The Magical Spell of Koh Samet

My soul ached for a getaway from the crowded, pent-up, and polluted city I lived then. I was tired of the heat and dust, the political rallies & empty promises, of mechanical slogging in overcrowded classrooms where I teach English.

 It was indeed a call of the universe that whispered to me about a perfect home, away from home, I sought for with my sick heart! My husband joined me, and we found the ideal bliss of bower at Koh Samed, the paradisiacal archipelago off the coast of Thailand. One day we landed up at Ban Phe pier to catch a speedboat to transport us away to the beach of white sand and limestone rocks that jutted out of the craggy shore surrounded by Cajeput and Deciduous trees of different varieties.  Drenched in sprays of the sea and warm sunlight, we entered into this quiet zone of our lonely planet.

We discovered the exotic Gulf of Thailand overlooking the Island of Khao Pakarang Bay. Our eyes were soaking in the beauty of the sunlight, which got reflected in the blue & violet sea. Being entranced by the bright foliage that glimmered around, I forgot to sip the delicious cranberry juice offered to me on my arrival!

 A strong whiff of some tropical flowers and leaves filled up our senses as we proceeded down the tree-laden narrow path towards our octagonal purple bungalow surrounded by Tabac trees. The leaves shivered as the sea breeze blew. We found plumeria and oleanders abloom in autumnal noon. I swooned when I happened to see clusters of pheasants atop the trees. A strange bird welcomed us with her continuous teeee teeee!

It was like living and breathing nature as we lay down in our cottage room to watch the tropical grove of Tien Talay tree and Pottalay tree, whose branches seemed to extend their love to the blue sky overhead! We learned these local names of the trees from the people who cleaned our cottage.

The avant-garde restaurant by the seaside provided the cool covert from the intense orange sunlight where we ate our Thai chicken and vegetable soup and sticky rice as the greeneries of the distant Island and the changing colors of the steel grey sea drowned our senses. The warm hospitality of gentle Thai people blends with the tranquil nature that surrounds their existence. I discovered a strange harmony of the soft-spoken Thai waiters with the flexible cajeput trees and the elegant little tropical birds that flew around, chirping playfully. I learned from the English-speaking manager that Koh Samet means cajeput Island!

 The wooden floor of the enclosed Siam-styled restaurant extended towards the sea.  They laid some of the tables under the open sky. We chose our seat there for our taste Thai beer. We wanted to be in close communion with the billows and the breakers that bathed the rocks and the pebbles incessantly.

Foreigners poured in from all corners of the world. Most of them seemed to be seekers of solitude and peace. They spoke in whispers with eyes that wandered afar as they watched the distant boats and kawaks that climbed up and down the waves, moving towards the other beaches of the Island where the palm trees bent on the shores to greet the strangers in the small boats.

Some ancient couples held hands to savor the treasured moments spent together while a lone backpacker sat in a swing that hung from the branches, lost in some deep reflection! The young ones swam across the calm bay.   The faraway green hills of Ao Karang & Ao Jek seemed to call us to communicate.

 I wondered at the patient Thai young lady with a forced American accent, who, continually, saw over the guests to provide them with assistance and service. Despite the genial smile that always hovered around her lips, her lonely eyes perhaps betrayed her homesickness.

The cool sea breeze surrounded us with a strange wild fragrance of the Island. The tropical deciduous trees shed their yellow and brownish flat leaves.

These trees had crooked branches and thick foliage.  To quote Keats, it was “Season of mist & mellow fruitfulness” when the sunlight seemed to touch everything into rich golden. We saw the magnificent sunset at Pakarang cape. As darkness descended, the Japanese- styled lanterns hanging from the trees enhanced the mystery of the glory of the night and the solitude that hung around.

 The swinging lanterns created a surreal play of lights and shadows as the silhouettes of the few tourists were visible among the bushes that clustered along the shore. We visited the other side of the beach where Kawaks stood one atop the other, and the white powdery sand glimmered in the moonlight.

There, near the pier, sat a man on a raised platform under a Pottalay tree, curiously peering into his iPhone with a frown, perhaps trying to communicate with his loved ones with the tenuous wifi connection.  Khao Pakarang Bay was the farthest from the mainland, and so, the Wifi snapped now and again. I felt glad to be off my internet at this hour of the night.  I connected with my family once every day while in the restaurant in the morning for breakfast.

