I curled up on a deck pad, wrapped in a terrycloth "blanket" and drifted, unconscious, out among the stars. Two hours later I was awakened by a loud crunch, as the bow rode up over a black, low fishing boat, unlit in the water, its three-man crew asleep. We backed off of it without sinking it or killing anyone, surveyed the damage to the Gaea which turned out to be only a little scraped paint, and waited while another fishing boat , also with only a foot of freeboard, came along side to help their comrades. We doubled the watch, got out our night binoculars, and threaded our way through the maze of boats, nets, fish traps and fish corrals, none of which were lit except for the occasional glow of a cigarette, candle or kerosene lamp.
I awoke at dawn at our anchorage at Island (115). This is an un-named island
with its elevation in meters in parentheses. I took the dinghy across the
bay to Is. (88) where I collected shells and orchids and watched a flock of
10-15 Oriental Pied Hornbills, Anthrococeros albirostris, (possibly the Southern
race). They were in a tall tree half way up a steep scarp, hidden behind the
plate-size leaves. Two and three at a time they swooped down, almost vertically,
necks extended, until they were almost level with the brush, pulled out and
glided, rising into another, shorter and more distant tree. One of the orchids
here is in bloom. I collected some that were not in bloom. The tiny purple
flowers rise in a group from a short stem that extends from a nine inch long,
fluted pseudobulb, for which the Thais have named it the Toothbrush (Bang
See Fun) Orchid, Dendrobium secundum. My specimen is doing great, but not
yet in bloom. Bulbuls, crows, White-bellied Sea Eagles and Pacific Reef-Egrets
in dark gray dress are everywhere. Back on (115) for breakfast I watched two
Plain-pouched Hornbills, Rhyticeros subruficollis, which the bird book describes
as "little known. . . rare." The boy-naturalist in me is agog.
We sailed North stopping for a swim at Cassarina Point on Pulau Labiaung. Hidden in the trees on the high bar were sea gypsy camps for drying and smoking fish and midden piles of conch, clam, melo and murex. We motored on to the southern-most river on Lampi Island and moored for the evening in the bay. We went ashore for sunset, to walk or run along the four or five kilometer beach, ours the only human footprints. Aaron found a Nautilus shell and some beautiful conchs. We saw big ducks at dusk, probably White-winged Ducks, Cairina scutulata, that flew out of the darkening river mouth and turned North, flying low along the shore line against a red sky.
This morning, we paid a visit to the Mawken Sea Gypsy village at Pulau Nala. We checked on the girl we had treated last trip for a seriously infected ankle wound from a stingray; she was somewhat better, but not enough to risk staying in the village, so she had been taken to Kawthong for medical treatment. The villagers greeted us as real friends, enhanced by snapshots of the villagers that Scott distributed. (These had been taken a year ago by Pete, Scott's partner.)
6 March. Evening:
We are in the Salet Galet, the sinuous passage at the West end of Lampi that separates it from Wa-Ale Kyun. The moon is just past first quarter and there are more stars in the water than in the sky. Today, in the dinghy and inflatables, we explored the northern-most river that drains the upper third of Lampi. We must have gotten in about five kilometers before running out of navigable water. I collected several species of orchids, nearly all attached to pieces of wood. We watched a pair of Orange-breasted Trogons, Harpactes oreskios, that flew into two low trees a few feet from our dinghy. The male had a green head, brilliant golden breast, black and white wavy barring on his wing coverts and a cinnamon back. The female had a yellower, paler breast, and grayer head and back. Not a rare bird, but an astonishing one to see in the afternoon light. Both perched quietly, hardly moving, about 15 feet apart, less than 20 feet above the edge of the river. On the way down, Bill and Lin stopped us. They had discovered tiger tracks on the river bar. We could see where the tiger, a big one according to the tracks, accompanied by a cub, stalked a wild boar. The boar's prints, at first placid, but then digging hard as it ran, were overtaken by the tiger's. The sand was scattered and the brush broken where the tiger killed it. Across the shallows we could see the smooth track where it had been dragged up the bank into the deep, dark jungle. A Little Heron, Butorides striatus, not as stocky as the Black-crowned Night-Heron found here and in No. Cal., watched us apprehensively from the water at the far end of the sand bar. Yellow Wagtails, Motacilla flava, followed us down river, like ouzels, dipping for insects along the rocks in our wake. A family of Crab-eating Macaques watched from the bank, holding the young ones' hands, then scrambled into the trees as we got close. There are many bird soundsóhoots, bells, clanks and gobblesóI can't identify.
7 March. Clara Island, Southeast Bay.
We left the Salet Galet as dawn broke on a glassy sea. We passed a pod of Bottle-nosed Dolphins headed Northeast; they were at first curious, but then turned away and swam off as if terrified. Later we saw two dead ones on the surfaceónet victims from the Burmese fishing boats that are becoming more common. We did two dives on Clara, South of Turtle Bay. The water was clearer than I have seen it yet this year, visibility was at least 30 feet, the temp a lousy 77 degrees. Nonetheless they were a couple of beautiful dives. 3-5 lb. lobsters were here and there, and a huge, 2 foot-long Stonefish hung on a basket sponge, trying to look invisible. There was a beautiful array of crinoids, feather stars in brilliant yellow, or white and black, three kinds of nudibranchs with patterns of sky blue, gold and white, pale and dark green with purple spots. Daisy corals had their polyps extended so that the whole wall appeared to be in yellow bloom against crimson, purple and peach encrusting sponges. A large octopus, its head bigger than a basketball, pulled scallops from the wall while we watched. It changed colors and patterns from black and white to cinnamon to sandy and dark brown. It was very knobby with complex papillae all over its body. It dug away sand and tossed shells over its shoulder, looking for things to eat.8 March.
