Sihanoukville

Boom. There it is, right below the text, our little bit of paradise. I mean, it's ok, but you can see by the photo how crowded it is.. In the photo, beyond the wharf that is being built at the end of the beach, you can see Sihanoukville proper. We are about five km as the crow flies from town, the last of the beach developments, so quite quiet. This morning Kim and I walked the beach away from town, swam across the mouth of a small river and onto another stretch of beach area with no development. But for a handful of Cambodians passing, we had the beach to ourselves. Beautiful. We may have skinny dipped.

*****

The area we are in is called Otres 2; Otres 1 is at the far end of Long Beach, and the kilometre which separates the two is, for now, public park. There are some high end resorts here and more are coming, but there remain some small, mom and pop operations. We are staying in such a place. Honeymoon Bungalows is run by Michael, a transplanted prospector from the Yukon Territories, and his Khmer wife. The resort features 9 bungalows around a central courtyard, and dining area/bar with rooms above. Micheal built the place himself three years ago using North American building practices, except that all the structural materials are hardwoods - comparable to mahogany in span tables. After seeing so many buildings around here using practices that seem so questionable to me, this place really stands out. Above the bar is a large room for families, a 5 bed dorm room, and a double which we are in. The wall boards in these rooms rise to 8' and just end, so the space above is common to all three rooms. There's not a lot going on in any other rooms that your neighbors are not aware of. Privacy is not an option, but the bed is very comfortable and our hosts are great. The dorm room is filled with 20 something pot heads who party all night (on the beach), return in the wee hours and sleep the sunlight hours away. They are, however, quite and respectfull of the place and other guests. Cold water showers.

In our last post, you heard about our troubles booking a room here and our luck at finding a room. Since then we have seen a dozen desperate souls in the lobby, hoping to find a room.  There are none to be hand anywhere on the beach; everyone is solidly booked. It seems we got the last room available  until well into January, and Michael has told us we can have the room as long as we like. We are feeling very fortunate.

Micheal and I have have hit it off really well. He has a guitar which, for the price changing the strings for him, I am welcome to play whenever I wish. We also share a love of the Canadian wilderness, so we have already had some lengthy chit chats over beers.

We are booked into a resort on Phu Quoc on the 5th, so I guess this is home for the next few days. A little hard to take, but we will manage somehow. We'll post some more photos in a while.

Trat to Sihanoukville

Reading back on what I have put down during this trip, I am struck by the convivial nature of the prose, an easy discription of place and events almost completely void of the sardonic rants which typified most of the writing during our trip last year. Why, I ask myself. What was so different between then and now? Right! I've been in one place for the last two months. Now,  having begun the travel part of our adventure, here comes the rant.

*****

We enjoyed our time in Trat. Our rooms were spacious, on the fourth floor of an older walk up, boasting two double beds squeezed together with a single fitted sheet, and - something almost unheard of in Thailand - very firm, but soft, mattresses. It was fun to walk around and remember how exotic the town seemed during our first trip here. We purchased our transport to Sihanoukville from our pleasant, German/Thai hosts and departed Trat yesterday morning.

The trip to the Hat Lek border crossing between Thailand and Cambodia was very quick. Very, very quick. Our driver cruised at about 140 km/hr, on roads which were not built for those speeds, and in traffic that was decidedly not moving at that rate. We passed everything, often on curves and hill crests that left us blind to on-coming traffic. A testiment to our experience traveling in the region, both Kim and I commented of this with a "meh". 

Hat Lek is legend amongst travelers of Cambodia for the brashness of the corruption practiced by the boarder officials. Everything in Cambodia is gamed but this border station stands out to such a degree that every travel guide includes a section devoted to just to Hat Lek. The Cambodian government web site specifies a charge of 1000 Thai Baht (about $30.00 USD) for a 30 day tourist visa when entering the country. Travel agents in Thailand don't even pretend that one will pay the official rate, quoting between 1200 and 1500 Baht, depending on how flush the captain is feeling. Kim and I were lucky enough to get the special "holiday" rate - lots of folks on the move for New Years Eve - of 1600 Baht. There is, however, a method to fight this corruption. The first step is to request a receipt for payment. Should one do so, they are directed across the street to a stand-alone, small building featuring two signs. The first reads, "receipts". The second reads, "closed". The building is in an area without tree cover, far from the market area and avoided by any street venders with their carts filled with food and drink. The sun beats down hard on the waiting area and without venders there is no water to be had. In talking with locals on both sides of the boarder, none have actually seen this office open, though rumours persist it has happened. The second step is un-known.

