Having had my fill of rustic isolation on Koh Lanta for now, I decided to head over to Koh Phi Phi and perhaps meet a few people, have a few beers and generally re-engage socially with the world again. However, before doing so it was time to renew the visa- entailing a day long bus journey from Krabi down to the town of Hat Yai in the south and then onto the Malaysian border to do the necessary paperwork, before heading back the same day to arrive back at Krabi late that evening. Not an inspiring day.
Jumping off the ferry at the pier of Koh Phi Phi and bulldozing through the usual scrum of hawkers, the first thing that struck me was the shocking damage still spread around the place. The wave had surged it’s way right through and over the thin central strip in the centre of the island at Ton Sai beach, sweeping buildings, trees and of course people before it. People were working clearing the area, but still piles of rocks, glass, timber and rubble littered coconut groves; empty, derelict shells of buildings that were spared stood empty, their windows and doors blasted clean from the walls. I was told that in the immediate aftermath of the disaster that the sand, mud and rubbish was left deposited in the streets up to the top of the door frames, so for the island to be functioning and to have been cleared to the extent it has been was little short of miraculous. Much of the work now is being carried out by holidaying and backpacking volunteers, under the banner of the Hi Phi Phi organisation- with the aid of local people- and the supervisors and instigators of this should be congratulated. The strange thing is, that it seems Koh Phi Phi (and Koh Lanta for that matter) received no aid, governmental or otherwise. The cynic in me wonders who’s pockets the billions of dollars of aid donated by the world’s population has ended up in. It sure as hell isn’t the guy who’s pieced together what’s left of his Sunset Bar on the beach at Phi Phi. For all the damage that was still visible, the island still has some beautiful beaches and views, and the diving on the coral reefs was quite breathtaking- the clear blue sea giving visibility of 25 metres or more on each dive (and a water temperature of 32 degrees too). It’s definitely a place that’s still worth visiting. In fact it should be visited, because that is the best way to ultimately help the surviving inhabitants and businesses.
During the dives we saw Turtles, Banded Sea Snakes, Barracuda (including a HUGE one), Leopard Sharks, Stonefish, Jacks, large Grouper, Triggerfish, Parrotfish… So many species of flora and fauna, so although fishing was obviously not permitted near any of the dive sites, this was more than enough inspiration to arrange a bit of angling with the local longtail boats down on the beach. The usual bartering was carried out (arse…), and a couple of days sorted out. As seems to be standard on the Andaman, a boat full of Snapper, Wrasse and Grouper species accompanied multi-coloured Triggerfish, Parrotfish and others I have no idea of the name of at the moment. A very nice day out on the turquoise ocean. However, the boatman, who looked like he was about to fall asleep at any moment- even when he was driving the boat (a bit worrying)- was not so happy: ‘Current not good now. Good in 4 days’, he says.Ok. So we arranged for the second day out to be in 4 days time. As we sat there, suddenly, in the distance, we saw a large billfish free-jumping from the water! ‘That’s what we want!!’ I said, pointing vehemently straight at the disturbance. The boatman looked at me as if to say ‘I’m sure you do mate’. ‘Need livebait. Big rod and reel’.After many hand signals and some broken verbal communication, I thought we had it sorted that next time out, we’d go and get some livebaits and get adrift and try to have a tug of war with a Sailfish- something which I was more than excited about, being a bit of a sad act.
That evening, some of the fish were taken back to the bungalow, where the bloke looking after the place set about barbecuing them wrapped in banana leaves for anyone who cared to try them to just dig in. The Thais seemed to like this very much.Four days later we were back out on the deep blue sea, me accompanied by my Exage boat rod and TLD, ready to do battle with some heavyweight adversaries. Out onto the ocean we steamed, and then suddenly we stopped- just a couple of kilometres out near the Viking Cave at the side of sister island Koh Phi Phi Lai.’Erm… Sailfish?’, I asked., ‘Pla Kratong Lom?’. ‘Very windy today sir’, was all he said. The frustrations of just trying to get some of the fishing I had in my mind’s eye here are far in excess of anything I had ever expected. But what can you do, other than just shrug your shoulders? In the end, we had a really nice day, catching fish after fish, and lots of different colours and species. We chased some schools of baitfish around for a bit after Bonito and Jacks- eventually meeting with some success when a Jack of a species I don’t really recognise grabbed the Toby lure as it was wound through the boiling frenzy of fish at high speed.
