Captain Bern's-Eye and Skipper Jim: Adventures across the Andaman Sea

Captain's log 22nd March in the year 2007. Arrrrrrr. Shiver me timbers 'tis been o'er a week since Captain Bern's-Eye left port to return t' England. Before he sailed o'er th' horizon we spent a week on th' Andaman sea fightin' off poisonous jellyfish, stingin' sea-lice, mutant mosquitoes an' th' ugliest fish ye've ereseen. Aye, my parrot concurrs.

Okay enough with the pirate speak. But we certainly packed in quite a bit in the week that Bernard - aka Capt Bern's-Eye - was here. For anyone new to this blog Bernard is one of my best chums who i've known since I was 13. We both decided last year that life was revolving too much around work (not much you can do about that) and all-weekend hangovers. After much pondering and debate we decided sailing would be the perfect antidote and the seeds were sowed for our transformation into salty-seadogs. By the beginning of this year we had both passed the practical Competent Crew course as well as the Day Skipper theory exam. What was left was the Day Skipper practical so we took advantage of the fact I was already in Thailand to meet and do the course out there.

Bangkok

We met up in Bangkok on the Khao San Road, a favourite backpacker hangout, a couple of days before our course began. Old habits die hard so I ensured a monster-hangover for the next day's sightseeing; we also took a Canal boat trip (don't get me started on the Roger Moore thing again!), got ringside seats at a brutal Thai-Boxing match (in fact I think we sat in the same row that Scaramanga... errr... sorry) and were later traumatised at a 'ping-pong' show in Patpong. I would go into detail but for all I know you might be reading this in your lunchbreak - and having a little bit of sick on your keyboard will really upset your I.T. department.

The Boat

On the Sunday we flew to the island of Phuket where the sailing school was based. The boat was 43-foot long, only four feet more than the one I'd sailed last year in the Canary Islands but this made quite a difference to how it handled and also made room for an extra bunk-bed cabin. Our skipper was a Scotsman called Olly, the three other crew members - Jeff (also from England), Martin from Galway in Ireland, and Christina from Sweden.

Getting out of the Marina was a tricky business: we had to navigate out of a mangrove swamp and then follow wooden posts which marked an underwater channel; a few metres to the wrong side and the boat could have been beached for the next 12 hours. I can tell you I was relieved when it was time to hand over the helm to someone else. We sailed north from Phuket island into a national park... the scenery is just incredible, I really can't think of anywhere you can sail that is more awe-inspiring. Huge limestone islands rise vertically out of the water like jagged teeth. Not that teeth rise out of water very often but you get my point.

On the first night we dropped anchor and had a barbecue on deck. When I first heard this I thought it sounded somewhat of a fire hazard - but the bbq itself is clipped onto the railings at the stern. You don't have long to eat and tidy everything away though - as we are only eight degrees north of the Equator, darkness descends at an incredible pace and before you know it it's pitch black - that is until the moon rises. You can see a token moonlight shot below (very difficult to take as the aperture needs to stay open longer and you can't stop the boat rocking).

Running out of Air...

Bernard and I had been allocated the bunk-bed cabin which at first seemed a better deal than Jeff who had to sleep on the dining table. But we were mistaken. The heat below deck was unbearable; on that first night there simply was no air, not a gust of wind despite the hatches being wide open and small electric fans impotently whirring throughout the boat. All was still except for the occasional creaking and gentle lapping of water around the hull... that is apart from the stifled laughter I was trying to contain - I mean I was suffocating, but what little air was coming into our cabin didn't get near Bernard in the bunk below. He had to crane his head up at an unnatural angle to try and catch whiffs of oxygen on the draft that intermittently wheezed through the hatch. Quite rightly he decided the next morning he'd had enough - not exactly the comfort you'd expect when you've taken a prized week off work - so he spent the rest of the cruise sleeping up on deck. We soon realised though that the whole week would be an exercise in sleep deprivation...

Jellyfish Attack

As if things might get boring, the next morning I jumped into the sea - bracing stuff don't-you-know and all-that-sort-of-thing - to be promptly stung by a jellyfish across my right knee and thigh. I suppose in hindsight it was my own fault, I mean I HAD passed Martin on the deck beforehand, who in considerable pain warned me he'd just been in and got stung. I just thought the chances of another one lurking in there especially for me were slim. And boy did it hurt - it was like a wasp sting but all over your leg rather than in one area. Bernard got off lightly, he'd also been in but got out seconds before me. I'm sure there was a tentacle reaching out for his ankle, like you'd see in one of those teen horror flicks, just as he fished himself out of the water. On another Sunsail boat nearby, a woman in her sixties had also been stung but more severely, across the torso. We later heard she'd been taken ashore and given morphine and that was the end of her sailing trip.

