Anyone who stays on Koh Phayam for a length of time knows just how cyclical the island is. From mid-October until mid-December, there are few foreigners, the vibe is mellow and there are plenty of opportunities to get to know the local people, rekindle relationships and enjoy some quiet time in their company. This time of the year is a particular favourite of mine.
The switch gets flipped somewhere around December 20th when the holiday-makers arrive in droves. Gone is the backpack toting, wannabe hippy crowd - welcome to the suitcase with wheels world. Space is tight, rates are raised as everyone wants those elusive Euros and dollars. People are too busy to remember to breath and everyone starts the whine that they are working too hard.
Things level out somewhat in March and the downturn in arrivals is gradual. This season, the weather was very unusual and March saw a lot of rain. It damaged the cashew crop and the psyche of tourists, who left in flocks. The island was deserted and it seemed as though that peaceful "end of season" period was upon us. Then, along comes Songkran - Thai New Year - and along come the expats on holiday, along come the Thais and along comes the water. Songkran is always a special time of year in small communities like Koh Phayam. Here, the flavour is participation not aggravation. Sure, you might find some cold water, or colored powder, but that comes from someone you know - someone to whom you can return the favour.
My last days on Koh Phayam delivered fantastic surf! Check out the Beach Report for a full breakdown. To view surf photos, click here.
As happens every year, I visited my Weaving for Women friends in Sangkhlaburi, near the Three Pagodas Pass Burmese border crossing. It has been a tough year for them as tourism was especially low this year following the October clashes on the border, poor weather, a dismal world economy and so on. Nonetheless, I am continually impressed by their endurance, survival skills and above all continued ability to smile in the midst of all these trials and tribulations. The town continues to change with each passing day.
Check out the full edition of The Coconut Telegraph. Click here.
And so, it is time to pack up, carry on and return to try and find some elusive dollars for the next adventure.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Surf Koh Phayam
It's one of those things we never look forward to, yet something we shall never evade. It's called change. It comes in many forms, wags as many tails as it tells tales and rarely delivers the goods.
But sometimes, change is good. And here is one example that I have had the pleasure to watch evolve. Surf Koh Phayam, located at South Star Surf Bar, is a welcome addition to the island scene. Surfing is healthy and fun - without even mentioning the "zen" thing, simple pleasures or gravity sport adrenaline.
As I watch the number of riders in the water grow from one to six in as many years, I do not fear crowds. There are plenty of other convenient places to ride - but there will not likely be as many places as friendly.
Drop in on me - no problem - I might grab hold of your board and shake it if I know you. Otherwise, I will turn away and look for the next ride. It's always 'the next ride'. Analogies could be made - but there shall be none.
This also brings potential for the off-season, when we have all forgotten our so-called "friends" on the island and lie basking in the western sun and western earnings while they are pounded by rain, wind and WAVES. Yes, I did say WAVES. The off-season is wave season. More surfers from May to October means more opportunity for the surf gurus as well as the island. And with the surf scene growing, maybe this change will be one for the better.
GoPro HD Surf HERO Camera
But sometimes, change is good. And here is one example that I have had the pleasure to watch evolve. Surf Koh Phayam, located at South Star Surf Bar, is a welcome addition to the island scene. Surfing is healthy and fun - without even mentioning the "zen" thing, simple pleasures or gravity sport adrenaline.
As I watch the number of riders in the water grow from one to six in as many years, I do not fear crowds. There are plenty of other convenient places to ride - but there will not likely be as many places as friendly.
Drop in on me - no problem - I might grab hold of your board and shake it if I know you. Otherwise, I will turn away and look for the next ride. It's always 'the next ride'. Analogies could be made - but there shall be none.
This also brings potential for the off-season, when we have all forgotten our so-called "friends" on the island and lie basking in the western sun and western earnings while they are pounded by rain, wind and WAVES. Yes, I did say WAVES. The off-season is wave season. More surfers from May to October means more opportunity for the surf gurus as well as the island. And with the surf scene growing, maybe this change will be one for the better.
