March 10, 2009 - Andaman Sea

We spent our last two nights in Thailand in the Surin Islands, which, like the Similans, are a national park. But someone in the Surins is clearly fishing - the fish I saw were much smaller and more skittish than in the Similans. The hightlight of my snorkeling in the Surins was spotting some pipefish, which are tiny little members of the seahorse family, and a spotted porcupine fish, which, like a puffer, will inflate itself to defeat predators, but which, unlike a puffer, is covered in spikes. Despite its armour, it was hiding under a ledge.

The Surins are visited by dive boats, but, unlike the Similans, they are not on the daytrip itinerary for tours from Phuket. Most of the visitors to the Surins, who stay in tents or basic bungalows at the park headquarters, appeared to be Thais. We had had a really dreadful lunch at the park headquarters on Koh Miang in the Similans (we were both a little off for two days afterwards), so we were a little hesitant about trying the restaurant at the Surins. But with passage looming, we couldn't resist the opportunity to have someone else cook for us. Our lunch ashore in the Surins was so good that we headed right back in for dinner.

On Sunday morning, with some favorable breeze finally in the forecast, we left the Surins and Thailand. For two days and nights now we've been sailing slowly northwest across the Andaman Sea. We're averaging fewer than 100 miles a day, but they are largely in the right direction. With both the staysail and jib up to help the main, the boat is well-balanced. There is minimal swell. The hatches are all open and the cockpit shades deployed. We've experienced more roll in some anchorages than we have in the Andaman Sea. This the most comfortable upwind sailing we've ever done.

There is absolutely nothing out here - no fishermen, no fish, no ships, hardly any floating trash. It is just us and the dolphins. After months of coastal cruising, where there was always some activity around us, it is somewhat unsettling to be reminded how desert-like the ocean can be.

March 6, 2009 - Koh Tachai, Phang Nga Province, Thailand

Between running around to close all of the hatches to keep out a sudden shower around midnight, being woken by the mooring ball banging against the hull a few hours later, and then again by a slight swell setting into the anchorage, we were suffering from a serious case of sleepusinterruptus early this morning. So while it was still dark, we got up to slip the mooring line and head north to another of the Thai islands. When we arrived on deck we were greeted by a sunrise that was almost as gorgeous as the sunset the prior night. The dawn sky was shot through with shades of coral, pink and red that are usually only found at a MAC counter.

When Sten went to make breakfast, he discovered that our bug invasion wasn't limited to open dry goods. These nasty little buggers had managed to chew their way into unopened bags of flour and pasta. Since we have more food onboard than ever before, and we've technically left Thailand, tossing it out and restocking isn't really an option. So first we nuked the sealed bags of pasta to kill the bugs. Then I sat down and commenced separating the salvageable stuff from the steamed carcasses.

Our day improved when Sten caught a rainbow runner a couple miles outside the boundaries of the national park. But then, while cleaning the fish, he tried to cut the tip of his thumb off. He was bleeding profusely. Luckily, he was using a new stainless steel knife, a gift from our friend Sig, which has a razor sharp blade with no rust on it. It was a clean cut. Even more luckily, we have an incredibly complete medical kit onboard (admired by many a customs and quarantine officer), compiled for us by Sten's dad and his fiancee. So far, we haven't had to raid it too often. The antibiotics and bandages typically see the most action. But today I was especially glad to have the supplies to stock a basic surgery on board, and a book to tell me how to use the stuff.

We were only a few miles from Koh Tachai, so we rinsed the wound with tap water and Sten applied pressure to stem the bleeding. While we steamed towards a mooring ball, I alternated between reading up on wound treatment, gathering the necessary supplies from the med kit, and continuing to pick black bugs out of a four month supply of pasta.

Once we were tied to the mooring, I asked Sten to come down to the galley so that we could clean his wound properly. He tried to beg off, protesting that the wound was clean because "the knife had just been rinsed with salt water." I gave him the I-know-you're-not-that-stupid look, waved Dr. Weiss's Comprehensive Guide to Marine Medicine at him, and told him to get his butt down to the galley.

The water that comes out of our watermaker is about as clean as it gets, but we have filled our tanks with shore water a few times recently. Just to be safe, I treated the 500ml of tap water that I used to irrigate the wound with 10ml of betadine. While Sten held his hand over the sink, I pried open the wound with gloved fingers and used a large syringe to flush the wound.

