The Andaman

Our last two days in Phuket were spent on the Andaman Sea. Our first adventure was a day of sea kayaking. We joined a group of twenty tourists from around the globe and headed out to the craggy islands jutting up from the sea, that make this area spectacular. Yesterday the tide was extra high, so we had some time to waste until the water lowered and we could slip into the suddenly exposed caves. We stopped at a white sand beach for an hour of swimming and resting under the palm trees. We hadn't come for relaxation, so we were anxious to be on our way. Finally we reached our first cave. Steve and I ambled onto a large red inflatable kayak, with a Thai guide in the back, hired to paddle. He headed to the sliver of space at the bottom of a towering cliff, covered in jungle with vines hanging off the black rocks. Cookie, our guide, instructed us to lie down and he thrust our kayak into the small space that had only moments before been revealed as the tide descended. Suddenly our faces were only inches away from scrapping the roof of the cave. We drifted further into the darkness as beads of water dripped onto our faces. The only light was our small lantern that each kayak was issued. Several times, it was evident that we would not be able to go further, so the guide let air out of our kayak, imploding the rubber around our bodies, adding to the sense of claustrophobia that loomed. At one point the entire group came to a stop, with kayaks behind us and several in front of us. It was explained that the water level was still too high and that we would have to wait until it lowered so that we could continue to scoot through the remaining tunnel. Suddenly hazy beams of light streaked across the water, with an opening in the rock ahead. We arrived into an open air grotto, with cliffs towering above, and a patch of blue sky over head. Mangrove trees clustered together in the middle, with their roots exposed like stilts. After peacefully drifting around this secluded garden, we returned to the cave. This time the water had lowered and we could sit up in our boat. We were in awe at the power of gravity and how quickly the water descended. A British woman pointed out that that was true, but think of how quickly it could rise as well. That was an unsettling thought, after our experience fighting off claustrophobia only thirty minutes before. We were served the best ginger soup for lunch, along with the freshest pineapple and a smorgasbord of stir-frys. We stopped at the James Bond Island next, apparently the location for one of the first movies, where we paddled around for about an hour. Our last cave took us to another grotto. This time there were overly friendly monkeys. One little guy jumped on a neighboring kayak and sat at the tip, observing the crew for several moments. It then grabbed the kayak's flashlight and leaped off, jumping to a close rock ledge. It attempted to peel the yellow light like a banana, and finally to no avail, tossed it back in the water. Baby monkeys swung from the vines and clambered after their mothers, jumping from the trees to the rocks. We all agreed that sea kayaking was a unique way to experience the Andaman and well worth a trade for one of our pool side days of leisure.

The next morning came quickly, with a driver picking us up at our hotel just after seven. This time we booked our snorkeling excursion with a local travel agency, rather than the Marriott concierge. When we arrived at the dock, it was quite evident that no luxury hotel would send its guests to this small dock, hidden between rows of massive Thai fishing boats, which evidently still had the remains of their catch aboard, scenting the warm morning air. Many other budget minded tourists waited nearby. We decided that it was just as fun to experience a more authentic travel experience, despite packaged chicken sandwiches for lunch  and an engine that spewed black smoke each time the crew struggled to start it.

After boarding our private speedboat we raced across the deep aqua sea to our first island, which was a small rock jutting skyward, completely deserted except for a small wooden gazebo on the back side. Before jumping in, the guide tossed in a piece of sandwich bread. In a split second, hundreds of brightly colored fish were bouncing over each other for a nibble. We knew this would be a great day to see fish. We slipped on our flippers and tugged on our face masks and leaped into the cool water. Fish surrounded us, accepting us as their own as we swam in their schools. After thirty minutes of watching the small creatures dart about us, and attempting to catch them over and over but with no success, we climbed back on the boat and sped to our next island. This one was lined with bright beach chairs and stripped umbrellas, a thatched roof bar served drinks and island dwelling Thai's mulled around their small commercial establishment. As soon as we set our bags next to a chair, a Thai girl popped out and informed us that the chair would be three dollars to rent. We looked around, and with no other options handed over a 100 bhat bill. Soon the boat crew brought us watermelon slices and pineapple and we switched off between slipping into the small cove surrounding the white sand that our toes were dug into and diving into our books that we couldn't resist bringing. For the next hour my thoughts switched between life in the American Southwest desert, the setting for the book The Glass Castle, and the marine life and cool water that engulfed me each time I made my way to the sea to cool off and greet the local fish. The whistle blew too soon and we loaded onto the boat and were off to our last island. Our guide pointed to a young Thai perched on the back of our boat and informed us that he was  "Mr. Shark." This last island was home to a family of seven sharks and Mr. Shark would gladly help us find them, we were told. I stayed in the safe zone with schools of benign stripped fish while Jenny and Jonny swam off with Mr. Shark. Years ago I would have joined him and hopefully years in the future, soon after Ezra is eighteen, I will track down Mr. Shark for a second chance, but right now I am in the risk aversion phase of my life. Jonny and Jenny returned with reports of a huge shark, "the size of Jenny." They said they felt completely safe and Mr. Shark claimed that only the white ones bite. However, today I was happy with the kindly fish that I swam with. 

Soon we cruised across the Andaman, back through the fishing boats and to the dock. Our driver was waiting for us and zipped us to the Marriott. After throwing our belongings into our suitcases for our trip back to Bangkok, we headed to the pools and massage tables for a few more hours of relaxation. We said our thank yous and good-byes to Jonny and Jenny, hopped in a cab and left for Phuket's airport. We realized that our stay at Phuket's Marriott was perhaps a once in a life time moment and we were sad to leave.