GoPro HD Surf HERO Camera
Thursday, March 10, 2011
From Swell to Hell
From the beach, the waves looked perfect. In the early morning, the conditions were glassy and a slight offshore breeze created that classic mist blowing off the top of the breaking waves. Each wave appeared to set up in a regular cycle, peeling off to the right and inviting us into the ocean.
But looks can be deceiving. If you have never surfed a reef break before, it can be daunting. Paddling out, the waves appear larger than from the shore. And the sight of the reef a mere meter or two below is a sobering reminder of the potential danger. The first time you paddle into a wave, you cannot help but notice that the water covering the reef is sucked away as the wave stands up. The coral heads suddenly become a half meter or less below. Everything starts to happen quickly and one false move will dump you. If you are lucky, you can lie flat in the soup. If you get pushed down, there is the inevitable reef rash.
The difference between a surf board and a waveski is that a surfer can kick the board away and lie flat but the waveski rider is strapped on. This means that your head is now that lowest point and occasionally uncomfortably close to the coral. You learn to get upright fast or pop the escape on the buckle and get flat on the surface. But these are the risks you take when you ride the reef swell.
More dangerous in West Lampung is getting to and from the reef. The common method is to ride a motorcycle with a rack mounted on the left side to carry your board. The roads are barely wide enough for two cars to pass, so caution (hati-hati - slowly-slowly) is the motto. They are always littered with an assortment of cows, goats, sheep, dogs, carts, rice sacks, people, cars, trucks, motorcycles and more. Add a liberal dose of potholes or toss in a narrow bridge and driving can be a hellish nightmare.
The road often resembles a gathering place more than a transportation zone. People stand on the road smoking cigarettes and talking. It is not uncommon to see several motorcycles parked on the road and a group of people sitting on the road chatting. The horn is your friend - you must beep to pass everything and the more frantic the beeping the greater haste made to move. Of course the trump card is the air horn from a big truck - everything scatters.
But the number one danger on the road is the teenage kids. They ride like fools two, three or four motorcycles together, racing, weaving back and forth, slowing down, speeding up and paying little attention to the horn system.
When a foreigner (boo-lay) passes they try to reach over and pat your shoulder. Not entirely smart on any given day, but add that surf board and rack to the left side and things get uncomfortably close. In a worst case scenario, the bike can hook the board and the kids can go flying across the road.
I know - I have witnessed this up close and personally.
So, in the world of calculated risks, the reef and the swell are far better than the road and its hell. Hati-Hati.
To read more about the Sumatra Surf Trip. please visit:
http://timmorch.com/Coconut Telegraph/Volume 18/coconut_telegraphV18.htm
But looks can be deceiving. If you have never surfed a reef break before, it can be daunting. Paddling out, the waves appear larger than from the shore. And the sight of the reef a mere meter or two below is a sobering reminder of the potential danger. The first time you paddle into a wave, you cannot help but notice that the water covering the reef is sucked away as the wave stands up. The coral heads suddenly become a half meter or less below. Everything starts to happen quickly and one false move will dump you. If you are lucky, you can lie flat in the soup. If you get pushed down, there is the inevitable reef rash.
The difference between a surf board and a waveski is that a surfer can kick the board away and lie flat but the waveski rider is strapped on. This means that your head is now that lowest point and occasionally uncomfortably close to the coral. You learn to get upright fast or pop the escape on the buckle and get flat on the surface. But these are the risks you take when you ride the reef swell.
More dangerous in West Lampung is getting to and from the reef. The common method is to ride a motorcycle with a rack mounted on the left side to carry your board. The roads are barely wide enough for two cars to pass, so caution (hati-hati - slowly-slowly) is the motto. They are always littered with an assortment of cows, goats, sheep, dogs, carts, rice sacks, people, cars, trucks, motorcycles and more. Add a liberal dose of potholes or toss in a narrow bridge and driving can be a hellish nightmare.