Despite all the sail and canvas repair that I've been doing lately, my stitches aren't that neat. And although the med kit includes a suture kit, I'm not too comfortable with the idea of driving a needle through my husband's skin. And having seen me struggle with the canvas, he'd prefer I keep my needles away from him too. Luckily for Sten, Dr. Weiss says that a deep hand wound shouldn't be closed - the chance of infection is too great. It is better to keep the wound open and moist so that it can heal. So, I dressed his finger with neosporin, a nonadhesive bandage, a gauze pad to absorb any excess goo, and taped the whole thing up. Then we stuffed his injured hand into a latex glove so that the gloved one could make us lunch while I went swimming. As an added bonus, the glove acted as a pressure bandage and stopped the bleeding.

The mooring that we picked up at Koh Tachai was in the midst of a healthy coral garden. It was dead low tide when we moored, so I dove down to make sure that we wouldn't hit any of the nearby coral heads if we swung on the mooring. As soon as I dove down, I attracted the attention of a small remora - only at the time I had no idea what kind of creature was trying to attach itself to my thigh. I surfaced, gasping and screaming as I thrashed towards the swim ladder. My cries drew Sten out onto the side deck. He could tell that I wasn't in pain, and was just frightened. Nonetheless, he thought it was one of the funniest things he'd ever seen. He claims that I hit planing speed as I swam back to the boat. I was momentarily affronted that he would laugh at my predicament, but quickly recognized that we both needed some comic relief to cut through the tension of the morning's events.

Then, while I was hanging off the swim ladder, catching my breath, a white and black banded sea snake swam up towards me. Just yesterday I was saying how happy I'd be to sail around the world without ever seeing a sea snake. I totally jinxed myself. Luckily, the snake was more frightened of me than I was of it, and it quickly went to hide under a rock. While Sten grilled the fish, he asked how the diving was. Like any good wife, I looked him directly in the eye and lied. "Coral's dead, no fish, visibility sucks, no giant grouper hanging out under the boat, lots of jellyfish . . . " I didn't want him to feel bad about missing out on some of the best snorkeling conditions we've seen since Rinca - and I wanted to discourage him from swimming until his thumb heals.

March 5, 2009 - Koh Bangu, Similan Isands, Thailand

Since there doesn't seem to be any wind in the near forecast, and we don't really want to burn a full tank of diesel motoring for three days to reach the Andamans, we decided to gunkhole our way north through the islands just off the west coast of Thailand. Weather that sucks for passagemaking can be absolutely perfect for island hopping and all it entails: exploring, snorkeling, dinners with friends, watching the sunset, etc. By the time we reach the Burmese border hopefully we'll have improved our angle relative to the wind for the sail west. If nothing else, we should see some beautiful scenery along the way.

We started our trip north with a whopping five mile jump up to Koh Bangu, the northernmost of the Similan Islands. We picked up a park mooring and grabbed our fins. As soon as we jumped in the water, we realized what a special place this is. Not only are there whole families of cowries and lionfish living in the crevices among the boulders fringing this spectacular bay, there are fish who seem to think Mata'irea's bottom growth is the best buffet in town. A beautiful anchorage where the fish clean my bottom for me? I could certainly stay here a while.

However, there is a slight drawback. Koh Bangu is on the itinerary for all of the speedboats that do daytrips to the Similans out of Phuket. So from 9:30 to 10:45 and again from 2:30 to 4:00, it is a bit of a zoo. But the rest of the day and during the night it has just been us, Alishan (the adventurous Dutch couple we met in Phuket), Freebird (the friendly folks we drifted down into when our mooring line parted in Bali), Bristolian (a newly minted NZed built megayacht), and a couple of liveaboard diveboats.

According to our cruising guide, we should be struggling to find an empty mooring buoy in the Similans this time of year. But thanks to the protests that closed the Bangkok airport last November and the struggling global economy, tourism in Thailand is way down this spring. There are empty mooring buoys dotting the bays all around the Similans. Usually we take the dinghy to explore; but, with so many empty moorings around, we decided to spend a day gunking around Koh Bangu on Mata'irea, checking out the beautiful bays that surround this island. We had lunch in the northern bay, surrounded by massive schools of fish. It has been a real treat to snorkel right off the mothership. One of the most incredible sunsets we've ever seen capped off a day that will likely go down as one of the top ten days of this trip.

March 4, 2009 - Koh Miang, Similan Islands, Phang Nga Province, Thailand

On Monday we left mainland Thailand and headed northwest towards the Similan Islands, our first stop enroute to the Andamans. The 50 mile run turned out to be a little more exciting than we anticipated. We had nice breeze to start and did several hours at 8+ knots before the mainland started to heat up and an afternoon sea breeze canceled out the prevailing northeast wind. We were having such a good time sailing that we stayed with the dying wind a little too long before going to the motor.