We left Clara at 3AM for Black Rock, a pinnacle which lies at 97degrees, 35 minutes East Long., 11degrees, 22minutes North Lat., West of the Sisters Islands. Only the Torres are further West in the Mergui Archipelago. The water was glassy and dark blue; no wind, not a ripple except where schools of small fish fed just below the surface. Every minute or two we could see giant splashes off the Western corner of the rock when we were still kilometers away. As we approached, we were all distracted by a highly venomous Blue-banded Sea Snake, Hydrophis cyanensis, about one meter long, swimming on the surface, perhaps taking a breath or two before heading down.
Suddenly, there were Mantas everywhere! Mantas leaped, erupting from white foam,
gliding above the sea on ten and twelve foot wings. Mantas swam around us, just
under the surface. Wingtips stuck up from the water like shark fins on all sides.
We were in the water in record time, drifting down through layers of water.
A Dusky Shark swam up behind us, investigating, and then swam off. Carcharhinus
obscurus gets up to 1.7 meters. This one was about 1.5 m. It belongs to a group
of sharks that are not as dangerous as the four most dangerous: Great white,
Tiger, Bull, and Oceanic white-tip. This secondary group can be aggressive and
"will retaliate vigorously if the are disturbed, speared or provoked." There
were Mantas everywhere, down to 100 feet. A plankton-rich layer of 80-82 degree
water occupied the upper fifty feet, reducing visibility to 15 meters; below
that the water was startlingly clear, 75-77 degrees. There must have been food
in the clear stratum, because there were nearly as many Mantas there as above.
The sides of the rock were as colorful as Clara's with the bonus of purple and
white filigreed soft corals. We watched a smooth red octopus skitter down a
rock at our approach turn magenta and scuttle into a hole. There were even four
kinds of Morays, including a beautiful Fimbriated Moray, Gymnothorax fimbriatus,
bright greenish yellow with small black spots and mascara blue eye rings. (I
just looked up "fimbriate" Webster says it means "fringed.") On one of the dives
here, one group of our divers, all but Duke and me, were chased out of the water
by Bull and Dusky Sharks that cornered them against the rock and began threatening
behavior. We saw none of the dangerous ones. We were cruised by a couple of
White-tip Reef Sharksóharmless, while we looked at beautifully decorated nudibranchs
(creamy with orange polka dots and blue trim.) Thirty feet away, a large shark
breached, completely leaving the water. Schools of pastel Fairy Basslets and
bright blue Rock Basslets with yellow tails swayed like jeweled curtains along
the face of the walls, and gathered in clouds over miniature coral ledges. 
9 March. The Sisters: Jane Island.
This morning we watched a family of Indian Smooth-coated Otters, two adults and three kits, as they emerged from the wild hibiscus and played on the beach. The kits wrestled and rolled. Their parents wandered around, looking for shellfish and just relaxing for a few minutes. They then collected the kits and slid into the water. They swam and dove along the rocks that edge the island on both sides of the sandy beach. Finally they disappeared. We went ashore and verified our identification with their footprints.
We dove an unnamed rock to the West, a new place, not previously dived.
Very beautiful, the clearest and warmest water we have encountered this
season. This was a very colorful dive also, with a lot of fish all sizes,
colors, species. A cuttlefish was tan and cream until I touched it. A
wave of reddish-brown swept from tail to head, and it slowly backed away.
Big Black Groupers, 3-4 footers, watched us, open-mouthed.
We are sailing, spinnaker out, headed South toward Lampi. Several Spanish
Mackerel jump near the boatóstraight up and straight down, 20 pounds of
fish 20 feet in the air. Orange sunset reflecting from their silver sides.
10 March.
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12 March.
We made a fast run into Kawthong to reprovision. Adam jumped shipóprearrangedófor Phuket, leaving Carl to captain us the last three days. We spent the day snorkeling, diving, and beach combing from island to island up to McCarthy Island, where we dropped anchor for the night. I sat on the beach watching a pair of Beach Thick-knees, Esacus magnirostris, working the tide pools among the coral and rocks thirty feet away. Of the dozen or so pairs we have seen we have noticed that there is only one pair of thick-knees to a beach. This pair chased away two pair of Black-capped Kingfishers and a Brahminy Kite while I watched. They stayed close to one another, chirping back and forth and bobbing their heads up and down to improve the view of suspected food or danger (the dinghy headed for shore nearby.) The tide was coming in; it drove them closer to me, and the tide pools gradually disappeared at sunset. People on the beach and a lack of tide pools finally drove them to fly off to the beaches around the corner. They were back the next morning.
Friday the 13th.
This morning was beautiful. We sailed East and dove White Rocks and Rocky (29)then sailed into an anchorage noted on the Survey of 1914-1917 on the East coast of Great Swinton Island. This beautiful bay is marked by two rivers and four white beaches. We watched a family of wild boar among the bamboo and scrub. The dominant male had tusks that completely recurved to his face. The eroding hulk of a wrecked fishing boat high on the beach had charring aft, an engine room fire that probably caused its demise. Another dive, another great dinner, and we sail for Kawthong. Pearls and teak in the morning.
During the summer months Robert may be reached in Eureka, California by telephone at 707-443-1755; phone number in Thailand is 66-76-383-105 or worldwide by email at indepth@loxinfo.co.th
Mailing address: P.O. Box 27, Eureka, CA 95502.