Paradise Found

April 11, 2006

Looking for the less developed, we caught the 1:00 ferry for Ko Pha Ngan.  The hot traverse in the sun was pleasant but packed, and the Israelis sharing our benchseat struck up friendly conversation.  The hour long crossing brought us to Had Rin, the southernmost town and most developed, as well as the location of the world famous Full Moon Party in two days.  We caught a minibus, which took us to a sawngthew that brought us the rest of the way to Ao Thong Nai Pan Yai on the northeast corner of the island.  The drive was crowded and bumpy, but it afforded us some spectacular scenery, as we crossed through the dense jungle interior of the island, littered with bizarre, enormous boulders and occasional lookouts.  An hour and a half after departing Had Rin, we arrived at the paradise we had been looking for.

A Week on Ko Phangan

We walked through the sand along the crystal clear turquoise water, feeling quite overdressed in our long pants, shirts, and double backpacks.  We checked into our beachside bungalow and changed into our bathing suits for the remainder of our stay.

Walking along the beach, we kept stopping to pick up and examine the beautiful shells that lay in clumps, like colorful snowdrifts melting in the lapping waves.  Our footsteps fell alternately on damp sand and water, as we strolled with the tideline for a path.  The only way we knew when we were in the water was by the sound of the splash, since there was no noticeable temperature difference.  The bathtub warm water did not refresh so much as wet.  Decent, scrappy volleyball games were raging on two full courts along the way, and the sides were filled with an equal mix of locals and farang.  By the time we were on our way back, the colors had shifted from aqua blues to deepening purples spiked with electric orange clouds, and the music, a mix of Bob Marley and trance, seemed to throb a bit louder.  The heat began to radiate from the soft sand rather than beat down from above, and a delicious mixture of smells drifted past us on the breeze.  Charcoal was being readied for the night's barbecues, and last night's drippings were already making our mouths water.  Shadows of the coconut palms lining the beach crept out, and night fell as the fires burned brighter.

Beer Chang in hand, we explored the main and only road, which ran parallel to the beach behind the row of bungalow and restaurant clusters.  Mostly low-key bars, simple restaurants, and minimarts lined both sides, interspersed with a few homes.  Locals were welcoming and everyone was laid back on this remote side of the island, and we were happy to have found it.

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April 14, 2006

Loren's Birthday! The night of the 13th marks the entrance of the sun into the house of Aries, which Thais celebrate as Songkran (New Year), and this year coincided with the full moon.  Ko Pha Ngan is internationally famous for its Full Moon Party, held on Had Rin beach whenever it doesn't conflict with a Buddhist holiday (Songkran is based on Buddhist ideas, but is not technically a Buddhist holiday).  This party is often touted as the largest beach rave in the world, though this is arguable.

At around 9:00pm we boarded an overstuffed water taxi from our beach destined for Had Rin and were excited to be on our way.  The "cab" was an unstable, old longtail boat with about 35 people squeezed four to a row, as we sped south along the coast.  The chop was up and there were some light swells coming out of the northeast.  Each time we dipped down into a trough, the boat threatened to swamp, as the first trickles of the ocean crept over the gunnel.

The brilliant full moon was the only light for our journey, and the scout on the bow would occasionally signal directions to the skipper in the rear.  We skimmed along obsidian deep waters, and plowed through the moonlit crests of the waves, each one looking like a small snowcapped peak.  The wind blew the wet air against us, and our faces glistened in the silvery light.  It was a time to just be, but things like that never last.

As we rounded the last point and turned into the glowing and throbbing Had Rin bay, the motor cut out and the boat slowly drifted to a crawl.  At first we thought our driver was just joking with us, but it became clear that we had actually broken down just a couple of kilometers offshore.  Everyone was in good spirits, probably all a little drunk, as the skipper attempted to get the motor running again.  At first comments amongst the passengers were dripping with witty, sarcastic humor, though they quickly soured as the reality of the situation became more clear.  The gears refused to engage, and we waited for the rescue, whatever it would be.

