04 March 2004

DISCOVER THAILAND

Story and pictures by ROBERT DAVIS

Dave takes a 'paddle shower' from the confines of his kayak.

Getting back into the kayak is easier said than done.

Exploring in Din Daeng, an area known for its red soil.

Chick prepares to enter the water.

Using binoculars to observe the wildlife.

In Din Daeng high and thick grass rises from murky swamp-like water.

The view as you approach Khao Sok National Park.

Floating bungalows in the reservoir in Khao Sok National Park.

Unloading kayaks and getting set for the main event.

A young boy helping to unload the kayaks.

The brochure sounded interesting enough _ observe wildlife, rare birds, Asiatic black bears, Asiatic wild pigs and other animals that have been listed as endangered species. Our adventure, the wording said, would take us into Khao Sok National Park, southern Thailand's largest park.

I was uncertain about the next statement _ we wouldn't be trekking or touring in a long tail boat, for the animals would certainly flee from our sight at the sound of humans approaching. No, for our trip, we would have to paddle to areas that are inaccessible by foot and only reached by kayak.

"Touring by kayak," I read, "is comfortable and convenient, without disturbing the environment." Maybe the last statement was correct, but I wasn't sure about the comfortable part.

There's one problem. I said to Dave Williams, owner and operator of Paddle Asia. I am not expert paddler.

"Never mind," Dave replied with assurance. "For this trip we can teach you all you need to know in less than half an hour."

I met Dave at the Phuket Hash House Harriers a few months ago. Dave is an athlete who loves extreme sports. Before settling in Phuket, he paddled many of the Americas' toughest and most dangerous rivers. "I was fortunate enough to combine my love of teaching, paddling and wildlife into a profession," Dave confesses with a smile.

And as I was about to learn, that was just what our tour would include. After entering Khao Sok Park in Surat Thani, we immediately drove straight to Chao Lan Reservoir where we unload supplies of bottled water and food and our kayaks.

What makes Paddle Asia unique is that its fleet is comprised of US imported traditional kayaks and not the common sit-on-top or inflatable kayaks that are popular with daytrips around Phuket's islands. For our trip we would be sitting down low, inside the kayak hull, level with the water. Our first destination was too far to paddle and we had to load our supplies into a long tail boat that would transfer us to the base camp. With our kayaks securely fastened behind us, we sped off over the calm waters of Chao Lan Reservoir. The part that I was concerned about was confirmed; it was comfortable, sort of.

One thing that was evident from the very beginning was Paddle Asia's commitment to an environmental friendly tour. They don't just advertise eco-tour, but live it. Dave requires his long-tail boat operators to use a muffler. Muffler-less long tails not only interrupt the peace and calm of the park, but also scare away much of the wildlife as well.

Our base camp for the first couple of days was Glai Son National Park Bungalows, offered a string of floating bamboo huts deep in the heart of the reservoir. Here our adventure would begin. My hut was located down a long, floating walkway that sagged and creaked with my every step. Inside, the hut was simply built out of thatched palm. The bamboo floor of the hut was less than six inches above the lake and a thin mattress surrounded by a mosquito net made up the rooms furnishing. A window lifted out and there was even a door that led onto a narrow ledge where we could secure our kayaks and even dive in for a swim.

Over a lunch of rice and fish, Dave explained what we could expect to see and what was rare. But first, he would give me an introductory class on paddling technique. Learning to paddle was simple enough and now I was ready. Joining us on the trip was Moo, Dave's wife and partner, and Chick Dowd from Martha's Vineyard in the United States. Chick is the owner of a sea-kayaking company and spends the off-peak season each year travelling the world searching for exciting and exotic kayaking destinations. She has paddled amongst whales in Nova Scotia and even managed to paddle her kayak through the Panama Canal.

We stowed our cameras, film and binoculars into dry sacks and secured them to the kayaks. And a couple of bottles of water each since we would be gone for a few hours. We were ready.

Slipping into the water we set out. I was a bit awkward at first, but I managed to keep the kayak from tipping. I followed the wake of the others and settled into an easy rhythm. We had been paddling for less than ten minutes when Dave adjusted his paddle swinging the kayak around smoothly and quietly. The others copied his move and I, a little less graceful, followed. Dave pointed up at the trees.

"Gibbons," he whispered barely able to hide his excitement. "Wild gibbons."