 Life, once again, was no more clamped down by electronics & mindless chats. The noises from the human world eventually melted into thin air, and the whispers of the shimmering sea were borne to us by the Zephyr, its light-winged messenger, into our senses.

The night island came alive with the buzzing of the cicada and the call of the frogs. The choric music was audible from any distance, along with the rhythmic lapping of the surfs.

 I heard a strange, persistent call of a nocturnal bird as I watched my husband reading a copy of ‘The Jungle” by Upton Sinclair under the dim light of the almost empty restaurant. At a corner table sat a grey-haired man with his half-finished bottle of whiskey with dazed eyes as if trying to ponder over, ineffectually, the reasons behind some past mistakes. His wife sat in silence, concentrating on the gleaming beaches afar, or lost in her private world?

I was swaying gently in a swing. I visualized the ghosts of the pirates who had occupied this lone Island before the arrival of the tourists. I imagined their ghost footfalls in the dark groves on the farther side of the pier where stood the shrine and stupa of Lord Buddha to protect the hallowed isle from storms and enemies.

There was no storm, but the sea was choppy the next day, and we had booked a speedboat to explore the other islands nearby. It was mid-noon when we started, and the sky looked somber, overhung with dark clouds. There was no trace of the sun. However, the bouncy boat across the foaming waves with only two of us and two young boatmen ruffled our spirit with fear and delight!

 The billowing water sprayed on us, and we got drenched as we sat in the front. We entered other beaches from where other travelers boarded. A group of teenagers chirped on in Chinese, and a humorous German lady, named Claudia, while talking to me, referred to them as small fishes that babble away most of the time. These happy young souls shouted in glee and courteously bowed at us. We met tourists from different corners of the world at other exotic coral beaches.

Some of them jumped headlong into the sea, donned in their snorkeling dresses. I regretted my ignorance in swimming. I found them snorkeling merrily across the greyish orange sea, glistening with colored fishes which floated, careened under the surface water as the setting sun looked like a deep orange candyfloss peeping behind the fleecy clouds.

We wondered at the limestone rock caves in the mid-sea! It was then that the milky white coral island with coconut groves suddenly appeared within our sight! There was no hotel or resort to being seen. There were stretches of silver sand and bluish green sea, and the coconut groves surrounded the vast rock formation that towered over the water along the coastline.

 Other islands were more crowded because they are gorgeous with their lush greenery. Tabac trees surrounded another strange island and small cottages behind the thick mango groves where some Thai fishermen lived with their families.  There were tiny shops selling coffee and snacks to the tourists. We were offered fresh pineapples and melons by the tourist resort we had booked at Khao  Pakarang  Bay. The fishermen’s boats stood in a line as it was growing darker.

We saw the illuminated islands afar on our return journey, and the dark sea droned on when the pale moon appeared in the sky. The late autumn night felt chill, and the boatsmen reached each group of tourists to their respective Island where they took shelter. They bade goodbye to my husband and me. We were supposed to get the loneliest Island lit up by magic lanterns.

The atmosphere felt more solitary as most of the tourists had left that morning or the day before. We saw only the old couple we met yesterday and an American gentleman, with his Thai girlfriend, sat in the seaside restaurant, drinking beer.

We felt the silence of the aisle as we walked down the narrow path, surrounded by tropical trees and the mysterious call of the nightjars and cicadas! We reached our tiny, cute cottage, which stood embraced by darkness. The other empty houses stood like ghosts observing us. We changed ourselves and had little snacks we had bought in the morning that day. We were too tired to visit that restaurant for dinner. So we retired to bed. The peace of the night and the sound of the waves lulled us to sleep.

After a hearty breakfast, it was time to bid goodbye to the lonely Island. The Thai Manager of the seaside cafeteria smiled wistfully at us. Perhaps she waits all day long to meet new faces among the tourists who would smile and often talk to her about her home.

The boat moved farther and farther away from the magical ambiance. I carried a little sadness in my heart because I have never lived so close to nature before. I knew I was going back to Thailand’s busy floating market and the fantastic “Wat Pho.” So I cheered up my spirit😊