Month: March 2017

We are working our way south, and seem to be encountering some very nice beach resorts on the way.We came to this island, Ko Muk, mainly to see “The Emerald Cave” which is actually a hong, accessible via an 80 metre long tunnel. Normally you have to swim in, but we were lucky to catch the tides right and get in with the dinghy.

Once in it was quite spectacular, a lovely sandy beach with trees growing all up the vertical walls. The Emerald bit was lost on me, must be my colour blindness, but Kathy understood.

I made a short vid of the trip.

 

Later we sat on the beach and watched the sun set behind sister Midnight. I was hoping the other beach goers taking pictures were thinking, ‘how lovely to see the sun set behind such a classic stylish yacht’, but they were probably thinking, ‘shame about the yacht getting in the way!.

Tomorrow, Saturday, we head for Koh Nok, a three hour sail I hope, then on Sunday a 6-8 hour sail to the Butang island group, and the island of Ko Lipe, for a few days, then a day sail into N Langkawi, Malaysia.

Paul Collister

 

 

Friday 24th Feb

By 10 30 we were motoring away from Koh Panyee with the mainsail up, the intention being to head straight for Koh Phanak, the island we had first visited when we began our Phang Nga Bay excursion earlier in the month. Looking at the map, however, I noticed we would be passing near to Koh Khai and remembered it as a place that was highly recommended in the Hong guide that Jack had given us. Paul made a quick course change and we arrived there at midday. Koh Khai is shaped a bit like a snail when looked at from a distance and the nearer we got to it the prettier it looked.

The guide stated that we might need to swim into the Hong, which was fine by me as I was really feeling the effects of the heat by then. Paul rowed us over to it while filming and commentating with the GoPro which is proving to be a great asset for recording events and places. It became clear as we got closer that small and low as it was, we would be able to take the dinghy under the rock entrance and right on to the tiny beach. Once inside, it was deliciously cool and we could see that this fabulous little Hong with very steep sides was similar to the ones we’d seen before, except this one was in miniature! We parked the dinghy and waded into the clear water for a swim and a closer look at the amazing rock features above our heads. As it was such a pretty and peaceful spot, and we were in no great hurry to reach Phanak we stayed a while longer and had lunch when we returned to the boat.  The heat hadn’t abated by the time we set off again so I sat on deck to get as much of the breeze as possible for the rest of the journey to Koh Phanak.  There aren’t many anchorages around Phang Nga Bay that don’t have a picturesque view and our next one was no exception. Paul went out in the dinghy to check out the area for our visit the next day. There were several kayakers with guides exploring the caves and the coastline. It’s always useful to watch them because the guides know the locations of the entrances of the Hongs and the best and safest times of day to enter regarding tides.

Sat 25th Feb

At 10am with the sun already hot but with an accompanying cool breeze, we set out in the dinghy to look at our final Hong of the trip. The choppy water made for a bit of a bouncy ride but it was lovely to sit gazing at the beauty of the scenes around us. People on the kayak in front of us were pointing and smiling at something on the cliff’s ledges which it turned out to be a solitary monkey who was doing a pretty good imitation of us gawping at it! It sat and stared blatantly back at all of us watchers with our phones and cameras aimed at it, completely unfazed. A bit further on, Paul slowed the dinghy so that I could photograph two more who looked like they were having a chat on their ledge. We got fairly close and I grew alarmed by the look on their faces, convinced they were going to jump into the dinghy with us, much to Paul’s amusement.

The tide was quite high by 11am and the Hong entrances didn’t look as though they could take a dinghy. We did, however, spot a cave that looked promising – dark and low and twisty, but promising. In we went. I had to use the flashlight on my phone as we went further in because we’d forgotten to bring a torch. There was an extremely pungent smell inside – musty and slightly sulphurous but at least the walls were dry, and I used them to push us away from some of the jagged rocks in the shallow water. It was exhilarating even when it was dark in front and behind us. Paul rowed when the water got deeper and we saw a glimmer of light ahead but the roof was so low we almost had to lie flat at one point. When we reached the light we could see that it wasn’t a Hong, more a cavern with a slit in the roof. Paul swam a bit further on while I held the dinghy steady with a rope attached to an overhanging rock. He was only gone for a minute but it felt eerie sat there alone…in the darkness…in total silence.  I was glad to hear him come back – he said it was a dead end but that it had been a thrilling swim. We had the current with us on the return trip and I positioned myself flat on the bow with the phone’s light to guide us back.

