Saturday 15 August to Monday 17 August 2009
We say ‘farewell’ to the twin Perhantian islands just as the sun rises above the mountains, setting a course of 323 degrees for Koh Samui, 270 miles away in Thailand. At 15:00 on Saturday 15 August we believe we have crossed into Thailand and accordingly hoist the Thai courtesy flag to the starboard crosstrees. As I do so, I muse over how the sea, while connecting the continents of the world, and so many of the countries within them, has no marked boundaries and thus no border posts.
Out here there are no endless forms to be completed, no rubber stamps to be applied, and no ludicrously self-important officials demanding special ‘fees’ for doing their job (about which, more later). It is only when we leave the sanctuary of international waters that one must battle bureaucracy. But even extending out into the big blue, there are rules and I have already described the War Risk Zone drawn arbitrarily by our insurers and left well to the west of our intended course.
We are two nights at sea on this portion of the passage and Marivic and I work our now tried and trusted three-hours-on, three-hours off watch system. While there is not the heavy shipping encountered in the Malacca Straits, we have to play dodge with a variety of fishing boats. The squid boats with their powerful spotlights trained on the water can be spotted even over the horizon, and are often stationary, but it is harder to discern the activities of trawlers – sometimes trawling in pairs.
Hardly any fishing boats in Thailand display the regulation lights which reveal the nature of the vessel and the direction of travel. While the radar picks up some of the boats, wooden craft are not displayed, Fishing boats often have a habit of making sudden course changes in contravention of international ‘rules of the road’ that most fishing skippers are either totally ignorant of, or blatantly ignore. On more than one occasion we are forced to alert a fishing vessel with a ‘blast’ from our 2,000,000 candle-power spotlight (a useful ‘souvenir’ from Singapore).
With the lights of Koh Samui just visible in the early hours of Monday 17 August, it is pointed out by my grim-faced crew-woman that I have been wearing the same underpants for three days – and nothing else! I’m afraid it’s true. Too lazy to get dressed when leaving Perhantian, I set sail in my underpants (a rather fetching pair, though I say so myself); spend my days on deck in them and wear them to bed a couple of nights. I offer Marivic the lame excuse that this is less distasteful than she implies since I have ‘washed’ the offending underpants on the couple of occasions I leapt into the sea for a dip from a boat ‘hove to’ in mid-ocean.
She is less than impressed, telling me rather more sharply than I feel is necessary that this is NOT what Marks and Spencer mean by the term ‘wash and wear’. Truth be told, there have been several occasions when I have awoken in underwear and later strode along a tourist beach sporting it proudly. To date I have not been arrested, so I shall continue. ‘Captain Underpants’ – the hero of a scatological comic strip much-loved by my young son – would be proud of me.
Tuesday 18 August to Thursday 20 August 2009
At 05:00 on Tuesday 18 August we anchor in darkness in Koh Samui’s Ao Lamai Bay (position: 09 deg 27’.809E, 100 deg 03’.426E). We have a leisurely day on Lamai which is a relatively quiet tourist beach with the usual small hotels and shops. The next day is a work day – gas to find, fuel cans to fill and food to buy. But the main task is to ‘check in’ with the Koh Samui immigration, customs and harbour authorities. In Malaysia, this formality proved to be just that – a couple of simple forms, a cheery word from smart officials, a few rubber stamps and on our way within half-an hour with no tacky demands for ‘special fees’. But as my good friend Graham so often says to my annoyance: ‘WTT (welcome to Thailand)’.
We are in the immigration office close to two hours to process paperwork which needs ten minutes and are charged an un-receipted ‘fee’ of tbt 500 (£10) for the entry stamp in our passports. In the harbourmaster’s (marine department) office, where we while away another hour, Marivic – who unbeknown to the rapacious officials speaks fluent Thai – hears them discussing how much they can take us for in bribes.
The figure starts at tbt 4,000 (£80) and when my linguistic crew-woman pipes up: ‘What for, we have a small boat and there is no fee for registering it in or out of a Thai port?’ the figure plummets to tbt 1,000 (£20). We are told this is a charge ‘for cruising in a yacht around Koh Samui’. I must however applaud the Koh Samui Customs Office who processed us within 20 minutes and waved us on our way without demanding any ‘fee’ for doing what they are paid to do. I might also add that I have to date never been ‘shaken down’ in this way by the immigration, customs or harbourmaster authorities in Phuket.