The road often resembles a gathering place more than a transportation zone. People stand on the road smoking cigarettes and talking. It is not uncommon to see several motorcycles parked on the road and a group of people sitting on the road chatting. The horn is your friend - you must beep to pass everything and the more frantic the beeping the greater haste made to move. Of course the trump card is the air horn from a big truck - everything scatters.
But the number one danger on the road is the teenage kids. They ride like fools two, three or four motorcycles together, racing, weaving back and forth, slowing down, speeding up and paying little attention to the horn system.
When a foreigner (boo-lay) passes they try to reach over and pat your shoulder. Not entirely smart on any given day, but add that surf board and rack to the left side and things get uncomfortably close. In a worst case scenario, the bike can hook the board and the kids can go flying across the road.
I know - I have witnessed this up close and personally.
So, in the world of calculated risks, the reef and the swell are far better than the road and its hell. Hati-Hati.
To read more about the Sumatra Surf Trip. please visit:
http://timmorch.com/Coconut Telegraph/Volume 18/coconut_telegraphV18.htm
Friday, December 3, 2010
Scenes from "The Beach"
It was kind of like a scene from "The Beach". Unfortunately, there were no mythical marijuana plantations or spectacular waterfalls, or Lord of the Flies lifestyle (Kill the Pig!), but there was a lure, a hook if you will (as fishing seems to be my new hobby and the ocean my new supermarket).
My friend Chen whispered about a place he called "Aow Yai Kim", not far from his village on the mainland. When I presented him with a chart, he was uncertain, but thought it was one of two islands between Koh Phayam and the mainland. Chen recognized the island in front of his village and showed me where his home was on the chart - so I knew he was in the zone when he pointed at a possible location. What piqued my interest was the part about big waves when the swell was up - Chen said that the fishermen speak of huge waves on the beach.
So, one morning I paddled out in search of a beach that locals from the mainland seem to revere and few from Koh Phayam know by name. Initially, I crossed to Koh Tha Wua Dam, about 17km from Aow Yai, just off the mainland. When I arrived, I discovered it was all rocky, no beach. From the chart, I thought this island was a potential surf break as there is a large rock at the end of the bay that looks like it could kick up the swell. The rock is not on the Admiralty Charts but it is definitely on my GPS. But the GPS is not "god" because according to my electronic data, I paddled across an island. Add or subtract a few hundred meters and everything is OK. On this side of the world, a few hundred meters is nothing.
Undeterred, I asked a local crab fisherman if he knew where "Aow Yai Kim" was. Without hesitation, he pointed further north to Koh Sai Dam. In the distance, I could see the white strip of sand on the beach.
As my Feathercraft glided through the surprisingly blue-green sea, I approached the beach. I could see a small longtail anchored in the shallow water and four Thai men cooking. I landed and walked over to greet them. As Thai people always do, the second thing they said was "khin khao" (literally, it means 'eat rice', but it is the Thai invitation to eat). And so, we did.
We ate fish they caught on their "boys 24-hour fishing and drinking trip" and - naturally - rice. Captain Chao showed me a 15kg barracuda they caught and we laughed as we ate together. As bad as my Thai is, we were still able to communicate without problem. "Thai style", as they say, the guys picked up their dishes, boarded the longtail, shook hands, said goodbye and were off.
I walked up and down the beach - envisaged the swell packing in between the two wee islands just a hundred meters offshore and pictured myself as the first rider on a new break. Dreams are free - and they are fantastic!
My friend Chen whispered about a place he called "Aow Yai Kim", not far from his village on the mainland. When I presented him with a chart, he was uncertain, but thought it was one of two islands between Koh Phayam and the mainland. Chen recognized the island in front of his village and showed me where his home was on the chart - so I knew he was in the zone when he pointed at a possible location. What piqued my interest was the part about big waves when the swell was up - Chen said that the fishermen speak of huge waves on the beach.
