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Up the River
By Kerrie Hall and Heinrich
Kraft
Boat tours and charters abound in these local waters,
but PHUKET Magazine went cruising for a daytrip with a difference. Whether
of roughing it in a longtail, kayaking with macaques or cruising in luxury,
the memories are indelible.
Leaving through myriad brightly painted Thai fishing
vessels, River Rover’s Pitta heads along Tha Then canal to the open sea.
Naked sea nomad children run along weathered planks and wave from their
waterside shacks. Busy with laundry tub chores, women stare across the water
and break into friendly smiles. A longtail boat follows our craft, the crew
looking every bit like pirates of old. “Most people never see this side of
Phuket,” says our host Gordon Williams, director of River Rovers cruises.
 It’s an interesting
side of Phuket — well removed from the hustle of main roads and tourist
haunts. All aboard this boat are locals, and none of us eight had realized
that this pocket was the real Phuket of yesteryear. The island of Siray is
separated from Phuket by a very narrow mangrove creek and attached by a
small traffic bridge. It’s so very close to the action yet so far away in
terms of cultural identity.
“Development” has little affected Siray, and the natural beauty away from
the port adds a Sunday feeling to this Saturday. Mangrove leaves of orange,
brown and green float in the gentle wake as we cruise up the west coast of
Phuket. An exotic big wat, a temple, towers from seemingly untouched jungles
on the mainland, the only visible trace of man apart from an occasional
coastal villa development. In reality, behind the hills and the wat zooms a
very busy main island.
The sleepy islands of Koh Maphrao and Koh Rang Yai loom ahead. On some
occasions, the River Rover cruises toward a white-sand beach for a spot of
jungle mountain-biking and a beach barbeque. The trips are totally flexible,
designed to suit the whims of guests. “You can stop where you like to kayak
and swim,” Gordon tells us. “Up to you, you’re boss”.
We near a floating village of mussel farms. The small dwellings have bamboo
walls and thatched roofs and sit atop drums on the water. Salty sea dogs
scamper among swinging hammocks and along the wooden decking that lead off
to the aquatic mussel fields. Today, we dock at a floating village for a
seafood lunch feast, fresh from the waters around us. It’s a casual affair —
a mum-and-dad operation of raw timber décor and festive flower pots, and
every morsel of mussels, fish, prawn and crab deliciously washed down with
crispy white wine.
We lower kayaks from the main boat. The small islands beckon, and as we
paddle along an ever-narrowing creek lined by mangrove forests, the only
sounds to be heard are the sharp pop of air bubbles among aerial roots like
large spider legs among the tree trunks. The creek takes us as far as it can
and, just as we approach the point where we turn back, a band of sea gypsies
appear from the bushes; two men with shrimp nets and a small girl carrying a
woven basket set about fishing for their own lunch.
The flat hull of River Rover allows us to cruise close to deserted beaches,
gliding effortlessly above coral reefs in these shallow waters. Not many
other boats are designed to traverse these passages, so we have the whole
area to explore in peace. As we near the western beach on Maphrao Island,
sea eagles soar in circles above. There’s nothing on the beach but a hut, a
hammock and a gang of dragonflies celebrating at the jungle edge in the
afternoon heat. Think Gilligan’s Island without the annoying millionaire and
his wife. We swim and wander the shores.
Returning to port in the late afternoon, we round Koh Siray on the ocean
side. From this perspective, the island appears uninhabited bar a couple of
waterfront homes. The raw natural beauty is enhanced by rocky headlands
jutting out from forested hills. A lighthouse, sleeping until nightfall,
sits atop Koh Chapao. This small island hosts a population of nothing beyond
a small team from the Royal Thai Navy and a gaggle of hornbills living in
harmony with the men who protect this speck of the Kingdom. Or so Gordon
tells me, as he passes an iced gin and tonic. But that’s a story for another
day.
For more information,
see: www.riverrovers.com |
