Tiger Woods: Up Close in Thailand

Tiger Woods at the Johnny Walker Tournament

Photojournalist Prisana Nuechterlein gets up close with Tiger Woods in Thailand. An uplifting account in the midst of Tiger's great fall.

Story and pictures by Prisana Nuechterlein  

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Ball

“Have you seen my ball?” Tiger Woods asks me. I’ve been following him for a few hours, shooting pictures of the Johnny Walker Tournament for my publisher. I can’t seem to utter a word in reply and begin looking in earnest for Tiger’s ball. Of course, I am not alone in this quest. There are now at least 7 of us searching for the lost ball.

Earlier in the day, I had met Tiger’s father, Earl Woods, as he was riding around in a golf cart. The former Green Beret lieutenant colonel was all smiles and shook my hand with great strength when I introduced myself as “Prisana.”

“Are you a luk kreung?” he asked me incredulously, recognizing that my name was Thai. This was perhaps the millionth time, that I have been asked if I am half Thai, because although my mother is Thai and my father is Italian; I look 100% farang (foreign in Thai). Tiger on the other hand, definitely looks hasip-hasip (50-50 in Thai). Much easier than saying that he is: “25 percent Thai and 25 percent Chinese from his mom, Kutilda Woods; 25 percent African-American, 12.5 percent American Indian, and 12.5 percent Caucasian Dutch from his dad, Earl Woods” as stated in an article titled; Thais that Bind by Dave McKenna.

Earl Woods in Phuket 1998

A birdie, a bogie and an eagle. Oh my!

While I have occasionally visited a driving range, my knowledge of golf is practically nil. This was obvious to Tiger’s mother Kultilda (a Thailand native), when I asked her what a birdie was? She couldn’t have been more kind and patient, explaining to me about a birdie, a bogie and an eagle, as we sat on the greens enjoying the Phuket sunshine and watching her son hit what appeared to be super-natural shots.
For three surreal days, I stalked Tiger and South Africa’s Ernie Els, along with some other fearsome competitors at the Blue Canyon Country Club, the hosts for the Johnny Walker Tournament in 1998. Those were the glory days, when writers following Tiger, didn’t fret about whether to title their article: Tiger Woods: Up Close in Thailand, or Tiger Woods: Up Close in Thailand, but not that close!

Tiger's Great Fall

I have to admit, I was quite saddened by Tiger’s fall from perfection, but not all that surprised. Phuket is a small island, and the coconut wire was hot on Tiger’s trail following his every movement back in 1998. One night, (according to Coconuts in the know) Tiger ventured into Phuket town to let a bit of his bad boy side out and though the details were sketchy...when I asked him the following day; "Did you have fun last night in Phuket town?" Tiger about tripped over his golf club.

This was my second day following Tiger, and my nerves had calmed down immensely since the morning of his lost ball. He gave me a surprised smile and regained his cool stride, intrigued for a moment by my knowledge of his night out on the town.

I suppose what I find hard to believe is that it took so long for Tiger’s secret world to implode. Fourteen mistresses is a hard number to manage. And yet, the world was none the wiser until that fateful day in Tiger’s life, when everything turned upside down.

The Tiger I witnessed back in 1998, was at the height of his game and his life, beating Ernie Els in an astonishing comeback, that amazed everyone watching - including Els, who had been leading the tournament. I’d like to think that perhaps I had some small part in his comeback, due to an observation that I shared with his body guard on day two of the tournament.

Ernie Els

Zen and the Art of Tiger

Tiger was preparing himself for a swing, when the sound of bird calls distracted him to the point of obvious frustration. I wondered if Tiger had ever studied Zen before and asked his bodyguard to pass on a message to him about studying Zen to improve his game. The following day, his bodyguard told me that my message was relayed and that: “Tiger told me to throw you into the nearest pond.”

Tiger in the woods with Mike "Fluff" Cowan, his first caddie.