On Wednesday 19 August we take the dinghy for a couple of miles east along the coast from our anchorage to the busier Chaweng beaches. From the sea one can see the monstrous hotel and residential developments lining the shore and creeping like sores high up the hillside. I visited Koh Samui 20 years ago when it was a pretty island. It has now been blighted by what amounts to architectural vandalism and the only thing which appears to have remained the same is the poor state of the roads and general lack of infrastructure. How the island’s leaders can have allowed development to proceed in such a haphazard, unrestrained and unsightly manner is a mystery – but then, perhaps it is not.
Koh Samui to Koh Chang/Koh Kut (21 August to 10 September 2009)
Friday 21 August to Sunday 23 August 2009
We are now in possession of the latest edition of the just printed Southeast Asia Pilot which is hand delivered to us by the publisher himself – Grenville Fordham – over a beachside lunch. The Southeast Asia Pilot is the ‘Bible’ for sailors in this region and it really is a most excellent publication, rivaling the best pilots for other parts of the world and undoubtedly one of Thailand’s finest exports.
On Tuesday 22 August, suitably refueled, re-provisioned and topped up with water (given to us by a friendly beach hotel which even carried the 30-litre containers to our dinghy), we depart Koh Samui’s Ao Lamai Bay for the short hop north to Koh Phangan. On route, beneath clear skies and sunshine, I reel in a large crocodile needlefish, well over a metre long and with a row of sharp teeth down the elongated jaw which gives it its name. That evening the fish is filleted and on my plate in breadcrumbs – a favourite dish – and not the first time we dine on this fish. We anchor in the pretty bay at Haad Thong Nai (position: 09 deg 46’.370N, 100 deg 03’.633E). On the second night we experience torrential rain which pours more water on us in a few hours than has fallen on us in the past two and a half months. Koh Phangan is considerably less developed than its neighbour to the south and is all the more attractive for it.
Monday and Tuesday 24 & 25 August 2009
With the sun just up on Monday 24 August, we point Babadudu at 042 degrees for the 200 nautical mile passage across the Gulf of Thailand to Koh Chang near the Thai Cambodian border. The wisdom of making this trip is questionable since Koh Chang, like Phuket and western Thailand, is exposed at this time of the year to the south west monsoon. Moreover, the Gulf has a reputation for choppy seas and violent squalls. However, the opportunity to explore this little-visited group of islands in the far east of Thailand is too good to miss.
The journey begins extremely well, a 20-knot wind on our beam (ie. at right angles to our direction – the fastest point of sail) giving us speeds through the water consistently over 8 knots. For a brief period we recorded 8.8 knots – a record for Babadudu. After six hours sailing we average just over 7 knots which is excellent going.
Buoyed by the euphoric sailing conditions and a sea yet to live up to its violent reputation, I take myself to the galley and prepare a fish pie (courtesy of our recent catch). Although a reasonable cook – though I say it myself – my culinary contribution on the overall voyage has been minimal. This is not due to the usual chauvinism which on many yachts confines female crew to the galley, but because Marivic truly enjoys cooking and, better still, is inordinately good at it.
At 19:00 hours we begin the three-hours-on, three-hours-off watch system, piling on through the night under full sail at a healthy speed. At 05:00 on Tuesday 25 August – around 50 to 60 miles from our destination – the first of the threatened squalls thunders out of a black sky, hosing the yacht and heeling it sharply. As the wind strengthens, we manage to put in the first reef on the mainsail (reducing the sail area) and also reef the headsail. This calms things down for a while, but the dawn reveals a horizon dark with cloud ‘squall lines’ foretelling of ‘batterings’ yet to come.
We approach the north western tip of a Koh Chang looming from the gloom about six hours ahead of schedule due to our good progress under sail. But with no hopes of finding shelter here, we round the island, passing down its eastern shores, finally finding a quiet anchorage on Koh Ngam just off Koh Chang’s south eastern tip (position: 12 deg 08’.699N, 102 deg 15’.258E).
Wednesday and Thursday 26 & 27 August 2009
The two sandy bays which converge along a narrow, palm-lined isthmus has led to Koh Ngam being described as ‘Koh Chang’s Phi Phi Island’. Fortunately the resemblance ends with their shapes as Koh Ngam has to date been spared the haphazard construction and attendant pollution which has so blighted its west coast ‘twin’. That said, even here in this ‘paradise’ location, there is some unattractive- looking tourist accommodation which one hopes does not bode ill for the island’s future.