So, one morning I paddled out in search of a beach that locals from the mainland seem to revere and few from Koh Phayam know by name. Initially, I crossed to Koh Tha Wua Dam, about 17km from Aow Yai, just off the mainland. When I arrived, I discovered it was all rocky, no beach. From the chart, I thought this island was a potential surf break as there is a large rock at the end of the bay that looks like it could kick up the swell. The rock is not on the Admiralty Charts but it is definitely on my GPS. But the GPS is not "god" because according to my electronic data, I paddled across an island. Add or subtract a few hundred meters and everything is OK. On this side of the world, a few hundred meters is nothing.
Undeterred, I asked a local crab fisherman if he knew where "Aow Yai Kim" was. Without hesitation, he pointed further north to Koh Sai Dam. In the distance, I could see the white strip of sand on the beach.
As my Feathercraft glided through the surprisingly blue-green sea, I approached the beach. I could see a small longtail anchored in the shallow water and four Thai men cooking. I landed and walked over to greet them. As Thai people always do, the second thing they said was "khin khao" (literally, it means 'eat rice', but it is the Thai invitation to eat). And so, we did.
We ate fish they caught on their "boys 24-hour fishing and drinking trip" and - naturally - rice. Captain Chao showed me a 15kg barracuda they caught and we laughed as we ate together. As bad as my Thai is, we were still able to communicate without problem. "Thai style", as they say, the guys picked up their dishes, boarded the longtail, shook hands, said goodbye and were off.
I walked up and down the beach - envisaged the swell packing in between the two wee islands just a hundred meters offshore and pictured myself as the first rider on a new break. Dreams are free - and they are fantastic!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Fishing Tales & Other Lies
So there I am, floating around Koh Kham fishing. I seem to do this more and more.
A friend of mine grew up here and as a girl, she recalls the excellent fishing at Koh Kham. One night when she and her brother were out fishing she casually dipped her toes in the water as she did on many other outings. Her brother was pulling in a fish and there was some action in the water. She watched as half a fish came into the boat and quickly pulled her foot out. They never knew if it was a barracuda or a shark.
I actually have a jack on board and there has been plenty of action. The current is moving and I am constantly readjusting position to stay close to the current without getting pushed onto the rocks. I check over my shoulder frequently to keep an eye on the swell that is rolling in.
It's interesting how one minute you are floating along tossing a line at the rocks and the next you are back-paddling with decisiveness as a big rolling wave wants to lift you up and deposit you on the rocks. It happens quickly. Compound that with a fish on the line and it can get interesting.
I reel in my line and shoulder check, when out of the corner of my eye I see motion and hear a big WHACK! As I turn, an eagle ray lands and hits the water's surface with an equally resounding WHACK! National Geographic moment, for sure.
This is also the place where I ran into nine sea otters recently. I think the family arrived not long after the tsunami and I have seen them swimming about the island over the years. Last year, I saw them in front of Hippy Bar in Buffalo Bay and counted seven. There appear to be two smaller ones this year - I assume the kids - and the adults watch my kayak closely all the while calling amongst themselves in high pitched otter-talk. I tell them: "don't worry little friend, I am not here to harm you." I am not sure if they understand Tim-talk.
This is also where I watched a fishing boat pull in a hug net full of sardines. A couple dozen crewmen bring in the net, singing as they go, and haul the catch into a large wash basin. They boil them right there on the boat.
The beauty abounds: the ocean, the jungle, the sky. Sunset the other day had a rainbow.
And to cap it all off, on Nov 16th, a pod of approximately 9 to 12 dolphins sauntered along the beach at sunset.
A friend of mine grew up here and as a girl, she recalls the excellent fishing at Koh Kham. One night when she and her brother were out fishing she casually dipped her toes in the water as she did on many other outings. Her brother was pulling in a fish and there was some action in the water. She watched as half a fish came into the boat and quickly pulled her foot out. They never knew if it was a barracuda or a shark.
I actually have a jack on board and there has been plenty of action. The current is moving and I am constantly readjusting position to stay close to the current without getting pushed onto the rocks. I check over my shoulder frequently to keep an eye on the swell that is rolling in.