Tiger Wood’s Second Coming

I think back to those moments of humour and awe and the less tabloid-rich life that Tiger once lived. Before sadly losing his father, (who was also his best friend) to cancer in 2006; and before a large part of his private life unravelled for all the world to dissect. Perhaps the root of his disastrous great fall lies within this quote which his father shared with Sports Illustrated:

“He's the bridge between the East and the West. There is no limit because he has the guidance. I don't know yet exactly what form this will take. But he is the Chosen One. He'll have the power to impact nations. Not people. Nations. The world is just getting a taste of his power." 

Johnny Walker Tournament at Blue Canyon Country Club

 The Chosen One

His father may have had the best of intentions, but what mere mortal could live up to being called, “The Chosen One?” The Tiger I watched for three glorious days, was an amazing athlete with supernatural abilities – but he was not The Chosen One. He was just a young man, who made Thailand proud and gave the world his best.

Conversely, in the nearly 2 years since Tiger was caught cheating with a harem of women, “he has lost four major sponsors, changed swing coaches, was divorced from his wife and now has cut loose his caddie, ” writes Doug Ferguson.

In spite of all these setbacks, I have no doubt that Tiger will make an impressive comeback, even more spectacular than on that unimaginable day in Phuket. He just needs to practice a bit more Zen and all will be right in his world.

Official Tiger stalkers - Prisana Nuechterlein on right. Picture by Matthew Burns

GOLF COURSES IN PHUKET

Blue Canyon Country Club
Address: 165, Moo 1, Thepkasattri Road, Thalang Phuket 83110
Tel:  +66 (0)7632 8088 
Tour Available: Blue Canyon Country Club

Red Mountain Golf Club
Location: Kathu district, between Kathu village and Kathu waterfall
Tel: +66 (0)76-322000-1
Tour Available: Red Mountain Course

Laguna Phuket Golf Club
Address: 34 Moo 4, Srisoonthorn Road, Cherngtalay Thalang, Phuket 83110
Tel:  +66 (0)76 324 350
Tour Available: Laguna Phuket Golf Club

Loch Palm Golf Club
Address: 38 Moo 5 Vichitsongkram Rd., Kathu District, Phuket , Thailand. 83120
Tel: +66 (0)76 321 929-34
Tour Available: Loch Palm Golf Club

Phuket Country Club
Address: 80/1 Moo 7, Vichitsongkram Raod, Katu, Phuket 83120
Tel: +66 (0)7631 9200-204
Tour Available: Phuket Country Club

Underwater Rock Stars

Picture by Mike Johnston

Hin Daeng, a relatively unknown diving destination in southern Thailand offers divers rare encounters with whale sharks, manta rays and giant eels. 

Author's Note: This article was originally published in the Bangkok Post in 1996.

I was just about to ascend when I saw John Williams, co-founder of Siam Diving Center, frantically pointing into the dark blue depths. Scanning the water below, I knew almost without a doubt that his "look here" gesture could only mean one thing: he had spotted a whale shark.

We were diving at Hin Daeng (Red Rock), 48 nautical miles southeast of Phuket. Topside, the rocky outcrop is easily recognized, jutting a few meters above the sea. Below, a vertical wall dropsan abrupt 55 meters on one side and gently slopes on the other, creating an ideal underwater seascape for encounters with larger marine life. Common to this area is the gray reef shark, giant schools of jacks, fusiliers, tuna and barracuda.

In our three days of diving at various "hot spots" from Shark Point near Phuket to Red Rock, we had seen an amazing array of marine life; leopard sharks, nurse sharks, giant eels, octopus and a magnificent variety of colorful reef fish. Still, our greatest desire was to encounter a whale shark.

Aside from John and Frank Hebert, our equipment manager on the Daranee, (a live-aboard dive boat we had booked from Phuket) the other members of our dive group had never seen a whale shark. In fact, John had been diving for 15 years before his first whale shark encounter in the Similan Islands a few years earlier.

Although whale sharks are considered rare, in recent years the number of sightings by local dive operators has increased dramatically. A few companies reported more than 12 encounters in a single month. A member of the species Rhinocodon typus, the whale shark is the largest fish in existence. However, these gentle giants are harmless to divers, feeding on only small fish and plankton. Most often they are found cruising near the surface, where their food source is most abundant.

