Some time ago now, I read a book which contained a description of a woman who woke up to find that her hair had turned completely white while she slept. She wasn’t old, she’d experienced a shocking event (I can’t remember what) and that was how her body had reacted to it. It wouldn’t have surprised me if my hair had turned white the morning following Paul’s tousle with the trolley last week. Ok, maybe that’s a bit melodramatic but it was traumatic nevertheless. Paul’s very fond of saying ‘what could possibly go wrong’ in a kind of nose-thumbing gesture to tempting fate. As I looked at the mass of shopping and ‘stuff’ that was gathering in the car on our provisioning trip last Monday, I mentioned a few times that it would be a mammoth task getting it all from the car park and on to the boat. Although he didn’t tempt fate with the phrase above, Paul did state that it had ‘all gone very well’ as we parked up and prepared to unload our huge haul. This haul included ropes, sails and tools as well as provisions for a month at sea, because some of the islands we planned to visit didn’t have shops. We’d driven through the village of Ban Koh En on our way home, thinking it would probably be the last time we saw it. As we drove over the speed bumps on the road, the bottles in the boot rattled, and I heard thuds and rustles each time the car went over one, despite Paul driving very slowly. More speed bumps on the slip road leading to the marina car park meant the trays of glass bottles of soda water got a further shaking. Paul opened the boot and straightaway a tray of soda bottles fell to the ground with the sickening sound of smashing glass. This caused a group of people chatting on the pontoon to groan in sympathy and someone said ‘bummer’. I think they assumed it must have been beer because they all resumed their conversation when I told them it was water. Clearing up as best we could, we loaded the first trolley and got it down the steep slope from the gate to the pontoon. An item from one of the bags fell out as the trolley bumped on the bottom of the slope and rolled into the water. It turned out to be a plastic bottle of water which floated off before I could get to it, but we stopped to secure the other bags to prevent losing anything else! At the boat, we decided Paul should go back to the car and brush up any broken glass and load another trolley while I got on with stowing the shopping. I was absorbed in doing this and beginning to prepare something to eat when I heard Paul shout for me to come back to the car as quickly as possible. It sounded urgent and by the time I got out of the boat he was already running well ahead of me. I ran as fast as I could, keen to know what had happened. I saw him with three other people at the bottom of the sloping pontoon and I could tell from their body language that someone was hurt. I thought that was why he’d called me, to assist in some way but as I got nearer I saw Paul with his face covered in blood, and our friend Jack was urging him to get to a hospital. Then I caught sight of the trolley in the water and put together what must have happened. Still concerned about the shopping, Paul jumped back into the water to carry on pulling out bags before any of us could suggest it might not be a good idea to do that. It was a surreal experience watching him grab the wet bags and lunge them onto the pontoon, with his head dripping blood, and I was uncertain how badly he was injured. He told me how it happened while he was in the water and when I heard he’d been calling for help and nobody heard him I became very upset and subsequently useless in any practical way, especially when I got a closer look at the huge gash on top of his head. Jack’s wife and son helped get the trolley out and took it, laden with soggy carrier bags, to our boat while Jack and Paul went to see if a nurse that Jack knew was around. Paul had told me to go to the car and turn the lights off and when I’d done that, I realised I had no key to get back in so had to wait for Jack’s wife to come and open it.
I can only confirm what Paul related in his post about how great the staff at the hospital were. They were efficient and calm and so friendly and reassuring, despite the language barrier. We were in there for a couple of hours and once I knew Paul was going to be ok I sat in the treatment room watching the all-female staff treat a succession of people while we waited for Paul’s blood pressure to come down. Tomorrow we go back there to get the stitches removed, another blood pressure check, and then we can carry on with our trip. Despite the circumstances, this week of taking it easy has been a good chance to catch up on lighter jobs and to research the routes and the places we’re going to. After the hospital, we’re going to shop for more provisions and this time the trolley (and Paul) will remain on the pontoon. What could possibly go wrong!