As the afternoon wore on, we could see clouds building up over the mainland, and hear thunder in the distance. So we checked the track and speed of the coming squall with the radar, before switching off power to the electronics (a halfhearted attempt to protect them in case we were struck by lightening). The weather was moving towards us slowly, which gave us plenty of time to take down sails and close the hatches, but that also meant that we would spend a long time traveling in the midst of the squall once it reached us.

When the squall hit us the wind clocked around 360 degrees twice. At one point it was blowing 30 knots. We had heavy rain and lightening all around us for a few hours. I was tempted to turn us around and sail back out of it, but we were trying to get to the anchorage at the closest of the Similans before dark, so we pressed on. We arrived at Koh Miang (Similan #4) at the close of twilight. We anchored in the dark, with the rain coming down. As we were about to make dinner, we discovered an infestation of small black bugs in our dry goods. All in all, it wasn't our best day.

The next morning we woke to discover that we were surrounded by clear water (for the first time in FOREVER) and that our anchor was wedged under a rock. So with a little luck we upped anchor and moved to a park mooring. We spend the next two days snorkeling in crystal clear water with great visibility.

The Similans have been a national park since the early 80's and the fish life is abundant. We've seen big milkfish, jacks and parrots, and lots of little reef fish that are completely new to us. I snap photos of everything we haven't seen before, just so that we can look them up and identify them when we get back to the boat. The bays fringing the Similans are surround by huge granite boulders, implausibly balanced upon each other, which creates some interesting underwater topography to explore. But my favorite thing about this spot is the turtle who comes swimming around the boat a couple of times a day, looking for a handout. So this hasn't been a bad place to wait for some wind to sail to the Andamans.

March 1, 2009 - Patong, Phuket, Thailand

I do love a party town, and Patong is Phuket's party town. It is touristy and tacky and I love it. Just as one can't really experience Bali without an evening in Kuta, one can't really have been to Phuket without a night in Patong. It isn't quite "one night in Bangkok," but it is as close as we were going to get on this trip to Thailand.

So many of the cultures that we have encountered these past two years have embraced transgendered individuals. The mahus in Tahiti are perhaps the most well known example on the cruising route. Mahus are anatomically male, but are raised as females because their families determine that they need a girl to do tasks that their culture (and ours) define as girl-stuff - housework, caring for siblings or an elderly relative. We met many mahus working as shopgirls and as waitresses. They were still all man, physically, but they knew how to wield an eyeliner pencil to great effect.

In Thailand, the katoeys, or ladyboys as they are known to most farang (westerners), have gone way beyond eyeliner. Thailand leads the world in gender reassignment surgery. Katoeys work in all industries, but the tourist is most likely to encounter them working in bars. Along Bangla Road in Patong we saw some of the most fantastically beautiful human beings we've ever seen.

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February 26, 2009 - Nai Harn, Phuket, Thailand

One morning, while waiting for the local bus, I finally got to experience a little bit of the real Thailand - something that hasn't been built or staged for the benefit of tourists. I wandered into the local wat (or temple). I spent a few minutes walking around the grounds, under towering pine trees, watching local families arrive on motorbikes for their morning prayers. As I circled back out towards the temple gate, I heard a noise that sounded like someone moaning. I looked over to see a family of five gathered around the hood of a shiny new pickup truck. They were all dressed in jeans and polo shirts, but they had kicked off their sandals and were standing barefoot in the dust. In the center of the group was a monk, wearing flowing orange robes. In one hand the monk held a blue and white porcelain jar. The monk's other hand rested on the hood of the pickup truck. His shaved head was bowed forward and his eyes were closed as he muttered incantations over the hood of the truck. The sound that drew my attention wasn't coming from him. The keening was coming from the oldest woman in the group, who was wearing a pink suit jacket over her polo shirt. She was rocking back and forth, moaning. As the monk prayed, her cries became more agitated and high pitched. She stretched her arms towards the hood of the truck. Her whole body was shaking as she let out a cry and fainted dead away into the arms of a young man standing behind her. The monk stopped praying. Before he moved around the open driver's door to begin to bless the cab, he looked directly at me. As he made eye contact I felt like an intruder. And I was a little worried that whatever evil spirit they had just exercised from the truck might be looking for a new home, so I hightailed it out of there before it attached itself to me.

When we arrived in Nai Harn a few days ago we were excited to see some boats that we knew in the anchorage, friends from the Indonesia rally. We were caught up in boat projects for the first two days here. Sten changed a seal on the transmission and the oil in the main engine and did some preventative maintenance on the refrigeration motor. Meanwhile I did a provisioning run and some sail repair (if I had known how much time I would be spending with a needle in my hand I would have paid more attention when my mom tried to teach me to embroider!). On our second evening in Nai Harn we got together with some friends for dinner at one of the many small restaurants that line the beach here. We caught up on what everyone had been up to these past three months, and their plans for the coming season.

