Islands part I

I guess the place to begin with for islands is that it was a course cobinding two of my greatest interests: Environment in relation to Tourism, and Reef ecology / aventure sports.

I Loved it. The first time I saw a reef it almost stopped my heart again. I thought “I could do this for the rest of my life”. We had just arrived on course. Our 24 hour bus ride had ended in reaching a small port town, with a marina tucked into mangroves (which remineded me of Florida, shout out to Alli, Q, Beth, and Glenn!). At the small town I went out on my own for lunch and found a busy little Thai restaurant, and sat at at table with several Chow Lay (sea people) fisherman and chatted with them. It was exciting to be speaking to Thai strangers on my own, especially with their souther accents which were hard to decifer at first. Later we boarded a speed boat and took a four hour ride through patchy islands, and expanses of blue and teal water.

The park we arrived in had three islands, Rawi (where we landed) and Adang which were both part of the national park, and a thirld smaller, flat island: Lipe. This island had been allocated to the native Urak Lawoi people as their land when the park was formed. Many/most of the Urak Lawoi sold their land there, and now it is being absolutely consumed by development (much more later). There are many little islands to, and each are ringed by coral reefs.

We arrived at Rawi to a swath of white sand beach, with a few coconut trees, and a low moutian of jungle/forest rising behind it. We had a camp of tents just inside some trees, and there was a national park station, which was a square house where our guides lived for the time. The amazing thing about the bay in which we were camped was the extreme fluctuation of the tides. At high tide, water lapped up right a the base of our campsite beach area, at low tide the whole bay turned into a intertidal flat land. Sand, chunks of dead corals, little rivulets of running water, muck.

It was pretty low tide when I first went out. I remember walking out the grey mud soft on my feet until I saw my first sea cucumber in the ankle deep water. I crouched down, put on my mask and stuck my face in the water. It was neet, I poked its stiff body, watched it do absolutely nothing, and was fascinated. Next I saw an urchin, spines gently waving in the pressure in of in flowing water. Next it was my first tiny fish – black and neo blue stipped diving under a rock. Then an annenomy! Then a field of staghorn coral as far as I could see (brown branching coral alike a bazillions buck’s antlers all packed togheter) the water level was so low (I was swimming in waist deep water) that I couldn’t flaot over them. I remember trying to tip toe thorugh and a tip breaking off with a crunch and a dusting of sand. I back tracked around. That’s when the reef started to open up.

Its so hard to describe a reef to anyone – you fly over it, floating and with skin diving (fancy way of saying diving without oxygen tanks) you can swoop and prowl through the bulkheads. Lumy masses of coral with fish meandering this way and that, waving annenomies, splashes of color, the glissening surface when you come back up, the sandy batches on the bottom…. I was euphoric at first, being there. As me and the other students swam around I saw a sting ray hiding in a sandy patch on the bottom, eventually he lifted lazily out of the sand and flapped off over the reef, his long purple barb trailing after him.

The reefs never got old for me. I barely ever wanted to go in, and whenever I would go in on my own even if I ahd been doing something fun like hanging on the beach or whatever, as soon as I saw the reef I got this great feeling like why wasn’t I doing this every second. Durring the trip Philip was my enduring partner is adoration and fascination with the biology around us and Marica was my parner in crime for being the last (annoying, sorry guys) ones for coming in off the reef. Both bio peopleinterested in art, we spend one night laying under the stars planning our secret career ambitions to be marine biologists by day and artists (her music and food me painting and poetry) by night.

We sea kayaked to several reefs in the area. Some had big rocks going into the water, other were flat and rolling off of beaches. I loved kayaking, as always, and felt at home in the boats. Unlike forests, where I was challenged by the hiking, I could make up for a lack of brust strength with good form. Also I love working my abs and arms hard.

Manuvering a boat through the water is such an art and joy. One day we went out there were crazy winds and currents (it was the strongest cycle of the tides – the day of the full moon) and to round one point we had to thow every ounce of our strength into the paddles. Surging forward as furiously as I could manage I barly crawled forward along the shore. It was amazing. I could feel the tiniest adjustments in improving my form tip the balance between being swept backwards by the wind of waves.

