Moments which Take your Breath Away

The Phi Phi Islands

by SinhaRaja Thammitta Delgoda

Limestone mountains climb out of the sea. Rearing up suddenly before us, great ridges slope down into the water. Their sides are crusted with clinging trees and bushes, their cliffs riddled with caves and gushing streams. Lying between the island of Phuket and the western coast of Thailand, these are the Phi Phi Islands.

Easing down, the speedboat glides round the rocky peaks. Skimming through openings we had not seen, it emerges into the sheltered bays and hidden coves of Koh Phi Phi Ley. There are many boats and many people, yet the sound of birds is in our ears. There is also another sound, the noise of rushing water. Pouring down the mountainside in streams of sparkling silver, it falls into the sea. In the distance we could see caverns opening, tunnels running into the mountainside. In one corner, a sliver of sand curves round the corner of the bay.

On the way out I had found myself near the prow. Finding an empty space I sat and mused, trying not to dream. Another passenger beamed at me. I felt self-conscious.

“Do you mind if I sit here and talk to myself,” I asked.”Not at all,” she said, “I hope you get good answers.”

Her name was Brenda Waterbury, a teacher from Canada. She and her friends would meet every evening, to watch sunset on the top most deck. Her friend Wendy was lugging a large mysterious bag, which she had brought on board. “What on earth is she carrying,” I wondered politely to myself, ” and why on earth is she carrying it here.” It turned out that she had the only flippers in the group. I watched in envy as she swam effortlessly across the bay, beneath the shadow of the looming rock.

In places the water is dark and blue, shaded by the towering cliffs. Elsewhere it is green with the shadow of the trees; clear and light in places where the sun shines through. There are no waves here, just a deep and languid swell. Beneath our feet were massive domes and moulds like brains, huge blooming flowers and sprouting cabbage leaves. Darting between them were moving forms, bursts of colour, stripes and spots, Parrotfish, Angel Fish and Butterfly Fish, Wrasses and Groupers.

North of Phi Phi, is Koh Mai Phai. In Thai, it is Bamboo Island. Here there are no looming limestone crags, just white sand and a lapping turquoise calm. Nature here is less dramatic; softer and more gentle. The water here is not so clear, shallow and full of sand. It is also full of boats and people.

Swimming out, the spell began to fade. All I could see was a murky haze. The floor was littered with coral pieces, some were broken, others were bleached and lifeless. Swimming out further I passed the throng. The water here was deeper. All of a sudden, there was a flurry of activity. Two large fish loomed out of the sandy blur, they were feeding or trying to feed. Snapping in gulping movements, they were pecking at another fish. Surrounding them were swarms of smaller fish. Nipping and tearing in furious rushes, they fought back in numbers, holding the larger fish at bay. It was the first fight I had ever seen underwater. A glimpse of magic, a world of make believe. It seems only to exist in films and documentaries but there it was in front of us: a moment which we could reach out and touch. All of a sudden we were there, we were a part of it and it was part of us.

Crowding back into the boat, we clustered near the bows. As the bow lifted out of the water, we thrilled to the glow of speed, the sheer romance of rushing towards the sunset. The speedboat was a torpedo, cutting through the water like a streak of light. When we looked to see, we saw that we were travelling along a carefully defined path, along a channel marked in the sea.

They were other boats too, all travelling home along different paths. Trundling fishing boats, wide, wallowing catamarans and long tailed boats with curving fan shape prows, which swayed from side to side. In the distance the islands glowed and smouldered, aflame with falling light.

Flying back through the setting sun, Brenda recalled these words.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments which take your breath away.”