At midday we left Phanak and set the course for Yacht Haven Marina, but first we wanted to find somewhere nice to stop and anchor for lunch. With everywhere as far as the eye could see looking gorgeous, there was a vast choice on offer. After picking out Koh Wa Yai, we anchored off its coast and dinghied ashore for a walk. It’s not a resort, but luxury holiday bungalows are advertised for £25 a night and we’d spotted people on the beach and children playing on swings so we hoped that there might be a beach bar or café there. There wasn’t, so we had a short ride along the coast to have a nose at the accommodation (elegant chalet-style bungalows, an ideal place for an away from it all break).

After lunch on board we motored on to Yacht Haven and anchored outside the marina at about 5 30. The Deck bar beckoned before sunset, so back in the dinghy for a drink there and then on to Mama Papa’s restaurant for dinner. It’s definitely the best place I’ve eaten at in Thailand and each time we’ve been it’s been busy, mainly with yachties of all nationalities. It’s always the same friendly lady who cooks the meals, and she often takes the orders too! She does an amazing job, helped by only a few other family members. A varied choice of meals are freshly cooked in a small open kitchen, so the chips I have there – with a spicy cashew salad – are delicious, and a welcome change from the ‘fries’ most places serve.  We had to navigate our way back to Sister Midnight using my phone as a torch again in case other dinghies were heading out from between the boats and pontoons. Back to a berth on the marina pontoon tomorrow.

Sunday 26th Feb

It wasn’t until 2 o’clock that we weighed anchor and were guided to our pontoon by staff on a marina dinghy. It was very calm, so berthing was easy and we wasted no time getting connected to power and water and wifi. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting the boat shipshape and catching up on internet stuff. Later Paul went to check us in and I took a huge bag of laundry to the marina facilities at the top of the hill. Paul had lots of computer work to catch up on in the evening and I had a bit of reading to do ;). Inevitably we both fell asleep in the cabin, waking up in the early hours to walk the half dozen steps to bed. Almost time to check out of Thailand and begin the leisurely journey back to Malaysia.

Kathy

Not really, but we did do some practising.

We left Phi Phi Le, the setting of “The Beach Movie” on Monday 6th, I was glad to be away, a lovely location, but totally spoilt by the hordes of visitors, in contrast, we arrived at Ko Yum, a 4 hour motor away to find deserted beaches, with very tasteful resort chalet nestled in the trees. We like it here so much we have decided to stay a few days, before sailing south. The wind has gone away this week, 5 knots, and we are anchored just off a lovely beach in 5 mtrs of water.
I have been doing boat chores, and today I rigged up the danbuoy and lifebuoy in their designated spots at the stern of the boat. I manufactured holders for the danbuoy from plastic piping bits I bought in the hardware superstore. These are devices that are thrown to a man overboard to help in his survival and recovery. The danbuoy is basically a floating flagpole with a flag and light on the top, however ours is without the light at present. The lifebuoy is what you grab hold of to stay afloat, that comes with a very modern flashing light, automatically activated when it hits water.
So once it was all fitted in an easily accessable spot, I threw myself over the back of the boat shouting “Man Overboard” and waiting in the icy treacherous waters for help 😉
Kathy chucked the lot over and I was saved. Let’s hope we never need to do that for real.

Kathy loves the ramshackle beach bars here, it’s a very chilled spot.

Tomorrow, a short hop down the coast to Ko Lanta, then a larger hop down to Ko Tarutao and the Butang group of islands.

 

Paul Collister

Thursday 23rd Feb

It was hard to believe we were anchored when I woke up this morning – it had been such a calm, still night there was no movement at all on the boat. I was up at 6 30, in the cockpit with the binoculars watching the bats soaring above the peaks of the Hong in the early morning light. When Paul got up around 7 30 he said it was time to get going – this happened to coincide with our neighbours on the catamarans doing a jolly morning workout routine: facing each other from the decks of their boats, they sang and chanted whilst dancing and exercising and cheering each other on. We weighed anchor and moved on.

For most of the morning, the autohelm and I took on the steering and watching while Paul tried to get a signal to send his work reports.