Pumped with adrenaline, our dive group raced toward John, glancing at each other with excitement. And yet, as we approached closer, I still couldn't see anything in the dark, gloomy water. I stared out into an empty blue void, wondering if the mysterious creature had possibly already vanished. Then suddenly, a dark shadow emerged underneath John and I saw the unmistakable white markings of a whale shark!

Our group finned rapidly trying to keep up with the "baby" shark, which was about three meters in length. Adults can grow up to 15 meters and weigh more than 20 tons. With his camera in tow, John managed a face-to-face meeting with the shark, clicking off one shot of the shark's wide mouth before it shot off into the murky distance.

The young shark was obviously startled when another diver touched his dorsal fin. While older sharks will let divers "hitch-hike" on them, and even appear to enjoy playing with divers, young ones are less tolerant and are easily frightened. 

Emerging from the water, our group beamed with joyous smiles. We soon learned that Frank was the only member of our dive group who hadn't seen the whale shark.

"Oh, did you see Oscar?" he asked, as if we'd run into an old friend.

Apparently "Oscar" was another young whale shark he'd seen on several occasions at Hin Muang, the dive site we'd explored the previous day.

Lying close to Hin Daeng, Hin Muang’s uncharted pinnacle is completely hidden 6 meters underneath the water’s surface. Appropriately named Purple Rock, Hin Muang is covered by brilliant purple soft corals and sea anemones. On one side, a vertical wall plunges 60 meters to the ocean floor, while the flat top of the rock measures about 15 meters across.

The highlight of Hin Muang, of course, is the possibility of meeting Oscar or one of his friends. Whale shark encounters here are nearly on par with Richelieu Rock, a world-class diving destination located near the Surins. Possibly the largest whale shark, a massive 14 meters, was seen at Hin Muang. The impressive rock is also teeming with an amazing variety of marine life, making it one of the best dives in Thailand.

Picture by Tim Sheerman-Cha

During one of our deep dives, a giant moral eel appeared snaking through the open water. His body was easily the size of a man’s thigh. Inspecting every crevice of the sheer wall, I later discovered the less common yellow moray eel peeking out of its dark burrow.

The ocean drama was spellbinding. Shimmering clouds of baitfish darted around the rock face. Numerous lionfish floated beneath bright orange sea fans. On a clump of coral, an intelligent octopus displayed its amazing ability of camouflaging by changing the texture of its skin and color, to perfectly match the coral background. On occasion, giant manta rays have been seen flying gracefully through the waters surrounding both Hin Daeng and Hin Muang.

Another compelling dive site is at Koh Ha Yai, the largest in the Koh Ha archipelago of five small islands. Lying a few hours north of Hin Daeng, Koh Ha Yai’s main attraction is its underwater sea caves. Night dives are truly spectacular at this unique location where a 20 meters descent brings you to the wide mouth of a large cavern, connected to another similar cavern by a wide archway. Ascending to the surface of one cathedral, you emerge inside a huge enclosed air chamber with shimmering crystallized limestone “waterfalls”.

Turning off our torches, we easily made our way to the surface where water shimmered brilliantly underneath a full moon. Streaks of neon blue phosphorescence flashed around us as we made our way back to the Daranee. It was a spectacular natural light show and without question the best night dive location in Thailand.

Our last stop was at Koh Rock Nok and Koh Nai, two beautiful twin islands separated by a channel approximately 15 meters deep. Strolling along Koh Rock Nok’s immaculate white sand beach, we came upon a unique shrine of sorts, constructed by local fishermen. A large number of phallic symbols adorned the shrine, expertly crafted by its worshippers. 

Reaching these remote dive sites in the Trang region is perhaps easiest from Phuket or Phi Phi, where regular departures on live-aboard dive boats can be booked from November to April. However, those who prefer a more adventurous commute can hire boats to Koh Lanta, southern Thailand’s dive base, from Krabi and Trang.

The stunning range of dive sites in the Andaman Sea waters surrounding Hin Daeng and Hin Muang is definitely worth looking under. You might even be fortunate enough to meet Oscar.

In the Shark’s Den

A diver found herself preparing for a boxing match with sharks during a recent visit to the Similan Islands.