Dave signalled for me to come closer to his boat. There are few places in the world where you can see gibbons in their natural habitat. Most people only see them in bars or fairs where they are exploited for their cuteness.

"Much like we use trails on the ground, oftentimes they follow tree-top trails," Dave said.

We had been paddling for only a few minutes when we heard a continuous whooshing high above. With an unmistakable flight pattern of the helmeted hornbill, which are native to Southeast Asia. Helmeted hornbills have a red, wrinkled neck and a tuft of black feathers on the crown. Their wingspan is up to two meters and the tail feather has an extension of up to a foot and a half. With the help of binoculars I was able to see the red eye, which identifies him as the male.

During the next couple of hours we paddled along the shorelines lined with bamboo, palms and old growth jungle. In the coves we saw patches of milfoil plants and morning glory and high above in the branches of dipterrocarp trees wild orchids were growing. During the next two hours we were able to see an array of bird species such as; great slaty woodpecker, crested serpent eagle, wreathe hornbill, ospreys, grey-headed fish eagle and other raptors. But we were far from finished. As dusk was approaching Dave suggested we paddle over to one more cove. He had seen some heavy prints along the bank only the week before and was eager to photograph the prints if they were still there. "What were the prints," we asked. He didn't answer.

In a matter of minutes we were nearing the shoreline of the cove he had indicated. A big smile appeared on Dave's face, as there was no mistaking the prints now. Heaps of elephant dung lay in piles where the sand bank had been trampled upon while the elephants bathed in the cool lake water. Judging by the freshness of the dung, we had probably just missed seeing the Asian elephant in the wild. However, all was not lost. Soon I was about to see another animal take a bath. Arriving back at our camp, everyone tied their kayaks to their huts. All of us, except Dave that is. Taking out a bar of soap from his kit, he lathered up while still sitting in his kayak. Suddenly, he performed a series of rolls in the water, dunking himself under and over again in the water. Rinsing complete, both Dave and his Dagger Kayak looked clean and fresh.

"Let me see you brush your teeth that way," joked Moo from the dock.

The rest of us would bathe using the more traditional shower in the park, a Shanghai jar and dipper.

That night over a dinner of grilled barramundi and snakehead fish, curries and fresh fruits Dave brought out his laptop computer to begin a virtual tour of the many species that he has photographed during his eleven years as a kayak tour operator. He went onto give us clues for identifying bird species by observing the various flight patterns and calls of the birds, and the differences between dusky langurs and gibbons. Elementary stuff for experts, but helpful information for a novice like me. Soon, I would discover the joy of being able to recognise a species and call out his or her given name. These presentations are an important feature of Paddle Asia tours, often missing from other tour companies. To work, they need a presenter who can explain the complex species of wildlife and their relationships in their habitat.

"Our goal is to not only introduce people to the joys of paddling, but the love and respect of nature and wildlife," Dave said seriously.

We were served a breakfast of pancakes with sliced bananas and Muesli. Today would be a full day of paddling and we would need all of our energy.

"We are fueled by carbohydrates, not hydrocarbons," Dave said with a grin. Dave cuts a lean, athletic figure.

Today's schedule would include a morning paddle followed by lunch and then we would transfer to another camp that would allow us to see a different variety of flora and fauna.

The morning paddle was filled with a wide variety of bird species. I could barely contain my excitement when I was able to identify a wreathed hornbill by name and gender. When Dave confirmed that I was correct, I let out my own wild, whooping call of joy.

"Hairy-chested gibbon," Chick said pointing at me. We all had a good laugh at that one.

Time passed quickly and all too soon we turned around for our paddle back to camp. After lunch and a short rest, we set out for Din Daeng, an area that is known for its red soil and high, thick grass that rises from murky swamp-like water. Paddling in the Din Daeng water was slow and often times tedious, but all of our efforts were rewarded with some beautiful bird sightings. As there are many dead trees in the area, woodpeckers are common. And we saw plenty. My favourite was the Greater Flame back Woodpecker with its colours of golden back and red crest on a male and black crest on female. Another one that got everybody excited was the Stork-bill kingfisher. With its blue wings and black, yellow collar and breast, and a heavy red beak. We were fortunate enough to observe the kingfisher as he swooped down to the water, grabbing a fish with his mouth large red beak and return to his perch atop a dead tree.