We would like to spend more time here since the weather has turned out fine and the beaches are idyllic and deserted, but we are under pressure to register our arrival in Thailand with the relevant authorities and so, on the afternoon of Wednesday 26 August, we move Babadudu into the bay at Ao Salak Phet on the south east of Koh Chang (position: 11 deg 58’.743N, 102 deg 22’.921E).
We are anchored off the Island View Resort whose owner kindly allows us to use his private jetty. On Thursday 27 August we complete the arduous entry formalities. This entails firstly taking a taxi from Ao Salak Phet to the ferry terminal on the east of Koh Chang and from there across to the Thai mainland and the short drive to Laem Ngob where, in a surprisingly commodious immigration office, our arrival is registered. Then it is a short walk to the pier and the marine department (harbourmaster). After our experience in Koh Samui we are prepared for the worse, but ‘King’, the lady who processes our entry to Koh Chang could not be more helpful.
We are dismayed to learn that the customs office is 50 miles away (via the provincial capital of Trat) at Klong Yai near the Thai-Cambodia road crossing. But King arranges for a ‘taxi’ to take us there and back for a not unreasonable fee. While logistically the formalities are time-consuming, all the offices we dealt with at check-in (and on departure two weeks later) are courteous and efficient and no ‘special fees’ are demanded from us. However, yachts planning to visit Koh Chang from another Thai ‘port’ and return to Thailand afterwards could probably spare themselves the bureaucracy.
Friday 28 August to Wednesday 2 September 2009
On Friday 28 August, with the sun still shining in a near cloudless sky, we begin our exploration proper of the Chang and Kut archipelagos, moving just a few miles to Koh Wai (position: 11 deg 54’.399N, 102 deg 24’.076E). A hundred metres from this attractive anchorage is the small Koh Wai Paradise Resort. We get friendly with the staff which allows us to re-fill our water cans and serves us an excellent curry. They also direct us to a visiting supply boat from which we buy large fresh prawns and ice.
On Sunday 30 August we again move a short distance, this time to the north west bay of Koh Mak, an unusually flat, cross-shaped island (position: 11 deg 49’.277N, 102 deg 27’.381E). Although there are some tired-looking resorts in the bay, and on nearby Koh Kham, our dinghy exploration does not confirm the pilot book’s assertion that this is a ‘very spectacular location’.
After sleeping until 11:00am (a full 12 hours), despite having done nothing exerting, we set off on 31 August for the next stop on this island-hopping excursion – Koh Rang. As we approach our intended anchorage on this densely forested island’s northern tip, a heavy squall bursts upon us and we ‘heave to’ for half-an-hour for it to pass before dropping the ‘hook’ in deep water on the edge of a reef (position: 11 deg 48’.380N, 102 deg 23’.414E).
We awake on 1 September to rain and heavy cloud and the realisation that our enjoyment of unseasonably fine weather has come to a glowering end. We try a spot of snorkeling, but there is no comparison with what we have experienced in Malaysia. The following day (September 2) – the three-month ‘anniversary’ of our departure – we move south east to the north west of Koh Kut, Thailand’s most easterly island before Cambodia.
The intended anchorage is a cauldron of waves and wind, so instead we find a pocket of shelter behind the small island of Koh Maisilek (position: 11 deg 42’.924N, 102 deg 31’.625E). We attempt a dinghy trip from here to the main island, but halfway across we are beaten back by large waves which threaten to overturn us (we have lifejackets, but a ‘drowned’ outboard engine would certainly spoil our day).
As the sun sets that evening, we encounter a strange phenomenon when at first one, and then dozens more swift-like birds circle our anchored yacht and take up perches along the guardrails either side of the bow in a scene reminiscent of Hitchcock’s The Birds. We sweep our 2 million candle power spotlight across the foredeck in an attempt to get them to ‘flock off’, but while they circle and swoop noisily overhead, they are not to be deterred. We conservatively estimate the flock to number in excess of 300 birds which perch quietly throughout the night’s howling wind and heavy rain. They are still there in the early hours, but when I creep stealthily on deck at dawn to photograph the spectacle, I find them all gone.