Leopard Shark Copyright Uwe Schust

“Die! Die! Die!” shouted our smiling boat boy, urging us to jump quickly off of the dive platform. It was a shocking sendoff, especially since we were preparing for our first and deepest dive of the day – the exciting, if not crazy, 7 am pre-breakfast shark dive. A second passed before we realized that the young Thai man wasn’t actually shouting for us to hurry into our next lives, but rather he wanted us to “Dive!” into the water.

We bobbed in the calm sea waiting for the rest of our group. My Japanese dive buddy Rioshi gave me a wicked grin and asked me if I knew what to do in case of a shark attack. I shook my head. From what I’d heard, the sharks here were nearly harmless. In fact, some of the “friendlier” sharks even had names like “Snoopy”.

“You punch them in the nose,” Rioshi advised, with all the authority of a shark expert. 

At that point, I couldn’t quite imagine having a boxing match with a shark and winning. I was about to learn.

Dive Instructor Eric Nuechterlein on Scuba Cat liveabord

Rioshi, myself and nine other divers had all come to the Similan Islands aboard the Scuba Cat, a catamaran live-aboard dive boat with an excellent if oddly named, mostly Thai crew including; Captain Nut, Chef Pooh and Noisy, the charming and surprisingly animated mute first mate. The crew’s only farang, or foreign member, was my American husband Eric, who tirelessly worked as Scuba Cat’s cruise director and PADI dive instructor. Eric had more than two thousand dives under his belt and would be leading us on this morning dive to the secret shark den some 35 meters below.

Lying approximately 50 nautical miles northwest of the resort island of Phuket, the enchanting Similan Islands are idyllic – not only for divers, but for anyone seeking pristine white sandy beaches and an escape from the maddening crowds. Visitors can snorkel in the clear turquoise blue waters of the Andaman Sea, explore lush tropical jungles, climb among the large granite boulders lining the shores, sea kayak, sail or dive in an underwater world teeming with marine life.

The diving environment is especially dramatic on the western, seaward side of the islands. Imagine an aquatic Angkor Wat with Mother Nature as the architect, submerged for aeons with a stunning seascape of archways, coral “alleys”, caverns and rocky swim-throughs. These ancient stones pulsate with ceaseless marine activity, inhabited by small flitting reef fish, lumbering sea turtles, brightly colored nudibranchs and countless larger marine creatures.

Clown Fish Copyright Uwe Schust

Diving on the east side, the boulder-less underwater terrain is vastly different, but equally spectacular. Gently sloping thickets of branching hard corals dominate this region. The rich reef supports a diverse profusion of colorful reef fish; including vibrant schools of snapper, yellow damselfish, garden eels, neon blue and yellow angelfish and the regal lionfish. Eastside currents are usually slight and appropriate for divers of all levels. By comparison, Westside diving conditions are much more challenging, where currents are frequently changing in strength and direction. Visibility can vary greatly and wet suits are recommended for the chilly thermoclines.

Over the previous six days we had encountered an amazing array of sea life. At Beacon Point, while diving close to the ocean floor, I was startled when the sandy bottom began moving. Like a flock of birds taking flight, dozens of small blue-spotted stingrays emerged from the sand in circling groups. I was mesmerized by the stingray’s swirling ocean ballet. A moment later, a larger fantasy stingray appeared. With a wingspan of nearly three meters, it flew ahead of the smaller rays and then over a huge orange gorgonian sea fan.

We were diving four to six times a day, rarely remaining topside except to rest between dives and fill up our bellies on mouthwatering Thai meals. Throughout the day and into the night, Chef Pooh would shuffle up to our outside dining area, carrying trays overflowing with pineapple, bananas and papayas.  Pooh’s garlic fried prawns, imaginative squid dishes, green chicken curry and spicy shrimp soup, were heavenly. Our days would end with cold beers up on the moondeck; under a brilliant starlit sky, reliving the day’s exciting dives and sharing stories late into the night. 