The waves were wonderful. Sometimes there were swells that would rock the boat (a few feet high (?), or they would break over your bow and roll down the spray skirt. One of the most fantastic moments of my whole time in Thailand was coming back from this same windy day ( we had to turn around there was no way we could keep going in the winds) and we were coming back in to the bay. The shallowness over the reef formed great waves, but it was low tide so we couldn’t make it in over the coral just below the surface. We paddled along the endge of the reef looking for a way in. I followed Pi Aaron far left to find a way through on that side and it was looking good, until all of a sudden huge waves came in behind us and swept into the area of light blue/green (shallow) water. Corals tips broke out of the surface. Aaron realized it was too shallow “well have to go back!” he yells but the waves were sweeping us forwads towards the reef! A big coral head broke the surface, swirling yellow. “no good” he yelles. “Should I go forward or back” I shout back as a huge wave sends my boat tremmorring, launched towards/through the shallows “Get backwards!” I look back and the biggest wave I have seen in Thailand is right behind me, I can see it has seconds before it breaks. I whip my paddle around and thrust my kayak backwards, climb the swell moments before it breaks on me….I make it!! The monster rushes forwards, surgin my kayak on it sback. Pi aaron, nearly below me… woosh! My paddle scrapes agaist cora for a brief moment but I manuvour past and we are flying, blackpaddeling back out into the deeper swells. It was so quick and so epic. I wrote in my journal “it was such a perfec tmis of adrenaline and exuberance, challenge na adventure, physical, technical, teamwork, peaceful. The sea”

We back around the reef, and I glided over the sweels and we came in by the high and dry mangroces with their arched roots. It was really hella far to carry the boats over the tidal flats, so some of us tied up on the mangrove tip of the peninsula and walked in. before dinner (which was pasts and pesto!!!) Philip and I expored the intertidal zone, after we had to go back to get our boats.

But the full moon had already carried in several meters of water into the bay. We hiked the beach to the mangroces and sloshed out into the thight deep water. It was awesome! To our left the moon rose over the mangrove, casting silvery and shadows over the sweet trees. The warm ocean swirled gently at our waists, our headlamps bobbed like stars out ahead. The bay was gently pulsing with waves. For the first time on the trip, a few stars poked out from the cloudy sky. We got out to our boats, kocking restlessly about eachother like teathered horses. We untied the kayaks, prepared them for eh rde back and paddle out into the glittering water. Night kayaking under the full moon, the perfect soft water, glassy, a live reef sleeping and a sandy bottom a few meters below our boats. We laghed grinned, trailed our fingertips in the water, Frenchi snapped pictures, a cicade hummed, more stars came out. Our pod slowly paddled in the still water together, maybe we were whales not horses.

It was like the wind was breathing us towards shore. “you gave me goosebumbs!” said frenchi when I told her, she said the ocean breaths yesterday – watching the annenomies wave in the current.

When the tide goes out, the long tail boats tied up near camp are left high and dry. That night, the water high, I carried my stuff out over my head and climbed aboard the deck. The waves rocked and knocked on the boat. I wrote the journal I just copied from by moon light. The wind was humid and warm. I slept on the boat, and when I woke up the next morning I was high and dry again.

Gosh, there are just so many moments to recount.

Some other activites we did on the first half of the course were:
- hiking around in a mangrove and walking about on the roots. Later we went back snorkeling. It was kinda spooky, but it made me feel like I was inside the mangrove tank at the Shed Aquarium. I actually got that feeling a lot, on the reef, like I was inside an aquarium and it always made the whole thing a little bit more exciting.
- Pi Aaron told us we could touch the annenomies without getting stung because our skin was thicker than a fish’s and we were so large. I dove down and did this, and it feel cool – “just like you would imagine” and also some tips sort of stuck to you fingers. Then I thought “hey, you know what would be really cool to be able to say I did / do. Something most people don’t do…. I could put my face in one.” So I swam closer…closter… OUCH!!AHGJSSOGI! The annenomie stings on my lips felt like I had just eaten something really really spicy and then got punched in the mouth. For the rest of the day I had “spicy” lips.
- Philip and I went out on a rough day, at the end of the day. It was low tide and we had to walk about past the mangroves to get to the reef. The water was murky and brown. When there was no coral it was pretty scary because you couldn’t see anything at all. When there was coral it rose mysteriously out of the murky water. We were about to go back in when suddenly, right in front of me, the size of a basket ball is a LIONFISH!!! (go look up a picture if you don’t know what I mean) its fans of long fins waved ominously, as it hovered over the reef. I got Philip over as quickly as possible and we just watched it as it watched us. I swear it started to stare us down and slowly advance on us. Lionfish are very poisonous, so we keep a careful distance. Then on the way back we saw two more!!
- We kept getting ticks, some in ears or on backs. Their not so gross as the bits just ache for weeks. We think they were hanging out in our hammocks. (don’t
- Worry no lime disease in Thailand)
- We had a fire on the beach and waited until the tide came and a big wave put it out with a rush of steam.
- The beach was covered with little hermit crabs.
- Sun rise over the tide flats.
- On our long kayak day where we moved to a new island, Emily got sea sick in her kayak as we were crossing a channel between two islands and puked off the side of her boat. the hilarious thing was the first thing she thought was “nutrient cycling!”.
- We did an pilot study research project on one reef. We got two days to make observations, come up with a research question, then design the study and do it. It was super fun! I explored a possible correlation between Harold’s angel fish and staghorn coral (i think the coral causes them to school because of the density of hiding spots).
- I had the thought at one point: Some time in my life I want to have a job that gives me pruned fingers.

more later,

Love love love, Gigi