Kim and I were feeling like veteran travellers as we rejected the offers of touts to help us through the visa application process, though somewhat hurt when they offered a "who cares" response. The last time we passed this way, any suggestion that a traveller might manage their own crossing was met with dire warnings of great, long waits and buses on the other side departing without you, leaving you far from any services and without transport. This time, nothing. As well, we heard no requests from the the touts for a fee for their service. Regardless, Kim and I headed for the visa office, looking back at the "newbies" sitting in, upon reflection, a very nice waiting area, with awnings, newish benches and tables, and venders attending to their every want. Rookies. The visa process was quite easy, though somewhat time consuming, and we were working at it side by side with the touts holding the passports of all our fellow travels. Once we finished up, employees of the bus company directed us to wait in an area featuring an un-even dirt floor, broken and filthy plastic chairs, and under a torn and frayed tarp mounted 5' of the ground. A nice lady sold over priced, tepid beer. So. It seems the touts and the border officials had streamline the process to eliminate any of the unseemly arguments and the possibility that any traveller might cross the border without paying her full due, and that "who cares" attitude could be more fully expressed as, "we now work together in this little corruption and whether I do the work or you do, I will make exactly the same amount, so if you want to sit in the dirt while you wait for the bus to leave, fill your boots".

We finished up the visa process at about 12:30pm, waiting for a bus promised at 2:00pm, which we would board for the 6 hour trip to Sihanoukville. Everyone waiting knew that NO possibility existed of any bus leaving that border without every seat being filled, but hope burned within every heart. At about 1:00, a passenger van pulled up. Immediately, the nice beer lady began to opine that the bus we all waited for, the 2:00pm bus, was unlikely to leave before 6:00pm. But the lucky few, those willing to pay only 100 extra baht, could board this van for immediate departure for Sihanoukville. And because we were so fortunate, this van so powerful, it could make the journey in only four and a half hours (!!!!!). We're we among the select? Chosen to ride in air conditioned comfort in this powerful beast, destined to be welcomed in Sihanoukville in the full light of day, rather than skulking in under cover of dark? Were we? Abso-frickin'-lutely!

After we departed, and within a block of the border, we passed the 2:00pm bus on its way to the border. OK, but we rode in a craft of such comfort and speed that we would surely leave any mere bus, a vehicle intended for the transport of the great un-washed, far in our wake. Onward!

Out of Hat Lek, one climbs first into the hills of Ream National Park. It's mountains rise sharply from the coast and the road gains elevation at a rapid rate. At the first hint of a rise, our pathetically underpowered van geared down to first and it was in that state we covered the first 75 kilometres. 

Did you know that running the air conditioning in a vehicle increases fuel consumption? Our driver sure did. As we drove, every ten minutes or so, when he thought no one would note, he would slyly turn down the AC until we all were all wet with sweat and would lodge our complaint. The driver would begrudgingly comply, but within the next few minutes.... Kim and I were in the very back, on a split seat (basically one and one half seats shared by two), our knees hard into the seats in front, and without the ability to adjust the ram-rod strait seat back, and in the area least effected by the meagre AC. It could be that we got to the point of not caring, but about half way through the trip, tired of playing AC cat and mouse with the driver, Kim and I just opened the rear side windows of the van. I know it kind of negates the AC, but the breeze was quite nice. For us. Not so much for every one else.

