PART ONE
The island of Ko Yao Yai (Big Long Island) lies half way between Phuket and PhiPhi island in Thailand.
It is not a popular tourist destination. Beaches are sparse and rocky, impenetrable tropical rain forest covers most of the island, mangroves line the bay, water green and uninviting and compared to the beautiful white sandy palm-treed islands of Phuket and PhiPhi, Yao Yai is the ugly sister.
But we have always loved the island.
It is a forgotten paradise away from the hubbub of foreign holiday makers.
On the south west tip of the island, at the head of the bay a waterway through the mangroves leads inland to hidden communities, coconut plantations, rubber trees and rice paddy fields.
The waterway is only accessible at high tide, and, timing it so as not to be caught stranded, we have often motored our dinghy for miles between canopies of mangroves, taking our guests to visit the villages off the beaten track, to see the boat building industry at the side of the waterway, and to watch a special show that the villagers would treat us to of monkeys collecting the coconuts from the top of the palm trees.
While waiting for the tide we would visit a little fishing village built on stilts and tucked around a corner of the huge shallow bay. When we first visited it, to get to the village one had to clamber up a collection of rickety planks, precariously tied and nailed together, through the houses and onto the sandy road behind.
But in recent times a new pier was built, and the colourful flags of the fish traps and brightly garlanded fishing boats and longtails mirrored in the calm water of the bay made some stunning photography.
We joined the locals who gathered at a little “supermarket” on stilts along the road for their cup of tea and snacks; sticky rice neatly wrapped in banana leaves, coconut “cookies” and other culinary delights of unknown origin. On one occasion Don was invited to join the fishermen in sharing their mid day meal – squid grilled over the hot coals uncleaned and dripping in black ink.
If ever we had extras on board - clothes left or donated, or the odd pots and pans, we left them at the “tea house” and the little village became special to us. Children always ran to greet us, waiting for their photo to be taken and admiring themselves on the digital images, mothers would greet us shyly with their “Where you go?” enquiries that never needed an answer and the fishermen would scale a palm tree and offer us a drink from freshly picked coconuts.
Then there was Dang.
We first met her at Yao Yai on a visit during the “off season” when Desre (our daughter) was home. She and Desre had mutual friends on PhiPhi island where she worked and where Des had spent a season, and walking through the paddy fields she called on a group of children to show us a way to the beach. I wrote in one of my letters home about it……..
“They chased and played along a path beckoning us to follow and leading us through the most picturesque little valley. They bounded up steep banks, rickety wooden ladders (one of which our collective weights didn’t hold!) and along a narrow little path that humped and bumped through brilliant green rice paddies whose plants were waist high. The path was well worn and planked over rivulets that fed the fields on either side. The usual stilted “rest house” with its reed walls and thatched roof in the middle of the fields, the border of coconut palms with the late afternoon sunlight, slanted and misty and the old lady with her conical hat and slasher completed the fairy tale picture. It was SO beautiful, and although we had a camera it was impossible to capture the mood. But I drank it all in – our little family, Don, Des and I in this beautiful setting that is Thailand. Even now, sitting on the foredeck and looking over the open sea I still see the children with Desre cart-wheeling on the little beach. I have stored all the memories in the corner of my mind for all the days to come…..”
Perhaps it was because the Tsunami hit during the Christians season of good will, or perhaps with the aid of internet the terrible natural disaster could be viewed so close to real time. Perhaps because some of the stories were so heart breaking, of children being torn from parents arms, of husbands being separated from wives by the angry sea, of young people lost and unaccounted for. For whatever reason it seems that the tragic events of the 26th December, sparked a human wave of compassion as big as that of the natural disaster.
We watched as hundreds of volunteers poured in to Phuket, teams of youngsters bent on helping in the search for lost people, in the re-building of what had been devastated; people from all walks of life giving of themselves. We heard of the disaster aid and the billions that were pledged and we marveled.
But in Thailand the focus was on Phuket where the disaster toll was the highest.
And although losses suffered by tourists were immense, locals who lost not only families, but homes and livelihoods faced even greater challenges.
We worried about a little community that had always been so friendly towards us.
And we set out to look for Dang.
It was a joyous reunion when we found her on the island of Yao Yai.
She had escaped from PhiPhi where she was working, by the Grace of God she had survived the Tsunami, and we re-lived the horror of her experience with her on that first meeting. We walked through the village together and our hearts went out to those poor people who had had so little and now had even less.