The boat began drifting slowly towards the rocky point and we began to wonder what we would do with no radio on board.  Being the night of the Full Moon Party, it was just a short wait until another packed water taxi pulled up alongside of us, and the driver motioned that we should get in.  Getting everyone onto the boat even from the stationary beach had been a treacherous task, with a few near injuries as the boat pitched and lurched from side to side.  Now they wanted us to do it from one giant canoe to another in choppy waters, floating only six inches above the surface.  A sensible passenger from the back suggested that we make the change one by one, after the first confused movements led to drastic shifts.  It seemed to be a good idea, and the front row began to make the crossing.  The first girl made it across, limbs flailing to keep from plunging between the boats.  From a distance it must have looked like she couldn't wait for shore to start raving.  The surprised passengers in the rescue taxi became a bit more helpful and a bit less puzzled when they saw that this actually involved them, too.  After a few more passengers made it safely across, both boats were rocking heavily from the chop underneath and acrobatics on deck.  The surf shoved the two boats toward one another and they locked sides with an unnerving crack and squeal of wet wood sliding past.

We were preparing ourselves for our turn to board, and the woman in front of us was making her way just as a wave came by and knocked the two boats together, this time with her fingers between them.  The resulting catastrophe was so shocking and unexpected that it was a while before anyone on the boat realized what had happened.  It struck us how unaware the poor woman was of the severity of her condition, and it seemed everyone around her had seen her hand by this point.  The tips of her pointer and middle fingers on her right hand dangled from a thin flap of skin just below the end knuckle.  Thick, dark red blood fell in large droplets on the teal, wooden bench seat between us, and with each of her rapid movements, the tips wobbled precariously and threatened to fall off completely.  Everyone had seen this, and everyone had decided it was someone else's problem, even her, even us for a moment.  The shock of the gruesome injury was compounded immensely by the realization of our situation in a broken down boat, ten minutes to inhabited shore, and over an hour to the nearest, undoubtedly crappy, hospital.  It was all such a 180 degree flip from the happy, carefree, excited state from three minutes before that people did not want to even recognize what had happened for fear of making it more real or connecting themselves with any part of it.

It quickly became clear that no one was going to help, so we tried to keep her calm, got her on the working boat, and convinced a friend of hers to get on behind.  For interminable seconds everyone on the two boats was yelling at the driver to "GO!", but he didn't understand why we had stopped boarding when there were still spaces for more people on his boat.  Eventually the Thai passenger who had retreated to the bow of our boat recalled he could speak the skipper's language and communicated the need for them to leave.  As the noise of their motor faded into the distance a silence fell over our boat, and there was only the noise of the waves clapping weakly for a poor performance.

Another taxi boat was hailed, and we did not attempt another transfer.  The rope was thrown, cleated, and we were on our way.  The other boat plowed noisily onwards, as ours limped silently along in tow.  We beached and disembarked single file, everyone moving a bit slower and more carefully than necessary.  Dazed, we each turned to face the lights and noise of the Full Moon Party.

We walked the length of the beach in both directions and couldn't help but talk over the recent events, still forefront in our minds.  We discovered that the beach was very well equipped with emergency medical facilities, and we knew that she probably received the best medical care on the island.  We finally decided that we shouldn't let this ruin our New Year Moon Birthday Party.

The beautiful full moon lit up the dark corners of the beach, while the rest was aglow with neon, blacklight, and fire.  Thousands of LED gadgets twinkled and flashed in the crowd.  Everyone toted around little beach pails filled with the poison of their choice and bobbed to the throb that came from that 50 feet of speaker range.  These noise duels continued until just past 7 in the morning, and you had to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire, or you could wind up rhythmically insane.  We spent much of our party time seated in front of some spectacular fire twirling entertainment with a bucket of our own.  The staffs, poi (fire balls on the ends of chains), and fire breathing were awesome, and there were even little kids, no more than 10 years old, performing their little versions of amazing fire stunts.

At about 4:30 in the morning we took a pickup truck taxi back to our beach with a pair of talkative, drunk Englishmen and a German couple, who looked the worse for wear.  The road was as bumpy and curvy as before, and our taxi mates barely made it.  When we got to our beach, the eastern horizon was turning from black to navy blue, and we decided to stay up and watch the sunrise.  The sky paled, then blushed, then finally faded into day.  We returned to our bungalow with our new companion, a cute, tan dog with a bushy tail, turned off our now unnecessary porchlight, and went to bed as the day began to cook.

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April 18, 2006

The rest of our days and nights were spent relaxing on the beach and recovering from months of nonstop travel.  We ate most of our meals at our bungalow's restaurant, perched on the beach beneath a wonderful, expansive shade tree.  Reading, writing, yoga, and clambering on the rocky point that jutted out from the south were our daily activities peppered with some volleyball and two lovely extended kayak excursions.  Paddling past the edges of our beach, which were made entirely of granite boulders and slabs, the coast was uninhabited for miles in both directions, save for the giant lizard we startled foraging in the crevasses.