But arrive in Sihanoukville we did, exactly, as promised by the bus company, at "The Lions", a monument in the centre of town. Well. Within a few kilometres of The Lions. OK, five kilometres. Tuk-tuk drivers were on us the moment our feet met concrete, offering their fine service. After false starts with several - those who dismissed us as completely unreasonable for failing to agree to triple the usual price for a drive to Otres Beach, we met Gia. Our initial parlay was heading for trouble when he opened the bidding at $18.00 and we began to walk away. This prompted him to come back with $7:00. Really? 18 to 7 in 3 seconds. Usually, when I am being screwed that boldly, I want flowers and dinner first. Wine to get me in the mood. We did, however, come to terms and Gia has become our driver of choice for all our inter-urban travel.

Two nights earlier, while in Trat, Kim and I were on the internet searching for places to stay on Otres Beach, the quietest of Sihanoukville's beaches. We found a lovely looking spot, right on the water featuring rustic bungalows, which we booked, and now had Gia deliver us to. Now, funny thing. The fellow who took our booking sold the business three months prior, still maintains the website (the new owners change the name) and still enjoys chatting with potential clients of his now non-existent business, and doesn't want them to feel disappointed if is non-existent rooms are no long available. The new owners were gracious, but fully booked. They did, however, send one of their staff running down the strip, asking for vacancies at reasonably priced venues, while Kim and I walked the other way, hoping against hope that we would find one room in a place we could afford in an area heavily booked for New Years. He found a place, and stood in the lobby waiting for us to make our way from the other end of the strip, lest some other travellers arrived before we did, holding our spot in effect. We have a room! Which I will tell you all about next time.

.......as I was saying......

We're back. Sorry for the time away, but from here on out, we will try and post every day. I'm sure there are many who have forgotten about this blog, and who could blame them, but if you are reading this and know of others who may enjoy reading along, let them know. I have checked and the comment function on this blog does work.

*****

For starters, you may know that this trip began with me (Lou) arriving in Thailand early to try and become a dive master. Well, seven weeks and eighty eight dives later (excluding many hours spent on the bottom at six metres, practicing the required skills), I am a PADI certified dive master. Not a super big deal, but it is the most time consuming step in becoming a dive instructor, which I will complete over the next twelve months. I had some great experiences, made some good friends, and spent almost every day diving and talking with interesting people from all over the world. Oh, and I also spent twelve hours of almost every sunny and warm day either on a boat or in the 29 degree water. It was OK, I guess.

Koh Chang is a quite island and most days the staff finish up at the dive shop and head home for an early night, preparing for the next day of diving. So when the opportunity for a party comes along, this group is all in. There are birthdays and going away parties, but the most common celebrations happen after a dive student has completed one of the upper level training programs, either dive master or instructor. At these parties, which happen at the BB Diver's bar in Lonely Beach and are attended by all the BB staff, staff from other dive shops, their partners and assorted customers of the dive shop, there is a particular rite of passage called the snorkel test. I had the chance to see it over the weeks I was on Koh Chang as other students completed their training. It involves wearing a dive mask with an attached snorkel which goes in your mouth - one can only breath through the snorkel. Attached to the top of the snorkel is a large funnel. During the test a large bucket of booze - in my case a very strong vodka/Coke mix - is poured into the funnel and ones next breath can only be taken after the snorkel is cleared of liquid. I spoke with Kim via FaceTime later that night and she thinks I was pretty funny to talk with. The dives the following day were less funny.

*****

On December twentyfourth I bid Koh Chang adieux, heading to Bangkok to gather sweet Kim. We returned to the city at 3:30am Christmas morning and spent three, relatively un-eventful days in Bangkok. We boated up and down the river, slept late and often, ate good food, drank more than was good for us, and generally rested after a busy few weeks for the both of us. 

Yesterday we traveled Bangkok - Trat, on our way to Cambodia. Trat was our initial stop way back when we first came to Thailand. We spent yesterday and today remembering our previous trip, looking up old sights, re-visiting the many markets. There is some sort of festival at the " healthy park" tonight; we heard music and crowds as we drifted off last night, so tonight we will go see what's up there. We also found a little club with live music and expensive beer which we will check out after 7:30. Dinner is at the food stalls of the night market and then it's back to our rooms, preparing for our departure, for now, from Thailand to Cambodia. We leave at 10:00am.

Below are some photos of Trat. 

.....aaaand, he's a rescue diver.