Both Koh Chang (slightly smaller than Phuket) and Koh Kut are densely forested and cut with bays which on the west coasts often have long sandy beaches. While tourism is in evidence on the west coast of Koh Chang, it is mainly catering to low budget visitors with their ubiquitous back-packs. Thus, the 50 islands which comprise the Koh Chang/Koh Kut archipelagos remain largely unspoiled and a real alternative to visitors seeking a quiet location. While the area bears some similarity to Phang Nga Bay on Thailand’s west coast, the island of Koh Chang – although showing signs of mushrooming development has a long way to go to ‘catch up’ with Phuket (and one hopes it never does!).
Thursday 3 September to Thursday 10 September 2009
Another cloudy and wet morning which sees us heading first down the exposed west coast of Koh Kut and then, after rounding the bottom of the island, north along the island’s east coast which provides shelter from the easterly winds and rain. Our anchorage tonight is at Ao Yai (position: 11 deg 36’.675N, 102 deg 35’.780E) opposite a fishing village.
But no quaint fishing village this, with friendly old salts sewing nets and spinning yarns. The village is strung out precariously on crumbling stilts and wooden walkways linking simple shacks, some selling basic necessities and others blaring out karaoke. The latter, along with alcohol, appears to be the staple diet of Thai and Cambodian fishermen seeking some R&R after their stints at sea. Across this latticework stumble glassy-eyed and slurring fishermen who gaze at us bemused as they struggle – some wearing only underclothes – to or from the assorted moored fishing vessels and their places of ‘entertainment’. Here I would agree with the pilot book that this is ‘a very interesting spot indeed’.
Friday 4 September dawns after a night of strong gusts which gave us an unwelcome night-ride, so by 11:00 we are glad to be on our way, returning to Koh Mak, but to an anchorage on the south east bay of the island (position: 11 deg 48’.337N, 102 deg 29’.413E). With the weather unsettled, there is not much to do except to watch a DVD in the cabin – something we have done rarely on the voyage. And I cook a stew.
Our worst weather in this area comes shortly after our Saturday 5 September departure to Koh Chang. With winds in excess of 30 knots and 15-foot waves rolling towards our port beam, the thought of our forthcoming 400-mile passage back to Malaysia is not a comforting one. We anchor midday at Ao Bang Bao on Koh Chang’s south western tip opposite a lighthouse sitting at the end of a long pier (position: 11 deg 57’.998N, 102 deg 19’.138E).
Along this pier are a number of shops, dive operators, restaurants and bars and we agree to return later for some ‘night life’. Later that evening, as we arrive at the pier (not really designed for small dinghies), another heavy squall rips through the bay churning up the sea and reducing visibility. We turn our dinghy back to the anchored yacht, reaching it with some difficulty and marveling how, in just 10 minutes, one’s environment can be altered totally. Again, I have a sense of foreboding about the Gulf of Thailand crossing which will be measured in days and nights, not just by a few hours.
Sunday September 6 is my birthday and it is celebrated with a birthday (pan)cake for breakfast, and a thoughtful card from Marivic. It rains all day – hardly bringing cheer to a birthday boy just 710 days from being 60. We realise the weather must be bad when we note that several large fishing vessels are at anchor for several days alongside us. It is from one of these vessels that we buy a fat fresh fish which Marivic fries up with vegetables as a birthday treat.
Koh Chang has a friendly feel about it. Members of the local boating community are only too ready to take our lines on the pier, and keep an eye on the dinghy while we are ashore. And the simple restaurants offer friendly and efficient service that would shame some of the top eateries on Phuket.
The stormy weather continues until Thursday 10 September when we hire a car and take the ferry to the Thai mainland to complete our exit formalities with the immigration, customs and harbourmaster’s offices in Laem Ngob and Klong Yai. We stop in the busy town of Trat for a few provisions and also manage to secure diesel from the small village. Our water tanks are still almost full since Koh Samui thanks to Marivic who – over the past 10 days – takes advantage of the wet weather to collect ample rainwater for washing, showers and general cleaning. In short, we are good to go.
Koh Chang to Terengganu (11 September to 21 September 2009)
Friday 11 September to Thursday 17 September 2009
With the sun barely up on Friday 11 September we take Babadudu from the sanctuary of Ao Bang Bao to begin the almost 400 nautical mile journey south through the Gulf of Thailand to the island of Redang off Malaysia’s east coast.