Another bag of Snapper were barbecued on the banana leaves back at the bungalow that night. As we sat around, I was watching the unsettling spectre of the Thai’s picking the eyeballs out of the fish and eating them, and, worst of all one of the blokes putting the whole of a fish skull in his mouth and sucking it, noisily, like a carp taking bread off the surface of a pond, until there was just a matted, tangled mash of bones left to be spat into the bushes. Wlie we ate, one of the Thai’s was now asking when I was going fishing again: ‘Depends. I want to fish Sailfish, but I can’t seem to get onto the ocean cos no one will take me to have a go at it’. ‘You need Tuk. Tuk fish Sailfish’, one of them replied. He then explained that Tuk could be found with his longtail boat down on one of the beaches. Now this I had to investigate, so the next morning I was down on the beach asking around. The first couple of people I asked either didn’t understand or didn’t know the bloke. The third did: ‘Tuk gone. Tsunami’. Oh. And so the end of another trail goes cold, I’m sorry to say. After this the monsoon weather really closed in for a two or three days, with warm, sunny mornings giving way to torrential rain and heavy winds during the afternoon and evening. And now no one would go out fishing, since it was possible to get stuck out there in the bad weather at the flip of a coin, but after checking my e-mails one day, one was from Jean Francois back in Bangkok asking if I’d like to join him and his side-kick Kik in doing a recce of some new waters back further up north. The perfect excuse to get back on the rails and back onto the fishing.
Goodbyes said to everyone, including the really nice people at the Tropical Garden Bungalows, and back on the ferry to Krabi, then the cramped bus (14 people plus luggage in something not much bigger than a Renault Espace) to Surat Thani to catch the train to Bangkok. This rucksack of mine is really getting to be a pain in the arse to drag down the street. Now christened ‘Quasi’, on the basis that it’s an embarrassing green lump on my back that causes small children to stare and point and grown adults to snigger, I understand now how the freak from France felt. At least I hope it’s the rucksack they’re looking at. So off we go, an early morning departure for Jean Francois, his ex-pat friend Patrick, Kik and yours truly. We called in to a pet shop(!?) to pick up bait, which consisted of a bag full of koi carp (there still seems something sacrilegious about using one of those for bait to me) and some bottles of white cockroaches, which are specially fed on white rice meal to give them their distinctive colouring, and after negotiating the horrific traffic some 2 and half hours later we arrived at a fairly small, muddy coloured lake. The temperatures were soaring as we (well, Jean Francois) talked to the old fella who owned the lake and the tackle was set up. The idea was that if the lake fished well, we’d fish overnight and leave the next day. As we rigged two rods each, fish splashed regularly over the surface- some of them pretty sizeable, and we were anticipating a great day’s fishing, especially since we were told that the lake hadn’t been fished for years. Soon the baits were in position- a selection of baits and rigs cast amongst the rolling fish, reeds and snags in front of us.
The sun beat down relentlessly, and as much as I had all intentions of moving about the lake and trying all kinds of ‘mobile’ techniques, the shear heat and humidity, combined with zero in terms of breeze had us all cowering for shade and water. As the day wore on, even the fish activity diminished further and further To cut a long story short, we tried everything (I even finally moved spot a couple of times to where there appeared to be more fish activity- once the clouds had moved over a bit!). But we failed. Between the four of us, and eight rods, sitting soaked with sweat in the red hot sunshine, just one bite was had when Patrick went to lure fish down one side of the lake (again, when the clouds had started to move in on the scene) and managed to get a nice sized Jungle Perch. But that was it. Nada. Very frustrating with so many fish jumping everywhere initially. Needless to say, it was back to Bangkok rather than stay the night- timing it right just after dark, as a huge thunderstorm rolled in again. ?Turfing up a couple of days later at Jean Francois’ apartment to head off for option 2 of the recce trip, I was greeted with the bad news that he had hurt his back and needed to head for hospital to get it sorted out. Briefly I thought this was going to leave me up the creek, but he had rung ahead to the people at the lakes near Nakom Prathom to let them know I was going to be on my own, and Side-kick Kik had prepared some groundbait for me to take, which I picked up on the way. Excellent. Three or maybe four hours later I stepped out of the bus at the lakes and got sorted out. Now, problem was that at least most other places I’d been to one or two of the people knew maybe a little English. Here, they knew as much as I do Thai. However, they had a really nice bungalow at the edge of the lake for me to stay in, at a good price too, and all looked good as, yet again a array of fish crashing, rolling and topping all across the lake- although recent events kept me from getting too carried away about such things!
