
Chung Hian Ping, owner and operator of Ling Loong Cafe at the open air foodcourt below the bridge since 1978, shared that the bridge held multiple roles for generations in the vicinity.
Hailing from Poh Kwong Park, the 63-year-old said during his younger days, the bridge was a place to loaf with friends after school and the weekends, a fishing spot, a dating spot and the way to cycle across to Matang areas.
“It was closed for a long time. When it reopened two months ago, it looked so beautiful and rekindled memories,” he added.
For those stepping onto the bridge for the first time, it offers an awe-inspiring, indelible, and picturesque river crossing experience like the day it was first built.
West Malaysian civil servant and holidaymaker, Yii Chee King, and his wife, who set foot for the first time on the bridge recently, described the experience as nothing short of awe-inspiring.
“I will share with friends in West Malaysia about this must-visit bridge in Kuching City,” he said.
Legendary leap of triumph
The historic bridge also holds a prominent role in a triumphant chapter of the once formidable Football Association of Sarawak (FAS). Legendary former FAS ‘Nyap Sayot’ coach Awang Mahyan Awang Mohamad made sure his name would be etched in history when he led half of his team and nearly 100 exuberant supporters to leap joyfully from the bridge into the river below.
This jubilant display followed Sarawak’s remarkable qualification for the Malaysia Cup semi-finals following their victory against Johor.
Amidst the fervor and excitement, this captivating event captured headlines and the people’s hearts, forever engraving itself in the collective consciousness of Kuchingites.
An enduring symbol of heritage and honour
As it enters its 97th year, let’s remember that the Satok Suspension Bridge is not merely a relic of the past, but a living monument that echoes our shared stories, dreams, and aspirations that bind us together as a community while continuing to shape the present and inspire the future.
Today, this iconic landmark continues to be a source of fascination and pride for the local community. It stands not just as a tourism attraction but also symbolises our cultural unity.
Standing on the iconic Satok Suspension Bridge offers an awe-inspiring experience that transcends time. As you find yourself suspended above the tranquil waters of the Sarawak River, the view that unfolds before you is nothing short of breathtaking. The vast expanse of the river stretches into the horizon, a seamless blend of water and sky that beckons you to immerse yourself in its beauty.
During the enchanting hours of sunset, the bridge becomes a front-row seat to a symphony of colours. The sky transforms into a canvas of vibrant hues—soft oranges, deep purples, and warm pinks—that playfully reflect on the river’s surface.
Adding to this picturesque scene is the majestic Mount Matang in the distance. The mountain stands as a sentinel, watching over the landscape with a sense of quiet grandeur. As the sun dips below the horizon, casting its golden light on the mountaintop, a serene and almost mystical ambiance takes hold.
The experience of witnessing this breathtaking vista from the Satok Suspension Bridge is one that etches itself into memory. It’s a moment of connection with both the natural world and the history that this bridge has witnessed over its 97 years.
With each sunset that paints the sky in vivid shades, the bridge reaffirms its role as a guardian of memories, a keeper of Kuching’s history, and a timeless link between generations. — DayakDaily