In terms of process, this is the first step in moving from an Advanced Open Water diver through to Dive Master. The first 11 dives I had after I arrived were extra fun dives needed to bring my numbers up so that by the time if finished the Dive Master course I had 60 dives. The Rescue Diver course ran over three days. The first was a non-diving, theory day; six hours of reading, videos and discussion, culminating in a final exam (I was able to squeak out a pass with 100% on the exam). The second day was in water practice of the various steps integral to rescuing a dive-mate from various water situations. Yesterday I was presented with two simulated rescue situations that, while there was fourty folks on the boat, several with way more ability than I, I had to manage. The first occurred as we were traveling from one dive site to the other out in un-protected water. One of the Dive Masters leapt into the sea while the boat was under way. The call went up, " MAN OVERBOARD!" I had to tell the captain to bring the boat around, set up look outs on the upper deck pointing to the victim in case I lost sight of him while I was in the water, gather my mask, flippers and rescue ring, and go out in the water to bring him back to the boat (about 50 metres). My " victim" plays the part of a panicked diver, so when I got to him he tried to climb up on top of me, splashing and just generally freaking out. I kept the float ring between us, slowly swimming toward the boat until he tires and grabs the ring, then tow him back. The fun thing about this was none of the paying guests on the boat had a heads up so once back on the boat, half the customers hadn't figured out it was pretend and we're all, "OMG!"

The next scenario was a lost, unresponsive (non-breathing) diver on the bottom. My task was to find the diver - my "victim" left the boat 15 minutes before I even got my gear on and could be anywhere on the bottom within a 100 metre radius of the boat - reported lost by their dive buddy. The process is, interview the buddy in order to narrow the search area and establish how critical time is (how much air in the tank), scan the surface for clues, gear up with a buddy while discussing the search strategy, use that strategy to locate the lost diver, assess the victim's condition while on the bottom, transport them safely to the surface (most dive injuries and deaths in Thailand are a result of divers being hit by boats at the surface), establish respiration and, if absent, call for EMS, begin rescue breathing while towwing the vic to the boat, while at the same time removing their gear and my gear so that when we arrive at the boat I can carry them aboard, carry out an EFR assessment and, if need be, begin CPR.

The certificate above suggests I got it close enough.

Off for a couple days in Bangkok this morning, having a visit with Norm and Cheyl. It will be nice to have a couple days away from diving - I'm bagged.

Below is our captain at work.

Catching Up

Well readers, you must be wondering what ever happened to me. I'm thinking that, unless I get a second wind, this blog will get a lot more interesting after I'm done my diver training. My basic day is as follows. I get up around 5:00, prepare a cup of tea, a bowl of ramen noodles and a bit of yogurt and after I've eaten go for a 2 1/2 km run (it's already in the high 20s when I run). After I shower and make the room, I walk to the dive shop for around 8:00. I help to organize gear for all the divers that will join us for the day (the last two days there have been 38 divers on the boat, excluding paid staff, dive masters in training and boat staff). The boat trip to the various dive sites takes between 45 and 90 minutes, depending on the site. We have 2-3 dives per day, groups of 3-5 divers go out with a dive master/instructor and those taking a course work one on one with an instructor. Two or three dives with lunch in between and it's back to land, arriving to the shop around 5:00. All the gear used that day has to be washed and returned to storage which is done by about 6:30. Back to my rooms for another shower, out for a bit of dinner, and surprisingly, by 8:00 I feel I'm ready for bed.

*****

Today I started my dive master training with a three day course called Rescue Diver. Trains you to make rescues from the surface as well as from the sea floor. Today was the theory day so no dives and I was finished by 3:30 so.... I've time for the blog!

I've got to cast back here but there are a couple of events since my last entry worth reporting.

