Turning the Tide
On a trip to the resort area of Khao Lak - north of Phuket - I uncovered the tragic story of the 2004 tsunami, which had been marked forever by two unforgettable memorials
Late 2012 saw the release of The Impossible, a tragic yet ultimately uplifting movie starring Ewan McGregor and Naomi Watts that relived the events of the 2004 Asian Tsunami. It follows the true story of Spanish tourist María Belón and her family, who found themselves holidaying in Khao Lak, just north of Phuket, when the wave hit.
In one memorable scene, a wall of water comes straight at the viewer, as the father (McGregor) frantically tries to get his two young boys to safety. The on-screen wave was of course a CGI creation by a special effects team, but the one that hit the shores of Phuket and Phang Nga provinces on that Boxing Day almost 17 years ago was not.
While damage was widespread, Khao Lak, the resort area a few hours north of Phuket, saw at least 4,000 dead – a number that included locals, tourists and Burmese workers. Today, traces of the damage are long gone, with new resorts having been built on land where flimsy beach huts had been instantly washed away, and replanting programs helping to re-green a devastated coastline that in many places just simply disappeared.
While people have moved on, and the tourism industry is now preparing to boom once more, there are still somber markers of what happened that day. You notice the blue street signposts that point the way for evacuation routes, warning you to get to higher ground, while simple tsunami shelters – plain, concrete buildings raised up on stilts – stand all along the coastal roads, ready in case the impossible should happen again.
There is also another, more startling reminder. On December 26, 2004, the 20 metre long Thai Police Boat 813 was sat at anchor about one nautical mile off the coast of Khao Lak, standing by in case called upon to protect Her Royal Highness Ubonrat Rajakanya Siriwaddhana Phannawaddee, who was staying at a resort with her family.
The power of the tsunami was such that the sizable vessel was easily swept almost two kilometres inland, eventually coming to rest close to the tree line of the jungle. It was then left there, quietly rusting, in a green, empty field to act as a subdued reminder of what had happened, a memorial park with museum and gallery later built around it a decade later. However, it’s not so known that Khao Lak actually has two memorials.
The other is in a small seaside village called Baan Nam Khen, where a wave-shaped tunnel is lined with plaques dedicated to those lost. However, the more moving scene is to be found down by the shore, where local children run and play on the beach and families picnic under the shady trees. It’s a sign that life has once again reclaimed this land from the past, that laughter and happiness came to replace the cries and sorrow.
For some, the events of that day may never be forgotten – and they should not be – but by placing 26 December 2004 within the context of the past, we embrace the future.
Chilling …