I had a plumb about to check the depths and bottom make up, and set a marker from a small dinghy at about 50 yards out in 8 feet of water, the bottom seeming clear gravel in this area. A big load of Kik’s groundbait was distributed around it, then two of the spiral ‘method’ feeders with tiny polystyrene balls were positioned in the middle of it all. Strangely, despite fish rolling and leaping all around the place, not a bite came to the rods, until I changed one of the baits to a white cockroach, whereby, once darkness had descended, a couple of Striped Snakehead and an Asian Redtail Catfish succumbed to temptation. Two new species to me, so I was happy with that, although I couldn’t help thinking that more action should have been forthcoming. Next day, after catching some Archer Fish on bread- which are so cute, and some Marbled Gobies on a bunch of tiny fry scooped from the margins, which aren’t quite as cute.The people living at the lake were really kind, although neither of us had a clue what the other was on about, but each day they would bring meals and drinks down to the spot I was fishing at- it really was like fishing in luxury at times. Unfortunately I could only remember the Thai name for fried rice when under pressure (Khao Phat… pronounced Cow Pat- see what I mean?), so for three days that was all I ate. Still, it was really good food though.
The action on the rods wasn’t as hectic as it really should have been, and despite trying different baits, hook sizes etc etc etc. And suddenly this bloke turns up with his rods strapped to his moped and sets up not 20 feet away to my left.’Oh hello’, methinks.He throws in some bait about 10 yards out, and drops a small spiral feeder into the spot, draping a piece of wet tissue paper onto the bow in his line. Within minutes, I heard a ‘swoosh’, and he was playing a nice sized Tilapia to the net.’Oh hello’, methinks.Although I did notice that the fish did seem to be coming in sideways… Within minutes he’s repeating the act with an even larger Tilapia. ‘What the…?’ So I had to have a look at this. Gesturing to the man for him to hold up his catch so I could take a snap, all became clear. His feeder had a ‘stinger’ treble hook off the end of it, and two short pieces of mono, again, one at each end, and what he was doing was waiting for the tissue paper to twitch as the Tilapia pecked at the feeder and then striking to impale the fish any old how. Very sporting! Occasionally you’d hear a ‘swoosh’ again and look round to see yer man removing some scales from his hook(s). I was getting pretty desperate, but not that desperate.
One other spooky thing- these two guys turned up and set up a rod each about 10 yards to my right the next day. Then one of them sees I was casting to the baited marker… so he does the same, his feeder landing about 6 feet away from mine. I can only pray this bloke doesn’t turn up at a carp lake in England, for that, my friends would be seen as fighting talk! Oh, and I had a lure rod set up for Snakeheads etc, and at times it was left propped up some bushes behind me. Intermittently, a couple of the local blokes would come along and just pick it up and have a few casts. ‘Help yourself then mate!’. Eventually the fish started to fall to my rods, with Yellow Belly Barbs, more Archer Fish, more Gobies, catfish and a couple of Striped Snakeheads rapping the rod tips around, so by the time I left the lake for Kanchanaburi I was quite satisfied with what had been caught. I suppose I would have liked some bigger fish, but then again, I didn’t see any of the few local fellas fishing there catch anything of great size either. Maybe it was the intense heat (again).So, Kanchanaburi it is then. Again. More words and pictures for this part of the trip can be seen at www.gulliblestravels.co.uk. |
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