ShareAfter two decades plunging Malaysian seas to defend his country, navy frogman Sumadi Ibrahim has retired to the golf course -- diving water hazards to retrieve mis-hit balls to make a living. For 22 years Sumadi served in the Royal Malaysian Navy, deployed aboard ships patrolling the shark-riddled waters off the Pacific archipelago.
Now as darkness falls, the 51-year-old roams the suburban fairways of Selangor state outside Kuala Lumpur, splashing into ponds as he hunts for balls sliced astray by day. On each expedition he collects between 500 and 600 -- selling his haul back to the same frustrated golfers who lost them.
With his seafaring days behind him, Sumadi could have chosen a more conventional life. But he could not resist the call of the deep -- even if the golf course ponds only go two meters (6.5 feet) down. “I’m used to being in the sea,” he said, a nostalgic smile softening his face.
Guided by moonlight
Sumadi first heard about the lucrative niche of “golf ball diving” in a casual conversation with friends.
Intrigued by the prospect, the father-of-three put his specialist skills to use -- entering the murky waters for the first time back in 2012. Since his 2014 retirement it has been his main source of income. Three nights every week, when the manicured greens are doused in darkness, Sumadi plunders the balls in a floral balaclava.
“I don’t bring along a flashlight. Only the moonlight is my source of light,” he chuckled. “I use my hands as ‘wipers’. When my hands and feet come into contact with a certain object, I’m able to tell whether it’s a ball or otherwise.”
Using no breathing equipment, he collects the balls by stuffing them down his long-sleeve shirt -- emerging from the water with them bunched and bobbling around his midriff. His current work may seem less risky than his military past, but it has its own set of challenges. The waters are cold and dark, testing both his physical endurance and mental resilience.
“The lakes often harbor palm thorns, debris and splintered shells of snails. The water is dark so I often step on them,” he said.
“I’m always worried about getting cramps. So to mitigate the risk, I hired a part-time assistant to keep watch while I dive,” he added. “If something happens, like I get stuck or injured, at least there’s someone to help me.”
His payday comes every Saturday when he sets up a modest stall at the golf course entrance at 8:00 am sharp, selling his wares in bundles of 20.
Displayed on a makeshift rack and in baskets, standard balls retail for as little as 0.70 ringgit ($0.16) each whilst premium brands fetch up to six ringgit ($1.35). Sumadi’s job earns him up to 8,000 ringgit ($1,800) each month -- nearly three times the median monthly salary of formally employed Malaysians, according to June data from the country’s statistics bureau.
Green diving
The sport of golf has long been criticized for its environmental impact -- clearing tracts of wildland to make way for lawns generally preserved for the elite and requiring huge amounts of watering.
Sumadi does not claim to be an environmentalist. But by removing thousands of golf balls containing plastic and rubber from the ecosystem he is making his own small contribution to sustainability. Among his customers is businessman Gilbert Tan, a regular player at the course where he dives.
“I have purchased used golf balls from him several times,” said 30-year-old Tan. “As you know, plastics are not really biodegradable. So with me purchasing recycled balls, I’m doing my part to help the environment,” he added.
Sumadi is modest about his impact but proud about presiding over his underwater domain. “I treat the golf course as my own home,” he says. “I’ll keep diving as long as I can.” — AFP