As anticipated, the sea is rough and the rain heavy. However, after a couple of hours under engine – essentially to restore battery power – we raise a reefed mainsail and headsail and sail close hauled (about 40 degrees off the wind) making good time. Even more encouraging than the favourable sailing wind is that after six hours of sailing, the sky turns blue and the waves subside (no weather forecast offered us this).
The familiar watch system sees us ploughing through the night and after 24 hours we have averaged exactly 6 knots under sail which we are very happy with. Our second day and night at sea also delivers better than hoped for weather. However, we do have one ‘scare’. The centre of the Gulf of Thailand is a mass of gas fields with offshore exploration and production rigs marked with wide exclusion zones. We have noted these on both the electronic and paper charts and set a course to keep us well clear of them. At just after midnight on Sunday 13 September we approach what at first appears to be vessels at anchor – perhaps gas field support vessels.
However, as we draw closer it is evident that the ‘ships’ are in fact ‘permanent’ structures – we have strayed into a gas field which is not shown at this position on either of our charts. Although we stay clear of the platforms (which do not look like your typical oil-drilling rigs), we pass to within only a few hundred yards of a gas flare stack which – had it suddenly been switched on – would have ruined a good pair of underpants.
With a sense of relief we clear the field, but a few hours later, just before dawn, our reverie is shattered again when a sudden squall loudly announces a major change in weather. The wind on our starboard bow suddenly comes at us head on at 25 knots. The genoa is dropped and the engine fired up. For the next 12 hours we hammer straight into increasingly choppy seas, the yacht rising over the bigger crests and slamming into the troughs causing the mast to quiver like an arrow fired into a door. Sailing purists will maintain – with some justification – that I could have tacked (zig-zagged) into this weather and arrived at our destination under sail, albeit several hours later than planned. However, I am in ‘let’s get there’ mode and kid myself that the change in wind direction is caused by a local storm which will soon abate.
By late afternoon the storm does pass and is replaced by light winds and a sea which, by sundown, is flat calm. At 01:00 on Monday 14 September we enter the familiar bay on the north of Pulau Redang several hours earlier than anticipated and happy to sleep at anchor in a comfy and unmoving bed (position: 05 deg 47’.284N, 103 deg 01’.147E).
We enjoy excellent weather and the remarkably beautiful beach opposite our anchorage for four full days – catching up on reading, snorkeling, enjoying the beach and its ‘mineral-water-clear’ sea, and watching the turtles circle the boat. We also catch squid which we eat fresh in a spicy tomato sauce with pasta. Although the Berjaya Hotel on the adjacent beach has a good restaurant, nothing can compare with what comes out of Babadudu’s galley. However, we eat at the Berjaya’s beach restaurant twice, the excellent head waiter ‘Rizal’ remembering us from our visit there several weeks earlier and offering us a complementary glass of wine and a Muslim dessert to mark the imminent end of the Ramadan month of fasting.
Friday 18 September to Monday 21 September 2009
After an early morning swim beneath the palms on our private beach, it is with some sadness that we say ‘farewell’ to Redang which in some way has come to symbolise this whole voyage with it’s almost clichéd allusions to ‘Arcadia’. Less than five hours later we enter the harbour of Terengganu which had given us some anxious moments on our last visit. We are welcomed by the affable and efficient manager of Heritage Bay Marina, ‘Ashim’, and advised that everything is shut until Tuesday 22 September for the Muslim Eid holiday. We should have known!
However, we do manage to get some fresh food in Terengganu town and I even find, in a small electronic shop, an inverter which will enable me to run 240-volt appliances from the boat’s 12-volt power supply. The device works well and will enable me to keep computer, cameras and other appliances charged up. Power is a major problem on yachts without generators and Terengganu is the first time I have had access to power and an internet connection since Koh Chang.
While Terengganu is not the most attractive place we have visited, it does offer most of the things we need to help prepare Babadudu for the next stage of our SE Asia voyage – fuel, water, fresh food and a power supply. Sunday and Monday September 20 and 21 are given over to writing a commissioned 1,200-word article on this voyage for the Phuket Post. I also update this blog which, I am informed by the World Cruising Club, can now also be accessed through its ‘Noonsite’ website for yachtsmen. We also give Babadudu a thorough clean inside and out and she now sparkles like new.
One final pause for thought: Since leaving Koh Phangan a month – and more than 700 nautical miles – ago we have not seen a single sailing vessel out on the water.
Steve Lawrence 