Paddling our kayaks through a maze of high grass we were joined by palm swifts and barn swallows darting all around us. But our delight would soon turn to sadness. Spotting smoke rising from the marsh we thought it strange for a fire in the marsh. Could it be campers? We paddled over for a closer look. We noticed two men quickly duck down out of sight. Poachers! We had accidentally snuck up on a poachers' camp. We were not the only ones who came to seek out Khao Sok's abundant wildlife.

We moved our camp to another part of Chao Lan Reservoir, Ton Tui Bungalows. Here the bungalows were of the same design as the first, only in better condition and fewer guests. In fact, we were the only visitors there.

The day had been full of paddling and wildlife sightings and each person was happy, tired. Wanting a bath, we decided the best way was a swim in the freshness of the lake. Dave suggested we get to bed early as he had a surprise for us tomorrow. Little did I know what that would mean.

Next day we were up early and after breakfast, we loaded our kayaks, bringing sandals as Dave had told us.

"Great. We are going for a hike," I said.

"Sort of," Dave answered.

On our final day in Khao Sok we would paddle alongside the great Karst rock formations. Impressive formations that have an internal drainage and percolates to the water table. It is here, inside the Karst, where underwater caves and hidden pools can be found. I had no idea what exploring them would mean. Finding the entrance he was searching for, Dave signalled for Chick and I too paddle over. Tying our kayaks together, Dave told us to bring our shoes. But, first there was a warning.

"Normally, I don't take guests on this tour. Only if I feel they are fit and experienced in the outdoors," he said looking at me cautiously. "We will be climbing up and over rocks and swimming in caves with little or no light. And then we will swim through some tunnels. If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to go. No problem."

I thought quickly. Dave was an extreme sport enthusiast. Chick was a professional kayak guide who also scuba dives and especially loves cave dives. And I was a writer. I didn't have much time to decide, as Chick was already halfway up the rocks. No way, was I going to stay behind while a woman went ahead. Or at least I thought. Dave grinned and pointed out some toeholds. The rocks were jagged and sharp. There were no ropes or ladders. We would have to reach high and pull ourselves up, avoiding not only the razor sharpness of the rocks that we were trying to climb, but also, from falling onto the rocks that lie just beneath the surface below.

At the top, we found a crater that had a hidden pool of emerald green water. From our position high above we could see rocks jutting out from the pool below. Dave steadied himself and in one careful lunge dove out high over the rocks and into the pool.

"You'll want to dive out far and with a controlled belly-flop," he instructed Chick. Instantly, she was airborne. Now it was my turn. I looked for a safer way down to the pool. There wasn't one. Steadying myself, I dove out as far as I could. Coming up for air, I saw Dave and Chick grinning as they shook the water from their faces.

What a belly-flop, Dave admired. Damn near drained the pool.

We left the sunlight and swam into the cave. It was dark and with a small flashlight Dave beamed up above. Bats! Hundreds of them. But we didn't need to see them to know that they were there. For we could smell them, and of course, feel them as it rained from above. Swimming into the darkness I thought of a programme I had seen on the National Geographic channel about Siamese crocodiles.

"I don't think that they are too common in these parts," he answered.

"Not too common, or not at all?" I asked sharply. "Not at all," he laughed.

Swimming on we explored the cave. Ahead shone a ray of light illuminating the dark water. Great, we would be climbing out soon. I was wrong.

"Here we'll swim down, under, through a tunnel and out to the other side," Dave said. "Take a deep breath."

My pulse quickened. Doubt filled my mind. Could I do it? Instantly, Dave was down and under. Then Chick. I was next. I looked behind and there was nothing but darkness and murky water. I waited. How far was the tunnel? Hold my breath for how long? In a flash Chick was back. "It's only about 20 feet. Don't worry, I am a certified lifeguard and I know CPR," Chick said. "Nice to know," I said.

Taking a deep breath, I dived down and into the water tunnel. I could see a faint trace of light and I swam hard till out and then kicked my legs till my head broke through the surface with a gasp. What a rush! Nothing to fear, but fear itself, Dave said.

Back at base camp we packed our gear and loaded once again in the long-tail boat. Our trip over, we would motor back to the headquarters of Khao Sok National Park. The ride back allowed me to reflect on the trip. Before starting out, I had never thought that bird watching could be so exciting. Neither had I thought about the delicate balance between national parks, wildlife and tourism. I am not a natural thrill seeker. The idea of climbing rocks, swimming in caves and through tunnels had always intimidated me. Not anymore.