Turtle Rock Sunset Picture by Prisana Nuechterlein

One early morning at Elephant Head Rock, an extremely popular dive site, I had an unforgettable encounter with a creature I had waited six years to see. I was ascending to the surface at the end of my dive, when I suddenly felt something watching me. I turned in the water and was beyond startled, when I saw a giant manta ray hovering in the sunlit water only an arm’s length away from me. The elusive flying creature eyed me for one of the longest, nirvanic moments of my life, almost as if it was waiting for me to rub its belly. I must admit, I was tempted to touch it, but instead I floated absolutely still, enraptured by the graceful swooping flips the manta made over and over. After giving me one last look, the huge manta flew off into the infinite blue expanse.

Manta Ray Copyright Uwe Schust

On our final day, Eric took us to Christmas Point - his own personal favorite dive site where he had discovered the secret shark den. Only moments into our dive, I heard a familiar metallic plinking sound, meant to alert us when Eric saw something worth sharing.

At first glance, the creature swimming near Eric appeared to be something shark-like, but as I finned closer and closer, I realized it was like nothing I had ever seen before. The genetic marvel looked like an alien fish, with big round eyes protruding from a stingray-shaped head, attached to a shark-like body. 

Rioshi looked at me with an expression that mirrored my own thoughts: What is that? Later we would learn that the mysterious otherworldly fish was the rarely ever encountered bowmouth guitar fish. 

At 35 meters depth, a strong current was taking its toll on me. I felt nearly exhausted and had given up any attempt to conserve air. Ahead of me, Eric and Rioshi finned with irritating ease, unaware of my private struggle to keep up with their pace. Kicking with all of my strength, I began to wonder if we would ever reach the shark den. Perhaps we had already missed it. Or maybe today, the sharks were elsewhere.

My legs began screaming in protest as we made our way in between large boulders and shivering thermoclines. The visibility was almost nil. Why not just ascend and forget the shark den? Just as I was about to signal Rioshi that I wanted to go up, Eric stopped and made the “shark” sign over his head, pointing into the gloomy water. Barely visible below us was a two meter white tip reef shark resting on the sandy floor. Elated, I quickly scanned the rocky area and counted a total of six other white tips and one leopard shark. Adrenalin raced through me when I realized we were actually floating in the middle of the den!

One by one, the sharks began slowly circling beneath us. I watched awestruck as one shark rolled on the ocean floor trying to scratch its back. Was it possible, I wondered, that we had found Snoopy? His behavior reminded me more of a dog than a fearsome predator. Without any warning, the dog-like shark suddenly stopped rolling and headed straight toward me with alarming speed. My entire body tensed, gripped with a moment of panic. I even attempted to fin backwards. Only a scant moment before a face-to-face encounter, the curious shark veered off with a powerful flick of its tail. I was ready with my right hook, but I was glad that I didn’t have to use it.

Author's Note: A longer version of this story was originally published  in Sawasdee Magazine (Thai Airways International Magazine) in 1998. Sadly, shark encounters in the Similan Islands has decreased significantly in the past decade.

Sea Canoeing in Southern Thailand

 

The limestone spires of Phang Nga Bay have always exuded an air of mystery. Sea canoeing expeditions open up the very hearts of these islands, where wildlife and nature abound.

 

Story and pictures by Prisana Nuechterlein

 

Exploring Phang Nga Bay

 

“Look up, but keep your mouth shut,” Joe whispers. I look up at the dark cave ceiling, trying to see the bats I hear squeaking overhead. They flit and flutter in the dim beam of my flashlight under sparkling stalactites that drape down the cave wall like a glistening ice curtain. Then suddenly, it is pitch black. The flashlight has gone dead and we bump up against the cave wall in the blinding darkness. 

“Don’t worry,” Joe says reassuringly, “I know the way out.”

Joe, a young Thai sea canoe guide, has taken hundreds of guests into Bat Cave over the past two years. They have all survived, despite having “Crazy Joe” as their guide. Like most Thais, Joe loves drama. Earlier in the day, we had nearly paddled over a giant crocodile. The ‘giant crocodile’- a viciously jagged rock, was yet another creation of Joe’s vivid imagination. A short time later we encountered a ‘wild elephant’ – a limestone formation that actually did look like an elephant’s head.

Escaping from Bat Cave

 

After a few moments of drifting in total darkness, I begin to feel like a bat. The pungent odor of bat dung envelopes us. Joe turns the canoe and we hit another cave wall. He grabs the flashlight, fumbles with it until it comes back to life. 