Off the beaten track, away from the publicity of tourism, the sea gypsy villagers seemed the forgotten people – dejected and bewildered by the disaster.
Fishing boats and longtails lay washed up in the mangroves at the head of the bay, or up-turned, broken and submerged.
As subsistence fishermen, their livelihood had been snatched from them, and it was obvious that none of them had the means to rebuild their lives.
We had a meeting with the Poh Yai (head man) and with our friend Dang interpreting we understood that they had been given rice and powdered milk and they knew that they would be given a subsidy to repair the pier. They hoped eventually for more.
But in the meantime we wanted to help.
We weren’t able to assist financially, but we had the ability to get stuck in physically, and with Don’s expertise with engines, we could be of some use to the villagers. But without money for spares, there was no point in our expertise.
And that’s when an amazing thing happened.
Family, friends and people we had never met, contacted us offering aid if we could find a cause and their contribution would be assured of getting right where it was needed.
An answer to prayer.
And the villagers were overjoyed…………..
PART TWO.........................
In the first stage of the project we had gone looking for our friend Dang on the island of Yao Yai knowing that she had been on PhiPhi Island when the Tsunami hit on the 26th December. PhiPhi had been one of the worst hit areas, with thousands of people dead or missing.
But Dang had survived and back in her home village with her mother, husband and baby son, Forest, in the numbing aftershock of it all, we surveyed the damage on Yao Yai. The fishing pier, homes and fishing boats had been smashed or washed away. Loss of life on the island had been minimal, although many had lost loved ones who were working on other islands.
They had so little and they had lost so much.
We wanted to help.
And then we were sent a gift…..an offer of aid from friends, family and even strangers which enabled us on behalf of so many to reach across the hand of compassion.
Initially we were reluctant to hand over cash to the sea gypsy islanders; we needed them to help themselves. So we sailed back to Chalong Bay in Phuket for a few days to be in email contact with people and to co-ordinate and do feasibility on the how and wherefore of boat parts – timber and engines and spares
Meetings with people in the know, chance encounters with major donors, and research that led from one issue to another ensued. The time factor was the main source of concern. The fishermen relied on their boats to sustain themselves. They needed to repair and build them as quickly as possible.
Traditionally the Thai fishing boats use timber of six feet and longer for new boats and the route we learnt, was to acquire it illegally, which in turn led to the greater problem of deforestation in Burma and Indonesia and so on ad infinitum.
We needed a way around the wood issue, so we began the “easier” task of looking at engines and spares.
But ultimately we realized that the villagers would be able to buy these commodities much cheaper and a lot quicker than we could.
So after a week of deliberating, we sailed back to Yao Yai to confer with the Poh Yai. (Head man of the village)
…………..and to lend a hand where we were able.
It was amazing to see that the villagers had not been idle.
Without the pier they were unable to get their fishing boats to shore to offload their catch. The noise of chopping in the jungle resounded and a makeshift pier was already being built.
Houses that hadn’t washed away were being fixed; those that had, renewed.
There was an air of determination.
Boats that could be salvaged were pulled up onto the beach and planks from the jungle were being planed and hammered into place.
Engines were hauled out and open to dry out in the sun.
Everywhere there was a buzz of activity.
No air conditioned workshops here – working under the shade of trees when one was lucky enough or under a boat
Perhaps a makeshift tarp,
or in the open under the scorching hot sun husbands and wives, side by si
And the only ones who took a break
Were those too small to work
Or the infirm
We spoke to the Poh Yai.
For those who had lost fishing boats, they would have to wait till government aid eventually seeped through, to replace them. In the meantime if the boats that had just been damaged could be repaired and engines fixed or in some cases, replaced, then we would have been of enormous help.
Each of the villagers who had suffered losses was to submit their names and the extent of their loss, and Dang would be the coordinator of money.
She was incredibly bright, and amazed us at the speed of her calculations, and the respect from the villagers that she commanded for her young years.
And after a week, we all went our separate ways once more.
Dang to Krabi Town on the mainland to look for work, Poh Yai to look for lost relatives in the Kaew Lak area, the villagers with renewed spirits, to building and repairing and us to sail back to Phuket to collect the money.
We planned to meet back in Kho Yao Yai the following week.
TO
BE CONTINUED……………………………..
