MANY EYES HAVE BEEN CAUGHT BY THE GRITTY STREET PHOTOGRAPHY OF WORDSMANIFEST, AND SARAH REES CAUGHT UP WITH THE MAN BEHIND THE PEN NAME TO DISCOVER JUST WHY HE LOVES TO CAPTURE THE CITY OF KL AT STREET LEVEL.

Azwan Mahzan is a city boy through and through. Having been born and bred in KL, he is old enough to have seen it change, and to begin to develop those first pangs of nostalgia for a city that is disappearing under the waves of modernity. Perhaps it is this that sends him to the streets, with his camera in tow, looking to capture raw and gritty moments of city life.

"It's not to say that the Twin Towers have never been interesting to me, of course they are," says Azwan, or WordsManifest, as he fashions himself, "but there are other things in KL that are not only overlooked, but in danger of disappearing. I'm not talking about heritage buildings, per se, but even just certain ways in which people interact with KL are disappearing. Things like that need to be captured, need to be preserved. Not just things and places, but things people do."

Azwan describes himself as a street photographer, and his photos are everything that title suggests: gritty, honest, and offering a less clinical, more artistic view of the capital. His pictures capture something of the spirit of the city, as well as serving to satisfy his endless curiosity about his home. "KL is a transitory place, so I always wonder why people are in KL. Of course I can see what they're doing, but how did they get there?" His own history with KL is fairly straightforward. His parents moved down from the northern states to the capital before he was born, and he grew up in a house on the grounds of the Royal Selangor Golf Club where his father worked, trailing after his Dad as his completed his rounds. "One of his duties was to document the grounds," explains Azwan. "He had this old camera and he handed it to me just to keep me quiet. So I suppose that's where my photography interest comes from."

Photography wasn't something that seized him or enveloped his life – "I just figured it was something everyone did," he says with a laugh. After he put down the camera of his childhood, the interest lay dormant until his twenties and he began studying at design school, where his struggles with drawing storyboards led him to pick up a camera as a way of capturing what he wanted to say.

Only this time he didn't put it down. Now, after years of experience with a whole host of magazines, he works as a photo editor in a local media house – "that's my bread and butter" he says – while he spends his weekend prowling the streets with his camera in hand.

His eye for shots and his talent at capturing an ordinary sight in an extraordinary way is evident from a mere glance at his creations, but for Azwan it is not just about the finished product. He has found solace behind the lens of a camera, and it is a way for him to express himself when his inhibitions rein him in.

"I'm pretty shy," he admits, "and when I was younger, I didn't speak clearly; it was a struggle to get my point across, so I found other ways of expressing myself."

Photography was just one of his means of expression – although he turned out to be rather good at it – while his other outlets are music and writing, which satisfied his natural creativity as well as providing an opportunity to hide behind a pseudonym and a persona. As WordsManifest, Azwan writes music and performs with a local hip hop band called "The Rebel Scum," as well as penning columns for a popular local magazine.

"I am a bit more comfortable with it all as WordsManifest," he says, "Azwan Mahzan is not a very outgoing person, so I set up a brand. Other people do it too; I appreciate Iggy Pop wasn't born with that name."

His quick wit reveals a sharp mind behind the shy frontage, and his creative achievements stand testament to the talent that has been allowed to blossom and that enables him to capture the capital is interesting ways.

While the city changes at a lightning pace, Azwan is determined to keep going to his usual haunts to preserve what he views as the more "sincere" locations of the fast-modernising city. "I go to places like Chow Kit," he says, "because there is less pretence. No one is making any bones about why they're there. They are not there to be seen; they are there because this is where they live, where they get paid, where they do their shopping."

And weekend wanderings around certain, less-salubrious parts of town can prove to be just as fraught with dangers as expeditions into the jungles if he doesn't take care. "I was taking a photo of a toy shop – it was just a picture of a store front – but the man thought I was taking his picture and working for the police, so he chased me down the road!"

However, Azwan generally finds people to be gracious and polite, and he explores the warren of downtown KL with ease.

"KL is very untidy but it's not dangerous," he says, "If you don't impose too much, people just leave you alone."

Does he have worries that the KL he loves will no longer be here in twenty years? Like the creative man he is, he answers my question with a metaphor. "It's like you commit yourself to a relationship and you have no idea how your partner is going to be in five or ten years," he says carefully, "but you're in it for the long haul, so you just stay."

DAY ONE
We started our journey by sailing from Singapore to Kukup, and I was skipper for this short leg. After getting our passports and visas sorted we motored slowly out of Raffles marina and into the narrow straits separating Singapore from Malaysia (near the new causeway to Johor).