We were heading for a small Muslim fishing village called Panyi which has quite a fascinating history. Two families from Java, Indonesia set out at the end of the 18th century to seek a suitable place to settle and make a living from fishing. It was agreed that whoever found such a spot first would raise a flag to alert the others, which is how the village came to be called Panyi (panyi means flag). All the families living there today are said to be descended from those original settlers. We had read up about it and looked at images online. It looked an incredible place – a village built on tall wooden stilts at the foot of a limestone cliff and boasts a market, souvenir shops, seafood restaurants and a notable mosque.  As we got nearer to it a longtail boat followed us from behind until it was close enough for the guy at the helm to gesture that he would show us where to anchor. We weren’t sure if we had a choice or not, and he led us to somewhere different from where we’d intended to drop it, but there were fishing buoys around and he may have been keen for us to avoid nets so we stopped where he’d indicated. The area was full of other longtails and motorboats carrying visitors to and from the piers of the village. It’s a popular destination to visit for lunch in the seafood restaurants or an afternoon of browsing the stalls.  After we had anchored the guy in the longtail drew alongside to tell us he would take us ashore and guide us around the village (for a fee, naturally). He didn’t really want to take no for an answer until I made the universal sign for sleep and even then he said he’d come back later.

We wanted to wait until all the day visitors had departed anyway.  He returned as promised at 4 o’clock just as were getting ready to go across. He got the message when he saw the dinghy but we thanked him for the offer and had a friendly chat with him about the village.

It was short hop across to the visitors’ jetty and some small boys came running up, eager to help Paul tie it up. I was struck by how flimsy the structure seemed as we walked off the pier and into the ‘streets’. The stilts are wooden and are sunk into thick, smelly mud teeming with all kinds of wriggling creatures. I couldn’t help thinking how awful it would be to topple in; the walkways are fairly narrow, often with no barriers on the sides.

Luckily there was no risk of being jostled because all the day visitors had gone and we seemed to be the only visitors there. This fact made me feel slightly awkward because it felt like we were gawping at people’s houses at times, especially as you could see right inside to their living area while walking by. The central part of Koh Panyi is a concrete floor that connects to a row of tiny souvenir shops, and from there a narrow maze of uneven planks leads to the villagers’ wooden homes.  It would be easy to become disorientated in the network of walkways and small shops, all of which sell gifts such as tee shirts, batiks and handmade items made of shells and coconut shells.

Away from the centre, the space opens up between the wooden houses and you can see the seafront where all the restaurants are…but the smell lingers. We ambled around the souvenir stalls, had a look at the grand and gleaming mosque but were unable to go inside because only Muslims can enter it, and then on to the floating football pitch, built out of bits of wood and fishing rafts by local children back in 1986. Football is popular here despite the confined space, and we saw a group of boys playing it underneath the cliff.  We had intended to eat here but we weren’t hungry enough and as it looked as if it was about to bucket down with rain, Paul was keen to get back to Sister Midnight in case the anchor dragged. The dinghy trip back was a wet one: the heavy shower and a strong wind started just as we were getting in it, and we felt quite cold by the time we reached the boat (feeling chilled really is a novelty here). The anchor had held well despite the strength of the squall – we hadn’t moved an inch. Some more pics below of Koh Panyi Village.

Yes it continues, lovely unspoilt beaches, crystal clear waters, relaxing sails, blah blah blah. Nothing really exciting to report.

We spent Thursday in Phuket town, checking out and picking up spares for the trip, we restocked at a few stores on food and drink, and went to immigration, Harbour Master and Customs to check out. Back to the boat, and a very low spring tide, so everything was exactly the same as the last time we loaded up the boat bringing the trolley down a very steep ramp to the pontoons, however this time I stayed out of the water. One thing I realised, is that as I fell backwards into the water, I pulled on the trolley to try to stop myself falling, and that’s what helped bring it onto my head. I should have pushed it away from me, that way I would just have got wet and the trolley may have stayed ashore. I wonder how fast your brain would have to work to suss that out in the split second you have. Obviously faster than my old grey matter.

So Friday morning we left early on slack water, 3 hours before high tide, and headed off to Ko Yao, a big island with a few villages and had a lovely overnight stop, Saturday we left early without going ashore and continued straight on to Phi Phi Dom, arriving an hour or two before sunset.