It's interesting how one minute you are floating along tossing a line at the rocks and the next you are back-paddling with decisiveness as a big rolling wave wants to lift you up and deposit you on the rocks. It happens quickly. Compound that with a fish on the line and it can get interesting.
I reel in my line and shoulder check, when out of the corner of my eye I see motion and hear a big WHACK! As I turn, an eagle ray lands and hits the water's surface with an equally resounding WHACK! National Geographic moment, for sure.
This is also the place where I ran into nine sea otters recently. I think the family arrived not long after the tsunami and I have seen them swimming about the island over the years. Last year, I saw them in front of Hippy Bar in Buffalo Bay and counted seven. There appear to be two smaller ones this year - I assume the kids - and the adults watch my kayak closely all the while calling amongst themselves in high pitched otter-talk. I tell them: "don't worry little friend, I am not here to harm you." I am not sure if they understand Tim-talk.
This is also where I watched a fishing boat pull in a hug net full of sardines. A couple dozen crewmen bring in the net, singing as they go, and haul the catch into a large wash basin. They boil them right there on the boat.
The beauty abounds: the ocean, the jungle, the sky. Sunset the other day had a rainbow.
And to cap it all off, on Nov 16th, a pod of approximately 9 to 12 dolphins sauntered along the beach at sunset.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
As Long as There is Water
My life is aqua-centric. I am drawn to water like a bug to light.
I recently returned from six months on Koh Phayam, an idyllic island on tropical Thailand's Andaman Coast. Countless hours in the ocean paddling a sea kayak, surfing a waveski and swimming never failed to bring a smile to my face. The ocean creeps into your system and becomes a drug. Like an addict, I need my water fix. Without the ocean or a lake or a river, I am incomplete.
When I left Koh Phayam, my first stop was Hong Kong Island. You are never far from the ocean and often find yourself riding a ferry between islands. Even the ferry to Discovery Bay on Lanta Island imparts a sense of the sea as the craft rolls past Chinese junks and sampans, private yachts, a fleet of other ferries and the inevitable morass of super tankers.
Returning to Ottawa, one of my first stops was Downie Island, in Canada's famous Thousand Islands. What a fantastic setting to call an office. The cruise ships pass regularly and pleasure craft of all shapes and sizes move about. Geese, loons, osprey and a host of other birds create a background symphony.
For the May long weekend, I visited Black Island (aka Kenny Island). The island is private and serene. The call of the loon floats eerily across the dawn as a deer slips silently to the water's edge for a drink. It is quite close to Ottawa yet seemingly so far from everything that you are transported to another world.
In the in-betweens, I have spent some glorious nights on Lac St. Antoine, watching the sun go down behind the Gatineau Hills as the colors shift and dance on the surface of the water.
In keeping with the water theme, my location for June will be Kennedy Lake. Although it is not an island, it is so remote that it may well be. Another superb office. I will watch and listen to "Maurice", the resident loon, admire the beaver and muskrat swimming below the surface of the crystal clear water, and give thanks for my good fortune.
As long as there is water, my soul is at peace.
I recently returned from six months on Koh Phayam, an idyllic island on tropical Thailand's Andaman Coast. Countless hours in the ocean paddling a sea kayak, surfing a waveski and swimming never failed to bring a smile to my face. The ocean creeps into your system and becomes a drug. Like an addict, I need my water fix. Without the ocean or a lake or a river, I am incomplete.
When I left Koh Phayam, my first stop was Hong Kong Island. You are never far from the ocean and often find yourself riding a ferry between islands. Even the ferry to Discovery Bay on Lanta Island imparts a sense of the sea as the craft rolls past Chinese junks and sampans, private yachts, a fleet of other ferries and the inevitable morass of super tankers.
Returning to Ottawa, one of my first stops was Downie Island, in Canada's famous Thousand Islands. What a fantastic setting to call an office. The cruise ships pass regularly and pleasure craft of all shapes and sizes move about. Geese, loons, osprey and a host of other birds create a background symphony.