The Singapore maritime patrol boats kept a close eye on us until we had cleared this channel and changed our course to 230 degrees, which was to be our heading for the next ten miles. After crossing the 30-m contour line we kept a lookout for a green light flashing every three seconds on our starboard side, which, according to the chart, was about five miles away.

This light signalled the entrance to the Kukup port, a port that proved to be much shallower than the chart datum indicated. At one stage we touched the soft muddy bottom but, by turning to starboard, we found enough depth to make our way slowly into port. Once we reached the extensive fish farms between Kukup town and the large mangrove island, the depth increased.We followed this channel down until we could edge our way through the farms, and we anchored on the islandside of the fish farms.

Kukup is renowned as the place for fresh seafood on the south western tip of peninsular Malaysia. Seafood is plentiful, and there are many waterside restaurants on stilts to satisfy locals' and visitors' culinary wishes. We launched Doris, Kay Sira's dinghy, and went into town for one of Kukup's famous seafood dinners and a few beers.

DAY TWO
The next morning we visited Pulau Kukup, one of the largest mangrove islands in the world, where we found an attractive boardwalk leading to a lookout over the extensive mangroves. We spotted a lot of bird life, including beautiful whitebreasted sea eagles and Brahminy kites, and we also glimpsed a wild boar rooting around for a feed, some monkeys, and many bug-eyed mudskippers.

On our departure, Lee and Frazer had the job of retrieving and cleaning the anchor chain which was covered in thick mud. This took some time as it all had to be done manually, but when we finally set off, we were travelling north from Kukup to Melaka, about 90 nautical miles away. Very calm weather would allow us to motor-sail all day and overnight, and so our ETA was set for early the following morning.

Barry offered to cook bangers and mash for dinner, so we duly enjoyed a great meal of fried sausages with Barry's special onion sauce (I think a bit of everything went into this tasty concoction), mashed potatoes, and stir-fried vegetables. After a nice cup of tea, we began keeping watches; three hours on and three hours off, from 2030 hours onwards.

DAY THREE
It was an uneventful journey and we arrived at the Melaka marina at 0730. The water depth here was shallow, so we had to take care, staying to the left of the port marker just outside the marina. As this was our first official port of call in Malaysia we had to undergo customs and visa formalities with the local authorities. We decided to have a day off from sailing in Melaka as we realised that it was St Patrick's Day. We passed the day re-provisioning for the next leg of our journey, enjoying some good deals on draught beer, and eating some excellent food before returning to the marina relatively early in anticipation of another early start the next day.

DAY FOUR
We departed Melaka at 0700 at the top of the high tide, raising all of our sails as soon as we were clear of the marina and motoring on in very light winds for 1.5 miles at 190 degrees. We started our three-hour watches at 0730 hours, with Barry and me taking the first watch. We managed to sail beautifully in a freshening NNE breeze for the better part of three hours.

The trip up the coast was just magical. There was a lot of storm activity over the land, but no bad weather at sea. We passed numerous fishing vessels, some of which put out very long nets which they guarded zealously lest we catch them on our keel or propeller.

At dusk, we put two reefs in the mainsail for safety's sake and motor-sailed north until, at 2130 hours, we reached the southern entry channel to Pelabuhan (Port) Klang.This was the sailing school classroom come to life! For the next three and a half hours we saw every ship's light and navigation mark light imaginable, and a lot of traffic. I was surprised at just how fast the big ships travel when entering and leaving port – three or four times faster than us! We also marvelled at the constant hustle and bustle of tugs-in-tow, containers and cargo vessels, pilot boats, and many other vessels going about their business.

This was a very exciting and somewhat stressful time for me. I was skippering a lovely yacht in the midst of an incredible cacophony of shipping in a strange port. I had to rely only on my pilotage notes, various charts of the area in different scales and detail, our instruments, navigation markers, and the entire crew on deck as lookouts.

A pilot boat went past us and had a good look at us with his searchlight, which added to the excitement! With almost continuous course changes and the need to keep a sharp lookout for the next pertinent navigation mark, we were all kept busy until, finally, the Royal Selangor Yacht Club hove into view, albeit in total darkness due to a local blackout.

I took the helm after a big pat on the back for Lee and adopted the ferry-gliding technique, using the strong current to assist us to berth safely. Once we were safe, sound, and securely berthed outside the RSYC, we all had a nice, hot cup of tea before slipping into our beds. Mission accomplished.