We also met an adventurous couple on Alishan, a Taswell 43, who introduced us to the Thai sauna experience (and here Sten had been thinking that the engine room was his Thai sauna experience). The real sauna smelled like tiger balm and lemongrass and was so hot that we could only spend a few minutes at a time in it. Afterwards we had massages and went out for some really tasty Thai food, which was a nice change as so much of the Thai we've had has been seriously mediocre - dumbed down for tourists, I guess.

We had a fun night out with Marijke and Jaap, capped off with a tragically funny mistimed dinghy launch through the surf crashing on Nai Harn beach. If we hadn't had dry bags to protect our cameras and wallets, our poor timing would have been tragic. As we did, it was just funny. And wet. The next day Jaap helped Sten get some charting software up and running and we got some fur therapy, hanging out with their two cats while we checked out a tiny portion of Marijke's amazing shell collection. Check out this picture of a very seasick Wakame - I'm trying to convince Sten to let me make it our screen saver as it cracks me up every time I look at it.

February 23, 2009 - Nai Harn, Phuket, Thailand

I'm not going to talk about the trip from Railay back to Phuket because it just wasn't at all interesting. Instead, I'd like to take a moment to introduce you all to something that no cruising boat should be without:

A Pound of Monkey Shit

We bought this stuff when we were back home in the States. It sticks to wet surfaces. It stays in place underwater, even in saltwater. It doesn't doesn't harden up, nor does it get runny or dissolve. It remains pliable and is reusable. We originally bought it to fill in the gaps around our refrigeration pipes. Lately we've used it on three additional projects: to fill the gaps around the plug during the head thruhull repair, to seal the stern tube during the replacement of a seal on the main engine, and to rebed the chainplates (we don't yet know how well that will work, but we've got high hopes). According to the package it is "duct seal," but in the plumbing trade it is known as "monkey shit." We wish that we'd known about this stuff years ago.

February 20, 2009 - Railay Beach, Krabi Province, Thailand

We've spent the past few days anchored in front of a truly beautiful beach. Craggy limestone cliffs bookmark either end of a curve of fine white sand. The surrounding cliffs mean that all access to this area is done by boat (oh goody, more longtails). Between the silty water, crowds, constant wakes from passing boats and the noise, well, we're of the opinion that Phang Nga Bay is a region that is better explored by land (with a few sea kayaking and diving trips mixed in) than by cruising boat. As a funnier guy than we said: Cruising Thailand - Phuket!

We are so excited about the places that we are headed to this year, several of which are places that can only be visited on a yacht, that we are both itching to move on. Receiving our permit to visit Chagos (an uninhabited archipelago) from the British Indian Overseas Territory this week only served to intensify the desire to get out of dodge. But we're still waiting on our India Visas, so we've spent the past few days getting the boat ready for a long season between good repair facilities.

Our problem with the discharge thruhull in the forward head almost necessitated an overnight haul out to repair (for one night we even considered turning the room into a closet until we reached South Africa), but my husband, who shall henceforth be known as the Genius, managed to repair a balky underwater thruhull without sinking the boat out from under us. It was a multi-day project that involved converting the aft deck and cockpit into a workshop and machining several tools (out of scrap aluminum and driftwood) and new parts (out of the old), with only a jig saw, hacksaw, power drill and a dremel. I'm regularly impressed by his mechanical skills, but the Genius took his game to whole new level this week.

I occasionally lent a hand and flipper to the thruhull project, but the bulk of my time was spent preparing to make it snow in the Andamans. The bureaucracy in the Andamans is so off the charts compared to most cruising grounds that most yachts skip it all together. But the lure of incredible fishing, unparalleled snorkeling and a frontier surfing destination convinced us that it would be worth jumping through a few hoops. The process of checking in can take up to three days (which is quite a big percentage of the 30 days we are allowed there), but supposedly it can be sped up quite a bit by preparing a lot of documents in advance. Using the samples provided by s/v Crystal Blues on their website, I prepared our pre-arrival and arrival faxes, letters and forms. I was a regular old document monkey! Finally, a boat job for which 6 years of law firm life had prepared me! So far, my favorite thing about the Andamans is that the officials there refer to yacht captains as "Master." As I signed form after form as the Master of s/v Mata'irea, I tried to figure out how I could convince the Genius to start referring to me as Master.