Last Saturday we had 3 dives, two in the day and the last at night. The night dive was at Hin Luk Bat, a rock in the ocean surrounded by really quite lovely corral beds, a 40 minute boat trip east of Koh Chang. We left the pier just as the sun was setting, so by the time we reached the site it was quite dark. As soon as we left the protection of Bang Bao Bay it was clear this was less than a bucolic tropical evening. We traveled in the rain, lightning flashing and thunder rolling all the way.  By the time we got to the site the wind waves were 2 1/2 to 3 feet and a spirited wind was blowing. It was a bit of an adventure getting into the water given the conditions - you jump in, use a pre-installed line to pull yourself to the moorage line off the bow, and use the moorage line to descend, which takes real effort in three foot chop. Once you dip under the water, though, the transformation is dramatic. All the chaos at the surface disappears at even 5' of depth. We had a great dive, using only flashlights, saw a ton of sea life, and were on the bottom for 45 minutes. On the surface, things had deteriorated. The wind had picked up and the wind waves were about 4'. The boats we use are wooden, built here on Koh Chang using traditional designs and methods. The main dive boat is about 20 meters powered by a big, old, stinking diesel and is geared to hold 50 divers in total (customers and staff). The smaller dive boat boasts an even stinkier diesel, holds about 20 total divers and is about 10 meters. We were on the small boat. The place on the side of the boat where divers exit and enter is only about 2' above the water so getting in the boat was easy - line yourself up with the ladder and let the next wave toss you aboard. On the trip back the waves rolled right over the side of the boat washing the decks. Neither boat have any electronics, no VHF, no GPS or radar, no radio. Our return was marked by storm conditions, strong winds, no visibility and we relied entirely on our captain's experience in navigating us safely back using only a compass. I sat right behind the captain and was a bit nervous, but everyone else aboard appeared unconcerned.

The next day we had two dives at the national park 90 minutes south east of the island. While we were diving we enjoyed light airs and sunshine, but on our return trip we motored into a squall. We were in the big boat so didn't have waves across the deck, but again had zero visibility, no electronics, only the captain's good judgement.

The diving has been great, most days 30 metre visibility and the sunny days make the corrals and sea life simply pop. I've been up close and personal with some amazing sea creatures that seem almost completely indifferent to our presence. The dive shop is great with friendly, knowledgable and welcoming staff. Two Canadians, don't you know. There are two other dive shops on island and we see their boats everyday at the dive sites. These last two days when we have had 38 divers aboard, the other two have had six or eight. The woman who owns the dive shop started it 20 years ago, built it with great service and great staff and now has three boats (2 dive boats and a touring speed boat), five offices on island - one includes a training pool - and she owns it all. 

I don't have a lot of down time, but when I do, I feel quite lonely. I'm missing all those I love. Remember that this blog comes with a comment function. I'd welcome any, if only for the contact that I am without.

Here, as promised are some photos of Bang Bao, as well as some shots from the dive sites. I'm thinking of renting an underwater camera so I can share a bit of what I'm seeing under the sea. I'll keep you posted.

First day of diving..

You might be thinking, " Well, he's just going to be diving every day. Stories about that are going to get pretty thin, pretty quick." But here at Kimmylou's Asian adventure, if there ain't news, we make it!

So, funny thing.

My first dive today was largely un-eventful, about an hour, during which we ran across a scorpion fish, some very cool sea slugs, big angel fish, etc, etc. 