We were lucky to pick up a mooring buoy here, as anchoring is difficult, the waters very deep off the coast, and is sandy, which isn’t the best for anchors, they prefer mud. also as the water gets shallow, there is lots of coral you could damage, or even get your anchor stuck under. I have a system ready to deploy when I drop they anchor, that will allow me to get a stuck anchor out, but I haven’t tried it yet.

We are here primarily so Kathy can visit ‘The Beach’. If you don’t know what ‘The Beach’ is , then you’re probably not a Leanordo fan. It’s going to be very crowded, but it has to be done. Later today I hope we can scoot across the rest of phang Nga bay to Ko Yum, just off the mainland Thai coast where we continue our journey south to Malaysia.

I have some good footage of fish I shot yesterday with the goPro, will try to edit that up.

As far as our position goes, there is little AIS coverage on the internety around here, but I self report to Marine Traffic via my mobile phone each day and on passage. If you want the latest position, check us out here.

AIS Position details here

The Autohelm is behaving well since I fixed the rudder feedback, so fingers crossed. Everything else is working well. so All’s good here in Paradise 😉

 

 

Monday 20th February Krabi to Koh Dam Hok

We had to wait until the tide was right before leaving Krabi so it was late afternoon when we got to the fuel dock to refill for the passage.  Anyone fed up with me relating how hot it is yet? Well…it was hot and very humid too so once we were out of the river and back out on the shallows it was such a tonic to feel the sea breeze on our skin. The mudbanks were much more visible on the return trip but Paul was more confident this time and we made it across much quicker, with no threat of going aground.  Paul chose a great place to stop for the night, just as the light was beginning to fade. Several mooring buoys were available near the small, charming island of Koh Dam Hok. Through the binoculars I could make out a long strip of white sand and what might be a ranger’s hut. A few longtail boats were anchored near it but it clearly wasn’t the busy thoroughfare for marine traffic we’d experienced at Ao Nang, which we could see lit up in the distance.  I picked up a mooring buoy (have I mentioned that I can do this pretty skilfully now ;)) and we were securely tied on to it before sundown – in fact we sat on deck in the cool evening air to watch the sun set and as it was such a clear night we lingered up there until it was full dark, enjoying the peace and the starlit sky… such are the simple pleasures of this sailing life 🙂

Tuesday 21st February Koh Hong

The security of the mooring buoy and the serene location proved to be ideal conditions for a deeper and longer sleep. However, I was glad to be up in time to see the sunrise when Koh Dam Hok was revealed in all its glory: shades of green from the dense forest behind the spotless white sand, a turquoise sea and a clear blue sky, were all enhanced by the pinkish early morning sunlight. I could have admired it for ages. Paul went for a swim after breakfast to check the condition of the hull and we slipped our mooring at 10 o’clock to journey to Koh Hong. We were able to have the sails up for a while during this passage, although it’s never long before they start flapping and the engine is turned on again. I keep forgetting to mention that the fishing line is usually trailing behind us on these trips (once, it even caught a juicy bit of seaweed).

At 1 30 we arrived at Koh Hong and after sussing out that there were once again plenty of free mooring buoys, we motored around the triangular-shaped island for a better look at it.  One side was quite lively: two long beaches with lots of day visitors and associated longtail boats. The water was busy with divers, swimmers, snorkelers and kayakers. Round the corner was a smaller, more peaceful beach with fewer vessels so that’s where we (I) picked up a mooring buoy after we’d been round the whole coastline. This is flagged as another ‘must see’ Hong and it was easy to see why.  The binoculars showed steep, rust-coloured stripy cliff sides, surreal rock formations, sea caves and intriguing creeks and inlets. Add to those the gorgeous beaches, lush vegetation and the awe-inspiring Hong itself, and this Hong’s got the lot! The day visitors begin to leave from about 4pm so we waited until 4 30 for our dinghy trip. Our first stop was a cave behind the trees on the beach which could have come straight out of the kind of Enid Blyton adventure stories I devoured as a child. It was dark and eerie inside. I couldn’t see any bats – lots of stalactites and stalagmites and dark corners dripping with water though. Paul went further in but it didn’t lead to another Hong so we left and dinghied round the corner to the main one.