Koh Racha and Koh Rang Yai, November 2016
Had we not already experienced the sublime beauty and delights of Rebak Island in October, I’m sure we would have declared Koh Racha the best island paradise we had visited so far, which is heartening in a way because of all the other places we’ll visit which may surpass those we’ve seen before. It’s a great motivation for moving on and is why I’ve come to love this nomadic lifestyle. Walking on the soft white sand of the beach on Racha after securing the dinghy to the jetty, we noticed that the beachfront was dominated by a huge luxury resort complete with an inviting-looking beach bar. A refreshing drink while looking out to sea was not to be, however. A resort employee stopped us on our way up the boardwalk that led to the bar to check if we were guests of the resort. As we weren’t we would have to wait until 6 to use the bar. Since that was a couple of hours away, we took a walk further inland to explore the village. Predictably tiny, it consisted of a few small shops, holiday bungalows, coffee shops and outdoor eateries. We also passed stagnant lakes, dilapidated shacks and a wooded area where water buffalo were grazing.
We stopped near a narrow stream for a while to watch a monitor lizard (or an alligator!) lumber along in the swampy undergrowth. Not many people were around and I felt the place lacked atmosphere so we headed back to the waterfront to seek out a place to eat. At the other end of the beach we could see what looked like a small bar or café set high in the rocks and thought we could get a drink there if nothing else. We walked up the roped pathway and came upon a delightful restaurant overlooking the sea. It was just beginning to get dark, and the lights (some of them Christmassy), the view across the bay and the warm sea breeze all combined to create a gloriously enchanting setting. Our table was right next to a beach with several rock pools, so as we ate we could watch crabs and other sea creatures going about their business. Definitely one of the most aesthetically pleasing restaurants I’ve ever dined at, and the food wasn’t bad either.
Next morning, Paul was keen for us to get away fairly early in order to avoid some predicted bad weather that afternoon. We were away by 7 30, drinking coffee and enjoying the early morning breeze in the cockpit. Again, there wasn’t a lot of wind so we used the engine for the four hour journey to Koh Rang Yai. Before settling on a spot to anchor, we spent an hour doing a circumference of the island, both to have a look and to decide on the best place to drop the anchor. The smaller island next to Rang Yai is called Koh Rang Noi, and we saw some intriguing looking buildings on it for such a tiny island. They looked like a resort complex that had either just been completed or had not long gone out of business – totally deserted and no sign of life anywhere, although we did spot some jet skis on its small beach.
All the action was clearly on Rang Yai which has considerably fewer buildings. From 1pm, when we anchored near its shore, we watched a succession of day tripper boats disgorging or collecting visitors sporting bright orange life vests. We waited until later in the afternoon to go ashore to avoid the hottest part of the day but it was still very humid which made us wary of biting insects around the freshwater ponds near the pathways. There is a pearl farm in operation which can be seen from the beach, and a rather incongruous swanky shop which doubles as a museum and sells products and jewellery made from the harvested pearls.
After browsing the pretty but pricey items in there for a while, we went for a walk along the beach and noticed that it had quite a lot of debris on it, most of which consisted of small brown, glass bottles- similar to the kind that are used for cough medicine! They littered the sand, and the sea was washing up more all the time – very strange. Before heading back to the boat we stopped for a drink at a beach bar and were entertained by a couple of the staff members dancing around to some ‘clubby’ music. Before long, some guys who’d been sitting drinking beers at tables further along had joined in and it looked as if a party might be about to kick off…except that the bar closed at 5pm and by 5 30 all was quiet again. I couldn’t help thinking how different it was to the beach bars along Barcelona’s coast. Here, you get the best of both worlds it seems because the tranquility on the beaches from early evening onwards is a definite bonus.
The tide had gone out quite a way by the time we reached the dinghy – so much so that it was almost possible to walk all the way to Sister Midnight. We carried the dinghy between us for some of the way which became tricky as the water got deeper and we struggled to maintain our balance, but it was good fun. I had to wait by it and keep it steady while Paul returned to the beach to retrieve our bags. Koh Rang Yai was our final destination before returning to Yacht Haven Marina the following day to prepare for the trip back to the UK for Christmas, so we spent the evening musing about where we might go when we returned in January. Phang Nga Bay has lots of great things going for it and Giles had enthused about ’The Hongs’ there during our conversations with him. As we made plans I reflected how I had never even heard of these places a year ago, and how pre and post-Christmas months had habitually been cold, dark and busy with work, commuting and looking forward to warmer, longer days. This life couldn’t be more different. I love it.