At the onset of our second dive, once we were to depth - about 60' - I realized my mask was quite fogged. "No worries", says I, "it will clear in a bit." Across the reef we go and my visibility is such that I could make out the yellow in the fin of the dive master in front of me, and only just.  Against some fairly strongly held beliefs I held at the time, it wasn't getting any better. So, I'm cool, kind of a boring dive in store but I'll finish it and I'll clean my mask once we return to Bang Bao. (It's a new mask and you have to scrub the shit out of them with tooth paste or - wait for it - they fog. I'm going to say I didn't clean mine well enough.) About 1/2 an hour in I am noticing that the little bit of water in my mask is, if I hold my head about level with the bottom, creating little lines of visibility as it rolls across the inside of my lens. Eureka! So I spend about 15 seconds trying to get the water to clear more of the lens, and then I look up.  Then down. Then right. Left. Forward. Back. Hmmmm. No dive master. No dive buddy. Just.......ocean. My first thought was, "Those fuckers." Then, " OK, they've got to be close." I continued in the direction I think we were heading and after about a minute, out of the murk, I discern the outline of a dive master. Then the outline of a dive buddy. Yay. Then a second dive buddy. Sure, I started with just one dive buddy but, when the universe is offering up gifts, it's bad form to quibble. My (new) dive master swims up to me and gestures excitedly with both hands the direction my original group had gone, urging me to hurry in that direction. The sign language divers use is complete for most eventualities under the the sea, however, "If you think I am swimming off into the deep, by myself, in a functionally blind state, you are out of your f#~=Ing mind," does not covey smoothly.  I tried. Several times. Mr. new dive master would have none of it. OK, he's done this more than me. Maybe bat-shit crazy Is what it takes to be a dive master. I turn around and swim, focusing on a relaxed and regular breathing pattern 'cause I wouldn't want to over use the air in the tank, right? Because, when you feel like you are screwed, it's nice to have some unrelated little problems that you can control, obscuring the larger shit storm that looms. After about five minutes ( OK, it may have been 3 seconds but it felt like 5 minutes) I've had no success in finding anyone ahead of me and Mr. dive master 2 and his motley crew were just bad memories from my past. I stop and wrack my little brain (I promised it beer later if it would help me out in the present) with regard to the protocol for this situation. All alone in 60' of foreign waters. I had to urinate, so I know that peeing your pants fits in nicely, though I'm sure there are more effective courses. (If you ever visit Southeast Asia, don't swim in the gulf of Thailand - I peed in it.). The  promise of beer worked - look around for a minute, go up to 15', safety stop for 3 minutes, then surface. Once on the surface, the wind had come up hard, and with it heavy rain. Night was falling and though I spun around frantically in all directions, no boat was visible in any.....no, wait. That last bit was the plot of a Tom Hanks film or something. When I got to the surface, I swam the 20 yards to our boat and went aboard. From the bow of the boat I was able to let dive master 1 know I was OK and he continued the dive with my original dive buddy. Protocol has it - if you can believe this - that I now own my dive master a beer 'cause I scared him. Humph. I'll bet that he didn't pee his pants!.

More diving tomorrow and I'm going to do my best to have nothing to report. I'll also take and post some photos of Bang Bao and the boats.

First dive day.

Hanging out with the dive masters waiting for the rest of the rec divers 

A belated beggining.

To all of you who I promised blog action beginning the evening of my departure, I beg your forgiveness.  I took me a bit to re-establish my relationship with Blogger and I clearly required a Koh Chang sunrise, cicada roaring their song to the morning, birds of every ilk joining in the celebration let by the village roosters, to find the time to do that.

So, what did you miss?

Travel. More specifically, fourty three hours of travel from Maple Ridge to my rooms here on Koh Chang. Even more specifically, fourty three hours of largely un-remarkable travel - trains, planes and automobiles. We've all been there. Nothing to see here, folks.  Move along. 

Blessedly, the trip did begrudgingly offer one small tale to tell. Once we debarked the ferry here on Koh Chang and, as is required by Thai law, crammed into a windowless, sweltering mini van for the drive down island, I found myself sitting - ok, what's the word; beside, on top of, with intimate knowledge of?; - lets go with beside, a fellow born and raised on Koh Chong, returning from his home in England to start work for the high season as a dive master at BB Divers where I will train. I had already made an agreement with the driver to pay extra for the run to Bang Bao, where the vans normally do not venture, but this fellow - Tia - offered to call his brother from the last usual stop and have him drive us down to Bang Bao. Perfect, says I. Saving money, says I. Three hours, 4 Chang beer and three games of pool later, his brother's wife arrived to collect us.  150 baht extra for the van to make the 10 minute trip to Bang Bao, or 240 baht for the beers and three hours of drinking it for the trip with Tia. I think I came out ahead.

Pictured below is my room. Very nice at $11.84 per night. Mattress provided by The Marquis de Sade (a box spring - coils of steel with two layers of linen to cover. Very chic. Guess what I am finding today?)

Off to find some food, and later, two dives. Updates as required.

And......they're off!

Well, one of us is. At the West Coast Express station waiting for the 7:44. Koh Chang awaits.