February 16, 2009 - Hat Klong Muang, Krabi Province, Thailand

Ever since I read the Babar books and fell in love with a giant stuffed elephant at FAO Schwartz (I think I was about 8 at the time), I've had a thing for elephants. So when I learned that twice a day a six year old female elephant visits the beach in front of the Sheraton at Klong Muang for a swim, I practically begged Sten to make a detour. Before we had even met her, I'd already christened her "Packy" and fallen a little in love with her. When she took a banana from my hand and peeled it by rolling it along her trunk, I was a goner. Packy eventually won Sten's heart by rolling over in the surf and kicking her legs in the air, like a puppy does when chasing rabbits in its sleep.

Febrary 15, 2009 - Koh Hong, Krabi Province, Thailand

Koh Hong (Krabi)

I want to start by apologizing to all of our readers. We know that you all come here for entertainment, to check in on us, or because you are thinking about going cruising one day. Nobody comes here to be marketed to. We made a conscious decision not to run google ads on this blog or to put a "please donate" button up (because that's just tacky). If we mention vendors or suppliers that we have received good service from, we do so to thank them and to let other yachties know who the good guys are. We don't receive compensation from anyone for our recommendations (however, if the fine folks at Crocs would like to send us a two year supply of Athena flip flops, the best jandals ever, we wouldn't turn them down - I take a W7 and Sten is an M11).

Last week our blog was hacked or hijacked, and advertisements posted on it. If it was through some fault of our own, we apologize. With the assistance of Sten's sister, as we were no where near an internet cafe or wifi signal at the time we learned of the hijacking, the offending post has been deleted and passwords changed. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming . . .

The lagoon in the big hong at Koh Phanak

With the full moon just past, we are still experiencing spring tides, which cause big changes in water level twice a day. With so much water moving in and out of the fluvial river system that feeds upper Phang Nga Bay, the water is really silty. This wouldn't be a concern, except these waters are shallow and our charts aren't all that accurate. Two nights ago we had only 2 feet of water under the keel as we snuck our way into a protected anchorage behind Koh Yang to escape unseasonably strong westerly winds. That wouldn't be a problem if the water was clear and we could see the bottom. But when we can't, it is nervewracking. So leaving Koh Yang, rather than taking the direct route east to our next overnight anchorage, which would have taken us over many shoal areas at low tide, we took a circuitous route back south, following our track from the day before, which worked out just fine, as it gave us a chance to check out some of the hongs on Koh Phanak that we had bypassed the day before.

From Koh Phanak, we headed southeast to Koh Pak Bia (and hopefully clearer waters) to swim and snorkel. But the anchorage was untenable, as there was too much chop from wind blowing against the current, creating little standing waves. So we pulled up the anchor for the third time that day, and headed south looking for a better place to spend the night. It was getting towards nightfall and we were despairing of finding a place to anchor that was protected from the wind and current. Then we came around the northeast corner of Koh Hong and found a perfectly calm bay, fringed by a white sand beach and backed by steep limestone cliffs. We put down the anchor and settled down for another shrimp feast (we'd been hailed by another fisherman during our meanderings around Phang Nga Bay).

A sea gypsy living in one of the caves that dot the perimeter of Koh Hong

Sten's view from the cave he climbed up to during our exploration of the island

A tour boat entering the largest hong at Koh Hong

The next day, after we explored the island a bit, the rest of the day was devoted to projects. Sten spent part of the day working on whittling a wooden plug to fit the underwater thruhull to which the faulty ball valve connects. Once the plug is in place, he should be able to change the ball valve, with Mata'irea in the water, with minimal chance of sinkage - at least so he has assured me the past two mornings as I've woken up from nightmares about floods and losing the boat.

Mid-afternoon, taking advantage of the calm anchorage, Sten hauled me up the mast to take down the old wire running backstays, one of which was sprung. I installed the new ones that Rigging Only in New Bedford, Massachusetts made for us out of V-100 hightech line. As Sten lowered me back down I spent some time at the lower spreaders, working with a file and rigging tape to make sure that there were no sharp edges to catch our new lines. Afterwards I worked on restitching a few more sections of the failing thread on the dodger and bimini. As we worked on our projects there was a charter boat on a mooring near us watching our activities. If they were on one of those "let's go charter for a week to see if we want to go cruising" trips, then we certainly gave them a good show. Cruising is nothing if not working on your boat in beautiful places.

This guy and his relatives (who are all the diameter of a large dinner plate) have done an excellent job of keeping me out of the water here. Can you blame me?

Just before I went up the mast a catamaran came sniffing around us, looking for a place to drop anchor. Taking a page out of our friends on Makanai Kai's book of tricks, we told them that we had 150 feet of chain out and pointed out a mooring at the other end of the bay, telling them that a big cat had spent the prior night on it. Unfortunately, they dismissed the mooring as being "too far away." Too far away from what - us?