For the May long weekend, I visited Black Island (aka Kenny Island). The island is private and serene. The call of the loon floats eerily across the dawn as a deer slips silently to the water's edge for a drink. It is quite close to Ottawa yet seemingly so far from everything that you are transported to another world.
In the in-betweens, I have spent some glorious nights on Lac St. Antoine, watching the sun go down behind the Gatineau Hills as the colors shift and dance on the surface of the water.
In keeping with the water theme, my location for June will be Kennedy Lake. Although it is not an island, it is so remote that it may well be. Another superb office. I will watch and listen to "Maurice", the resident loon, admire the beaver and muskrat swimming below the surface of the crystal clear water, and give thanks for my good fortune.
As long as there is water, my soul is at peace.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Hong Kong
Every time I visit Hong Kong I see a little more of this incredible collision of culture, commercialism and capitalism.
A week in the mid-levels - within walking distance of the central district is sensory overload. From the hustle and bustle of the daily grind to grind and hustle of the night time bustle, Hong Kong never stops.
I followed and photographed my friend Chris Watts, CSO (Chief Stretching Officer) of Stretch Asia, as he taught group stretch sessions in the Hong Kong Country Club, The Ladies Recreational Club, Deepwater Bay Golf Club and at Action Asia's Discovery Bay event: all in the course of one week. Needless to say it was a busy week.
Nevertheless, as Hong Kong does not sleep, it becomes imperative to try at least once a visit to follow the cities lead. The night out started at "The Wanch", a live music bar in Wanchai District, to listen to Ian Taylor and his band perform. This was followed by the show at Neptune's, one of the area's many bars. Each of these, needless to say, is packed with women all seeking the company of men. So it makes for quite a show. For someone with deep pockets it can be a dangerous place. For someone like myself with empty pockets it becomes a source of great entertainment.
An evening in Mong Kok, deep in the Chinese community, provides a glimpse into another world. The Ladies' Market covers several streets and is filled with every type of knockoff item one can imagine. The place is jam packed with people shopping and all that glitters shines bright in the sea of neon lights making this a "must do" experience.
Daytime shopping around Tsim Sha Tsui for electronics, sunglasses, photo gear and more knockoffs is fun, but be very wary when purchasing. All sales are final and most sales are phony.
Of course, no visit is complete without a walk through the park to check out the lemurs on the way to Pacific Place - or Specific Place as the kids call it.
All in all, Hong Kong is one of the few cities in the world that I like and I always look forward to the next visit.
A week in the mid-levels - within walking distance of the central district is sensory overload. From the hustle and bustle of the daily grind to grind and hustle of the night time bustle, Hong Kong never stops.
I followed and photographed my friend Chris Watts, CSO (Chief Stretching Officer) of Stretch Asia, as he taught group stretch sessions in the Hong Kong Country Club, The Ladies Recreational Club, Deepwater Bay Golf Club and at Action Asia's Discovery Bay event: all in the course of one week. Needless to say it was a busy week.
Nevertheless, as Hong Kong does not sleep, it becomes imperative to try at least once a visit to follow the cities lead. The night out started at "The Wanch", a live music bar in Wanchai District, to listen to Ian Taylor and his band perform. This was followed by the show at Neptune's, one of the area's many bars. Each of these, needless to say, is packed with women all seeking the company of men. So it makes for quite a show. For someone with deep pockets it can be a dangerous place. For someone like myself with empty pockets it becomes a source of great entertainment.
An evening in Mong Kok, deep in the Chinese community, provides a glimpse into another world. The Ladies' Market covers several streets and is filled with every type of knockoff item one can imagine. The place is jam packed with people shopping and all that glitters shines bright in the sea of neon lights making this a "must do" experience.
Daytime shopping around Tsim Sha Tsui for electronics, sunglasses, photo gear and more knockoffs is fun, but be very wary when purchasing. All sales are final and most sales are phony.
Of course, no visit is complete without a walk through the park to check out the lemurs on the way to Pacific Place - or Specific Place as the kids call it.
All in all, Hong Kong is one of the few cities in the world that I like and I always look forward to the next visit.
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