Interestingly Martin and I ended up with a rather comic side-effect which lasted for several days: at random we would both get acute stabbing pains, mainly in the feet or legs. They only lasted a fraction of a second but that was enough to make us twitch and spasm and really frighten whoever was presently engaging us in conversation. It was several days after the cruise finished that they finally vanished. I think we were pretty unlucky, from talking to other people jellyfish stings out here are rare - we must have stumbled upon their secret mating grounds or something. Ew. Normally the only things that get you in the water here are microscopic sea-lice which feel like a mild ant-bite and can be washed off once you get out of the water. Am I doing a good p.r. job here? Heh heh - come on in the water's lovely!

Too Much Whisky...

Over the next few days Bernard, Jeff and I each took turns at skippering the boat (I'll just briefly mention we went past "The Beach" and the rock seen in the Roger Moore Bond film The Man With The Golden Gun". Ahaaaaa!!) and we all had to work together for a rather treacherous nightsail on the Thursday evening - the first one of the season so first we had to do a "dry run" in the daylight and make sure all the buouys and markers on the chart were in the right place using the GPS. Half of them weren't and had to be replotted.

That night we took the dinghy ashore with Olly and Paul, the skipper of the other Sunsail boat. The stress of the evening faded away as we had a few too many glasses of Thai Whisky in a local Thai nightclub. Afterwards we suggested Paul come and join us on our boat as his crew had gone to bed. He agreed and said he'd get a couple of bottles of wine from his cabin on the other boat - so he took his dinghy over there first while we motored back to ours. I have a hazy recollection of disgracing myself moments later on the VHF radio, calling Paul with the correct callsign on our allocated channel and then asking him several times to board us from behind, up the stern. It seemed hilarious at the time...

Needless to say the last day was quite unpleasant, waking up after four hours' sleep with the mother of all hangovers. I haven't felt that bad in a long time and frankly didn't want to be on a boat anymore. The only thing that brought a smile to my face was seeing Bernard with a cartoon-sad face, possibly feeling even worse than me. But it was all over by the afternoon and we were both pleased (and relieved!) to discover we had both passed. More than anything though we needed sleep and de-alcohol-toxification so we checked into an air-con room and practically fell asleep til the next day.

Patong

It was a shame that Bernard's last night should end up in Patong, an especially naff and tacky town on the west coast of Phuket. It was a bit like Ibiza Uncovered - but with Pat and Frank Butcher-a-likes. And it was the first time I've seen ladyboys out on the street hassling people. Previously they'd just been part of a show and had appeared theatrical and... well... glamorous. Here they were wobbling round on a podium in the middle of a street, taking their tops off... and every now and then flashing what was underneath.

It's a strange thing isn't it? I mean you try to be 'David Niven abroad' sipping a Gin and Tonic at a table, not remotely interested in this rather base performance; in fact unlike the rest of the crowd you're even sitting at a different angle and looking away into the distance. But it's pretty hard not to turn your head at the critical moment... perhaps I can call it medical curiosity. Naturally you have to look quickly away again, it's especially disturbing accidentally making eye contact with someone who's just pulled their tights down at you... and no it wasn't like the Crying Game if that's what you're thinking!

After Bernard left I spent a week on Koh Phi Phi , the island just north of where they filmed The Beach. It's scenic but pretty expensive and busy with boatloads of people coming and going, great if that's what you want. I would have preferred somewhere a bit quieter but once I got there I couldn't be bothered to move again. I met up with Jenny again for the last few days and did a 10-metre cliff jump (that's a lot of metres for a self-confessed vertigo sufferer - ask anyone who was on Mat's stag weekend!). Irritatingly they took a cameraman to film us so it was rather difficult to try and back out, 'Ooo bit of shrapnel in the war actually'. For the last few days I hired a DVD player - if you haven't seen Pan's Labyrinth then you've missed the best fantasy film since Lord of The Rings so go and find it. It's NOT a children's film though - I can imagine people have made that mistake and traumatised them for life!

Epilogue

My mother came out on Monday for a visit and much-needed holiday, we are now in a resort on Klong Muang beach just north of Krabi. For the first time since I left the UK I don't have anything to do which feels rather odd... but in a good way I suppose.

So it's Shanghai next and as I said in my last blog, the next project is South America which will be around September through to November. I may post something before then from China - I never got to see the Terracotta army and hopefully there will be some funny things to tell over the next few months. Please keep in touch in the meantime, it's great to hear what everyone's been up to and getting email funnies.

All the best

James

p.s. plans changed (25/04/07) - now heading back to London as offered interim job with my old company. Phew!

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James Blackwood

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