“Watch your head,” he warns. 

I duck just in time to miss a low hanging stalactite. Slipping underneath a rocky archway, we suddenly emerge into the blinding sunlight of Bat Hong. 

The dramatic limestone islands of Phang Nga Bay are regarded as one of Thailand’s most mystical and stunning seascapes. A compelling geological masterpiece; the colossal spires are world famous for their collection of what once was described as “secret” hongs – hearts of islands, containing natural sanctuaries of unsurpassed beauty.

Lying only an hour away from Phuket, the hongs (literally meaning “room” in Thai) are hidden tidal lagoons, completely enclosed by sheer limestone cliff walls. The only way to access these amazing hongs is through sea caves – some so narrow they resemble rocky cocoons.

We glide over the calm water inside Bat Hong, absorbing the primeval world around us in quiet meditation. The hong buzzes with swirling insect noises and melodic bird songs. Towering mangrove trees soar above us covering the jungle-fringed cliffs. Joe points to my left. A large owl stares down at us. Mudskippers jump across giant mangrove roots. Tiny silver fish dart under our canoe. We retreat to a shady corner and sit in silence absorbing the marvelous view around us. Joe continues paddling, taking us through a narrow passage into smaller hong. He taps my shoulder and points up into the treetops. I see a brown blur and then spot a group of monkeys sitting atop the branches. 

Back on board the support boat, the delicious aroma of lunch greets us. Boom, our talented chef, has prepared a feast of spicy prawns, lemongrass-coconut milk and shrimp soup, grilled fish, ginger chicken, mixed vegetables and fried rice. We are in culinary heaven, practically licking our plates clean.

 John "Caveman" Gray

Sea canoe trips to Phang Nga Bay first began in 1989, after conservationist John “Caveman” Gray, also known as "Ling Yai" (meaning big monkey in Thai),  discovered several sea cave windows leading into the hongs. From the vantage point of his trusty sea canoe, Gray observed the tidal movements at various caves and diligently recorded the intervals between their closing and opening. After months of exploration and observation, his findings provided him with the tidal knowledge necessary to lead sea canoe excursions.

Today, there are numerous sea canoe companies competing for space in the once pristine hongs. Occasionally, there is even a “traffic jam” of canoes waiting to enter the caves. It is a far cry from the secret world Gray first shared with his truly fortunate guests, but still well worth the trip to Phang Nga Bay. 

We head out to Mangrove Hong and enter a sea cave scarcely large enough for our sea canoe. The tide is high now, making the “window” or access way inside the karst monoliths, nearly impossible. “Please lie back and keep your arms and legs inside the canoe,” Joe warns. The jagged, oyster encrusted opening passes only a meter above my nose. I imagine what Caveman must have felt upon entering the cave for the very first time, not knowing where the dark claustrophobic cave would lead him. For us, it is a thrilling adventure, especially having an expert like Joe to guide us.

Back out in the open sea, we circumnavigate Koh Hong. The sound of the ocean echoes eerily, rocking back and forth underneath the limestone overhangs. Joe spots a huge sea lizard climbing out of the slapping water onto a rocky ledge. The lizard freezes for a moment, gives us a curious glance, then scrambles away into the water.

After a brilliant day of hong exploration, we return to Phuket quenched with a wondrous feeling of having seen the best that Nature could create. 

"This place is perfect nature,” Joe remarks. 

Perfect in every way.

Recommended Sea Canoe Company

 

John Gray Sea Canoe Co., Ltd.
124 Soi 1 Yaowarat Rd., Taladyai, Muang, Phuket 83000, Thailand
Tel. (66-76) 254505-7 | Fax: (66-76) 226077
E-mail: info.web@johngray-seacanoe.com
Website: http://www.johngray-seacanoe.com/

A True Cliff Hanger in Phra Nang, Thailand

Phuket climber Nicola scaling the heights of Phra Nang

Rock Climbing in Krabi

 

The jagged cliff face soared hundreds of meters above me. “There’s a handhold on your left,” my climbing instructor yelled from the beach below. I reached up and felt my way over the rough limestone rock. “There, you’ve got it.” Got what? I thought. I gripped the miniscule handhold and shakily held the rock wall called “Massage Secrets” as I desperately searched for my next move. 

