SECRET PEARL
On one journey from the Malaysian island of Penang to Bangkok in the late 1990s, my old friend Bob and I stopped off in Trang before making our way across to Koh Muk, a small Muslim island off the west coast. I don’t even remember how we came to know about it. It must have been from a friend on Koh Tao. It certainly wasn’t from any guide book because Koh Muk (Pearl Island) was virtually unknown and unvisited.
In fact, Bob and I, together with our friends Jim and Monique, who caught up with us a couple of days later, were the only farangs staying on the island while we were there. On a couple of beaches, half-hearted attempts had been made to build resorts, but they sat empty and neglected. There was one cluster of bungalows where we stayed and apart from that, there was no visible sign that tourism either had arrived or was even on the way. The eating arrangements were simple. There were no menus. There were no restaurants. It was always seafood and rice. Either meals were brought to us to eat in a communal area between the bungalows or we were invited to various houses.
Before Jim and Monique arrived, Bob and I set off to explore the island one day. We decided to try and get to the far side of the island as it wasn’t more than a few square kilometres. We made it to a deserted beach but only after crossing the mother of all rickety bridges across a wide mangrove swamp. At the beach there was a derelict building that could have once been a small hotel. It was hard to tell. It could just as easily have been a school. Now it was no more than a refuge for homeless lizards.
On another sweaty hike with Bob and Jim, we made it along the coast and through the jungle to a different deserted beach only to be joined by a well-heeled South African party who had come ashore from their yacht to drink champagne and play French bowls. It was like a scene from history with aristocratic Victorian-era settlers encountering primitive, bare-chested natives and wondering whether we would hail them as gods or cook them for dinner. We did neither, but we did drink some of their champagne.
A couple of days later, we chartered a boat for a trip round the island. We spotted monkeys in the trees and even a shark in one of the bays, although we never managed to see any of the very rare manatees that are still known to live in the area.
As we took a break in one of the bays, Jim and Bob jumped in for a swim. I grabbed my camera and took a couple of pictures. I decided to also take a picture of Bob who seemed to be waving at us. It was only later that I found out he was waving for help as the very strong current was preventing him from getting back to the boat. It’s just as well that I stayed in the boat.
My deep water phobia may possibly have saved my life on that occasion, but it also meant that I stayed in the boat again on a later stop and missed out on one of Koh Muk’s natural treasures. Bob, Jim and Monique swam through a cave entrance that was just visible above the water line. The cave turned out to be more of a tunnel that eventually took them to a beautiful hidden lagoon, surrounded by steep, jungle-clad cliffs and with a tiny white sand beach. At least, that’s what they told me they saw. They did stop short of mentioning herds of dinosaurs roaming in a lost valley, but it could have just been a cave for all I know.
We finished the day by visiting a neighbouring island for some snorkelling that was within my depth, before returning to Koh Muk for another dinner of seafood and rice.
Southern Thailand has countless Koh Muks just waiting to be discovered by the adventurous. Because of the lack of tourists, the locals are so open and friendly.
Koh Muk was, tragically, right in the path of the 2004 tsunami. I have no idea how badly the island was affected as all the news reports focused on the popular tourist destinations, but I pray that the wonderful people of this peaceful island were spared.
Paul Snowdon – Excerpt from Naked Farang: Four Weddings and a Coup
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