Last weekend in Phi Phi Don we had to move when another boat anchored too close to us and their crew immediately hopped into the dinghy and went into town, missing the excitement of their boat nearly swinging into ours. So today, when the catamaran set themselves up to drop anchor right on top of ours I called out "Don't even think about it. You're a catamaran. We're a monohull. If the wind shifts or the current sets up, we're going to be bumping into each other." They promptly moved about 50 feet further away and dropped there. I turned to Sten and said, "that was a firm yet polite way to deal with that, don't you think?" He pulled a face and said "polite?"

So dear readers, I ask you to settle a debate for us. My response was:

1. firm yet polite, or
   
2. the reason why half the western men in Thailand have shacked up with local women, figuring that buying her family a water buffalo in exchange for her company is a better price to pay than having to put up with an assertive bitch like me for the rest of their lives

February 13, 2009 - Koh Yang, Phang Nga Province, Thailand

Sea Eagles feeding on carrion tossed by a passing tour boat.

As we motorsailed north from Ao Chalong into Phang Nga Bay a marvelous thing happened - it started to rain. Now usually a daysail in the rain wouldn't thrill us so much, but we haven't had a drop of rain since leaving Singapore a month and a half ago, and our deck and canvas are badly in need of a wash. As long as the rain lasted, we cleaned. But it was only a passing shower, so Mata'irea is still dirtier than we'd like.

Motorsailing along the coast of Koh Phanak we were approached by a longtail. The fishermen onboard held up a handful of giant prawns that were so fresh their legs were still moving. We waved them over and Sten put the engine into idle as they pulled along side. They were asking 400 baht (about $12) for about two pounds of these super fresh gigantic prawns. We couldn't eat that much, and we couldn't come up with 400 baht in small bills. I brought up the small bills we did have and then asked if they drank beer (I had to check first, this is a deeply muslim part of Thailand, so I didn't want to insult anyone by shoving alcohol in their faces). This question brought out big smiles. So up Sten came with 2 ice cold VBs, which led to even bigger smiles. We quickly concluded our negotiations and came away with over a pound of wriggling light pink shrimp for 120 baht (around $4).

We found an anchorage behind Koh Hong, and dropped anchor. Completely blind to the gorgeous scenery around us, we poured over the cookbooks, trying to find a recipe worthy of these big beautiful shrimp (unlike the farm raised shrimp from Thailand that we find in grocery stores back home, which are black tigers, these were wild, white shrimp). We agreed that cooking them in their shells, heads on was the way to go, as that would make them even more flavorful. After settling on a recipe, we looked up an realized that we were being perhaps a little unappreciative of our spectacular surroundings, so we set out in the dinghy to explore the lagoon and adjacent hong.

Upon returning to the boat we discovered that there was about 2 knots of current cranking through our anchorage, so we upped anchor and went looking for a better place to spend the night. We tucked into a little bay, just south of Koh Yang, a horseshoe shaped island, one end of which is anchored by a giant phallic symbol. All around us, improbably shaped limestone karsts thrust up out of milky green water towards the sky. Over the years, the rain has eroded the limestone, which is shot through with sections of black, grey, white, peach and burnt sienna, so the pillars look like candles that have been burning for too long in a drafty room.

The karst at Koh Yang is just to the left of the open hatch cover.

Those are some long antennae - and a messy galley!

While I showered, Sten got started making dinner. First he made a dipping sauce out of garlic, chili, fish sauce and lime juice. Then he deveined and cleaned the shrimp and coated them in a mixture of salt, pepper and cornstarch. Finally, he cut up some scallions and pepper to stir fry with the shrimp. While Sten grabbed a shower, I tossed together a cucumber salad and some rice. Then I gave him back the galley, and stood back to watch as he sauteed the shrimp. The end result was delicious - a meal worthy of the freshest shrimp that either of us is every likely to eat. I was impressed by the tom yum soup Sten made us for last night, but tonight's dinner blew me away. Those cooking classes are already paying dividends!

February 12, 2009 - Ao Chalong, Phuket Province, Thailand

The most remarkable thing happened on the way from Phi Phi Don to Phuket - we sailed! For the first time in days we were able to turn the motor off and sail. For several hours there was no sound but that of the hull cutting through the water. There wasn't a longtail in sight (or earshot). It was so peaceful that we hesitated to turn the engine on, even as our boatspeed fell into the low threes as we approached Chalong Bay.

We arrived at Ao Chalong on Monday afternoon with enough time to shower and get to the Immigration office before they closed for the day at 3pm (nice hours). It was only after the Customs officer handed me a bill for 600 Baht (approx $18) and wished me a happy something or other that I discovered that our gambit to arrive on Monday (rather than a weekend) and avoid overtime fees had failed miserably.