The colossal karst cliff formation containing “Massage Secrets” also known as “One-Two-Three,” is Phra Nang’s most popular climbing site. With its easy beach access and varied levels of 10 to 26 meter bolted routes, the area offers thrilling challenges for both beginners and experienced climbers.

Located less than three hours drive from the resort island of Phuket, the stunning Phra Nang peninsula in southern Thailand was once considered remote attracting mostly beach loving backpackers. Today, however, the narrow sliver of land that separates the palm tree-fringed Railey beach from Sunset Beach is home to several five-star hotels, numerous bungalows, and known worldwide as a climber’s paradise.

Phra Nang’s steep pinnacles first captured the attention of European climbers in the mid-1980s. 

 

Then in 1990 two Frenchmen, Francois Burnier and Domonique Potard arrived in a tangle of ropes, hauling massive amounts of climbing equipment, including 400 bolts. Through their painstaking and ambitious efforts, a large number of bolted routes were established.

At the same time, their fascinating ascents inspired a few local Thais to learn the art of rock climbing. Among them were three friends: Somyod “Tex” Thongkaew, Somporn “King” Suebhait (the founder of King Climbers) and Vichit “Dean” Sayom, who all swiftly became Thailand’s first well known rock climbers. Due to their devotion and enthusiasm, combined with that of other talented climbers, the formerly “secret” Phra Nang area in Krabi emerged as one of Asia’s most remarkable climbing locales with hundreds of spectacular bolted climbing routes.

It had been 17 years since my last rock climbing attempt in Mexico, where I nearly plunged to my death (or at least it had felt that way), so my first question upon reaching Dean’s beachfront office was whether anyone had ever died while rock climbing at Phra Nang.
“It’s a lot safer than diving,” an instructor assured me after learning that I was a scuba diver. “Don’t worry, no one has died. We have a strict safety policy here – none of us drink or smokes – and we never rent out equipment to people who ask for those ‘thingies.’”
“A carabiner?” I offered, surprised that I could remember what a “thingy” was.

“Right. But real climbers call them ‘beaners.’”

After asking a few dozen other questions and seeing the company’s inventory of brand new equipment, I happily signed up for a beginner’s course. A 9 a.m. the following morning I arrived back at the office and joined three other climbers and Dean. I was excited but definitely nervous. A short stroll down the beach took us to a massive karst limestone cliff formation. It was a busy morning, and more than two dozen climbers were already milling around the shady climb site.

“You’re lucky you weren’t here in December,” said Dean. “People were waiting sometimes over an hour to climb.”

With trembling anxiety I took my turn on the user-friendly sounding rock wall called “Massage Secrets” (relieved that we wouldn’t be climbing “Definitely Makes You Whinge,” “Primal Scream” or “Apocalypso”) and checked my harness for the tenth time. But my nervousness soon turned to total embarrassment. No matter how I contorted my body, I couldn’t manage to climb above the first rock overhang. Finally, with a big boost from Dean, I “cheated” and at last started my ascent.

Slowly, I inched my way upward from one handhold to the next. Dean was telling me to relax, to have fun and to trust my legs. Trust? No way. My legs were shaking insanely on toeholds that he called “great.” I stared up at the rope, “beaners” and bolts with absolute distrust. Then suddenly one meter from the top I got completely stuck. Meanwhile every muscle in my body was screaming.

Finally, there was no choice but to let go. “I think I’m going to fall,” I called out fearfully. But instead of faaaaaalllling (like I had in Mexico) when I let go, the rope held me in practically the same spot. What I hadn’t realized was that I was doing what is called top rope climbing, meaning the rope was attached to my harness and secured to a bolt at the top of the climb and controlled by Dean from the beach, instead of how I had been belayed in Mexico, where my instructor had belayed me from the top of my climb. The wonderful difference is that top rope climbing doesn’t allow you to faaaaalllllllllll. After that, the fun began. Instead of worrying about falling, my main concern was how to top the climbs.

This article was originally published in the Asian Wall Street Journal.