Taking the dinghy into the Hong’s lagoon was delightful (to begin with). It’s huge, and I kept seeing beautiful blue birds flying off the branches of the trees on the sides of it. My mission then was to get a picture of one of them. Part of the enjoyment of being inside a Hong is the tranquil setting, the bird calls, spotting wildlife and taking in all the nature on display.  The general advice is that outboards should be turned off when inside in order not to disturb the wildlife and to respect the surroundings. It’s nice to row around it in a leisurely manner anyway. Pictures from inside Koh Hong below.

Unfortunately, despite almost having it to ourselves, we were subjected to calls and screeches of a human kind when a motorboat carrying about a dozen tourists (either French or Russian) entered the lagoon and began whooping and cheering and jumping in the water, and then compounded the rudeness by playing loud, ghastly Eurotrash music. I was seething with indignation and would have loved to let them know how ill-mannered they were (I tend to go into grumpy old woman mode a lot more frequently these days ;)). Anyway I know it wouldn’t have done a lot of good to confront them. I did manage to get a picture of one of the pretty blue birds on our way back to the boat though (it can just about be seen).

Wednesday 22^nd February Koh Roi

It’s a smoother and faster exit from a mooring buoy and not having to flake the anchor frees me up to get things tidied and sorted below. It doesn’t take long for the cabin to get cluttered and for items to go astray if the rule of ‘a place for everything and everything in its place’ isn’t adhered to :). We also need to keep up with charging phones and various other devices so we make the most of the power inverter while the engine is running. Up above, scenes straight out of the glossy pages of travel brochures were coming into view on the port side: golden beaches and palm trees with luxury holiday accommodation nestling in the jungle-like forest. There is nothing garish about these resorts, the buildings blend in with the surroundings and they are designed so that it never becomes too crowded.

We arrived at Koh Roi at about 2pm and decided we would visit this Hong earlier. From our anchorage we could see the arched, cave-like entrance to the Hong and looking through the binoculars I could see that people were stooping underneath it to get in. Paul checked the tides and worked out that 3 30 would be a good time to visit. As luck would have it, it looked as if the beach was deserted as we approached on the dinghy. Looking around me I was struck by the sheer beauty of our surroundings. It’s hard to describe in words, I think the pictures convey it well, but it’s the very size of the rocks, and their solid, molten shapes that look almost too crafted to be natural that inspire such awe. Travel writer Thomas Swick sums it up well in an excerpt from his book, The Joys of Travel: And Stories That Illuminate Them:

No technology can replace the visceral experience of arriving in a new place, the moment when you step out of an airport, or off a ship, and subject yourself—body, mind and heart—to a strange land. You’re attuned to everything: the sights, the sounds, the smells, the textures, very soon the tastes.

Leaving the dinghy on the beach we headed straight for the cave, sweating profusely from the heat and humidity and when we stepped into that Hong I did indeed subject myself body, mind and heart to the strange environment before us. The first thing that hit me was how gorgeously cool it was in the dim cavern after the searing heat. Then I noticed the mangrove trees, their dry roots on show without the water we usually see covering them. I was aware of screeching noises and assumed they were birds or monkeys. I kept looking down to paddle my way through the shallow, murky pools of water we had to negotiate to get further in.

 

When I looked up the sight that met me was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. The noise we heard came from bats – the fruit bats I had been so keen to spot, and there they were in the tall trees in the Hong, hundreds of them. Hanging upside down from the branches, their black wings were either wrapped around their bodies cocoon-like or stretched out as they opened them one at a time, but it was their dark beady eyes that fascinated me. Like portraits hanging on walls in stately homes where the eyes appear to follow you, each bat I looked at seemed to be staring back at me. The noise was deafening as we went further in. Strangely, it built up to reach a crescendo and then gradually subsided until it was almost silent before slowly building up again. I could have stood there for hours looking up into their cute furry faces. Picking our way over the rock strewn floor with its gnarled and tangled tree roots and swampy mud, this Hong was like a Gothic grotto, complete with a colony of bats. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in scenes from Harry Potter or Lord of The Rings. I loved it! More pics below but unfortunately the bats didn’t photograph very well.

Back onboard, we sat at the bow watching the people from the two catamarans that had anchored near us, swimming over to the Hong as the sun set. By then, the tide was in so far that it was impossible to see the arched entrance, but I could still hear the bats clearly.