After clearing in, we found a taxi and hightailed it into Phuket Town to start the process of getting our India visas for our upcoming trip to the Andaman Islands. The travel agency was technically closed for the holiday, but the woman inside watching television had failed to lock the door, so we pushed our way in to find out what items we should have in hand when we returned the next day.

Applying for an Indian visa in Thailand involves the following: (a) two 2 inch passport photos with a blue background per applicant, (b) a completed application in black pen, (c) a travel itinerary with vessel and crew details, and (d) 4700 Baht per applicant. We decided not to pay extra to get the special Andaman Islands endorsement on our visa, as that would automatically limit our time in the Andamans to 15 days. For the last few years, yachties arriving in Port Blair, India with a tourist visa with no special endorsements have been given a 30 day permit to visit the Andamans. We couldn't figure out why we should pay extra to limit our time in the Andamans to 15 days.

The next morning we returned to Emotion Travel with all the required documentation and applied for standard six month tourist visas, which we hope the authorities in Port Blair will continue to accept. The travel agent told us that it will take 10 working days to receive our visas. Already burned once by an unexpected public Thai holiday, Sten asked how many more holidays there were in the next few weeks.

The rest of Tuesday was spent visiting hardware stores and chandleries (because you can never have too many spare parts - Sten's personal mantra) and checking out one of the local supermarkets. After doing the bulk of our Indian Ocean provisioning in Singapore (specialty items like bottled lime juice, whole wheat flour, decent crackers, walnuts, pecans and tahini paste), Penang (almost everything else, specifically cheese, dry goods, sauces, condiments, canned and frozen veggies and junk food) and Langkawi (frozen meat, booze and chocolate), we're in really good shape. All we have to do in Thailand is buy Indian curry pastes, popcorn, fresh fruit and veggies, juice and UHT milk (which is proving to be more difficult than expected). So how is it that we managed to fill a whole shopping cart at Big C? Other than popcorn (4lbs of kernels!), we didn't buy anything on my list. But we couldn't pass up a bunch of sauces that we just had to have after using them in our Thai cooking class and some more junk food for satisfying those night watch munchies. You know you've crossed some sort of line from regular grocery shopping to provisioning when the guys in line in front of you take one look at your cart and ask if you are opening a store.

On Wednesday morning we brought in our disintegrating sailcover to a local canvas shop. Then we scouted around for a new faucet for the galley sink (the current one is leaking) and a bronze ball valve to replace the one that is jammed in the forward head (stainless and brass is no problem, but bronze is proving to be more illusive). After a lunch of shabu shabu, we checked out the Tesco Lotus supermarket just down the road from the anchorage and updated the blog. Along the way I found some cheap plastic bins to line the v-berth with so that we can carry lots of extra fresh veggies with us to Chagos. We stuck pretty close to the harbor as we had late afternoon dentist appointments, but Sten did manage to find a place to get an absolutely terrible haircut. Luckily our dentist was more skillful than his barber. Continuing our survey of the cost of dental care around the world, I can now report that each of our checkups and cleanings cost about $18 (the same as the overtime fee for clearing into the country on a holiday).

Today we headed back to Phuket Town to pick up some spare refrigeration compressor belts that Sten ordered on Tuesday. It was unbearably hot today, so we ducked into Kopi Phuket for some iced coffee and iced tea to cool ourselves down. Then we headed over to yet another grocery store - Tops Market at the Robinson department store. Some other cruisers had raved about the place. And they did have a very nice selection of goods, including large boxes of UHT milk and Carr's water crackers. But so far, of the local market options. I've been most impressed with Big C.

We've taken all manner of transport to get back and forth from Ao Chalong to Phuket Town: taxi, bus, and tuk tuk (a small truck with benches in the back). The tuk tuk guys keep trying to get us to stop at a shop along the way. We understand that in exchange for us browsing and possibly buying something, they will receive gas coupons or some other compensation from the store owner. But with items destined for the fridge quickly coming to air temperature in our grocery bags, we would rather pay a little extra to just get back to the boat. There is one mode of transport we haven't been willing to try. Since we don't have health insurance, we won't risk catching a ride from one of the many scooter taxis that ply their trade at every major intersection.

This afternoon we picked up a new galley faucet at the newly opened Home Pro, just past the Ao Chalong circle on the road to Wat Chalong. Next door to Home Pro is a brand new grocery store, which should be open by the time we return to Ao Chalong to clear out of Thailand. Then we dodged traffic to reach the brand new Chalong branch of Chokpaiboon Bearings. This chain of marine hardware stores has branches in Phuket Town and Boat Lagoon, which is great for the boats that are hauled out or doing major work in the marina there. But for boats just passing through Thailand, there hasn't been a good chandlery close to the bay we all have to visit to clear in and out of the country. Chokpaiboon's new Chalong branch rectifies this problem. The store isn't fully operational yet, but they were happy to "interoffice" the bronze ball valve we needed from the Boat Lagoon branch. We were tickled to be their first customers. After picking up our ball valve, we headed down the road to Palm Sails to pick up our repaired sailcover and sailbag. Loaded down with enough bits and pieces to keep Sten in full project mode while we spend the next two weeks cruising Phang-Nga Bay, we headed back to the boat.

We haven't seen much of the island yet, but so far my favorite thing about Phuket is the big white Buddha smiling down on us from a hill above Ao Chalong.

February 8, 2009 - Phi Phi Don, Krabi Province, Thailand

Maya Bay on Phi Phi Leh - after the hordes have gone home.

As we made our way from Ko Lanta to Phi Phi Leh, the stunningly beautiful island where the movie "The Beach" was filmed, the highlight of yet another windless day of motoring was spotting several sailfish jumping out of the water. Over the past week we've learned that in order to enjoy cruising in Thailand, one must treat one's sails as ornamentation, rather than as a means for propulsion. Once one accepts that one is going to be motoring everywhere, cruising here becomes much less frustrating. We've been doing so much motoring this past month that we haven't needed to run the generator to charge Mata'irea's batteries since leaving Singapore.

Unfortunately, the notoriety gained from its starring role in "The Beach" has all but ruined Phi Phi Leh. All day long hundreds of longtails and speedboats loaded with tourists seeking unspoiled paradise buzz in and out of Maya Bay. During high season, Maya Beach, at the end of the bay, is standing room only. The noise from the unmuffled engines of the longtails destroys any notion of peace and quiet and the trash left behind by the tourists spoils the sense that one is far from civilization.

We timed our late afternoon arrival at Phi Phi Leh to coincide with the departure of the daytrippers, hoping to enjoy the island without having to anchor in the midst of the crisscrossing wakes thrown by a multitude of tourboats. But unfortunately, for the fourth night in a row, a seabreeze induced chop set into the bay, and we spent the night violently rolling back and forth. As the first of the tourboats arrived the next morning, we realized that there was no reason to stick around, so we headed for Phi Phi Don.

"It's official," announced Sten as he made coffee one morning in Phi Phi Don. "I hate longtails."

Phi Phi Don, also known as Ko Phi Phi, was almost completely wiped out by the tsunami. The waves that hit the beach and swept through the village in Tan Sai Bay crested at 5 meters above sea level. But today, the main indicators that a total disaster happened here four years ago are the signs indicating the evacuation route should another tsunami hit and the fact that almost all of the buildings are brand new. 75% of the buildings on the island were completely destroyed by the tsunami, most of the rest were damaged.

Bhudist shrine under a banyan tree. Wherever we go in this world, banyans are revered.

Anchored in Tan Sai Bay on Phi Phi Don we were much closer to the epicenter of Thailand's tourism industry than we were on the southern islands. On board, wakes from passing speedboats makes conditions pretty uncomfortable during the day. On shore, there is no escaping the crush of sunburned, inebriated humanity here. As it was the weekend, we didn't want to push on to Phuket - we would have to pay additional fees for clearing in on a weekend. So, we decided that if you can't beat them, join them. We spent two days here doing all the touristy stuff we could think of. We browsed through shops, ate expensive food (compared to the prices down south), checked out a few bars, and I even convinced Sten to join me for a pedicure - but I think he only agreed so that he could sit in the airconditioned shop for 30 minutes.

We did a little snorkeling in the bay and enjoyed the attentions of some very tame fish. Every time I looked back there was a school of fish following me. I felt like the Pied Piper.
"Do you think she has some bread?" I could imagine them asking each other.
"Of course she does, they always feed us."
"Then why doesn't she give us any?"
"Maybe she doesn't know we are back here. Go nibble her toe to get her attention."

Ingredients for red curry and green curry

Fresh red curry

On our last night on Phi Phi Don we took a cooking class at Pum Cooking School. After teaching us how to make red curry and green curry, Mai, our instructor, taught us how to make Thai fishcakes (think crabcakes, but spicier), pad thai (a yummy noodle dish), fish saut้ed in green curry, tom yum soup (a spicy sour soup), stir fried chicken with sweet chili sauce, and for desert, mangoes with sticky rice. There were four of us in the class. The other students were a couple from Israel. Now, we consider ourselves to be pretty well traveled, but over several courses, we discovered that these guys had been everywhere. We were very impressed.