Isle be Back
Why a trip to Koh Yao Yai, a charmingly sedentary island just east of tourist magnet Phuket, is like journeying into the past (and not a visit by Arnold Schwarzenegger)
It only takes a short boat ride from the normally packed piers of Phuket to reach the largest island in the Koh Yao archipelago, but you may as well be going back in time.
Whereas in recent decades Phuket has become an overdeveloped destination for mass market, often destructive tourism (I should know, I lived there for five years), with all the tawdry nightlife, environmental degradation, and souvenir shops that entails, Koh Yao Yai (almost a third the size of its more famous neighbor, the island is only home to 8,000 people compared to the 600,000 just across the water, plus hundreds of thousands of tourists a year) has defiantly remained a sleepy backwater, and is all the better for it.
We reached the island on a boat from Phuket's Ao Po Grand Marina, headed to Koh Yao Yai Village, where we had booked in for a long weekend getaway. The comfortable vessel can easily seat 20 – you can choose to sit in the cabin, on the covered back, or take in the views from up top – but we fortunately had the boat all to our little family. They also have a smaller but no less comfortable one, with which they alternate trips.
As we embarked on a gentle half hour cruise on completely flat azure seas, it was a serene scene, at least it would have been if not for my visiting Canadian mother-in-law, who snapped photo after photo of the famous limestone outcrops of Phang Nga Bay. To be fair, she was a long, long way from her home in snowy Alberta, where the temperatures were a bone-chilling -20 degrees centigrade. Eventually though, the only sound was that of the engines, as we watched Phuket fade away into the distance.
Our destination was Klong Hia, one of the two main piers on Koh Yao Yai, which sits in a sheltered bay hugging the north shore of the island, and facing its more-developed but smaller sister isle Koh Yao Noi (it means small long island, 'yai' being the Thai word for big). Hotel guests are met here by the Koh Yao Yai Village's own brightly painted po tong, or open-backed bus, the main type of public transport in the region.
As we sat in the back, faces buffeted by the breeze, bouncing along the concrete road, girls in colorful headdress (the island is overwhelmingly Muslim) waved from passing motorbikes, while little children peeked out from doorways, curious about these new arrivals on their home. After a short 10 minutes or so of enjoying the scenery, our driver turned off the main road (there is really only one on the island, running north to south) and down a smaller track sheltered by the foliage of rubber and coconut trees.
We passed a small rice paddy and a couple of dozing water buffalo, before coming to a stop next to the open air 'lobby' of the Koh Yao Yai Village resort, in reality a series of wooden platforms housing the activities desk, gift shop, library and reception – it's like entering a ground-level Ewok village, but without furry denizens (unless you count the odd cat wandering about). Sipping on a welcome chilled roselle water, as staff take care of your check-in, you catch a glimpse of the Andaman Sea in the near distance.
Like much of Phang Nga province, the east side of Koh Yao Yai is extremely tidal, with sea levels that can vary by up to 3 metres in height. It means that, depending on the time of day you head to the beach, you could be swimming just off your beach chair, or will need to make a long trek out to reach the waves (and even then, you'll probably be walking in waist high water). Catering to a mix of honeymooners and families, the Koh Yao Yai Village resort has a variety of accommodation – with our two young ones and the mother-in-law in tow, we had booked one of the spacious family villas located up on the hillside, in the middle of what once had been coconut and rubber plantations.
A small fleet of electric golf carts are on hand to shuttle lazy or laden guests around the property – a good thing too, as it's initially easy to get lost on the many pathways that crisscross the forest. After getting changed, we called for one to take us down to the infinity pool for a leisurely afternoon swim, before stretching our legs later that evening by instead strolling over to the resort's Kayee restaurant for a seafood dinner.
The next day we'd signed up for the Village Tour, a 5 hour exploration of the island by po tong. My son, just 1.5 at the time, was particularly excited about taking the “bus”, and had clambered up into the back before the driver had even arrived, insisting we should “go, go!” Luckily for us, our guide arrived shortly afterward, and we were off.
With a beaming smile, Mr Yob was quick to introduce himself and begin the tour. As it turns out, his grandfather used to own the coastal land the resort was built on, and as a child he had roamed the shore, helping collect coconuts for sale. His connection to the land was such that after the hotel had been constructed, he went to the general manager and asked for a job. With his friendly demeanor and superb local knowledge, we couldn't have asked for a better guide, and he seemed to know everyone we passed.
Our first stop was at a small wooden house on stilts – most of the island's homes are built in the traditional Thai style, living quarters raised above a storage area where animals are commonly kept – tucked away down a small side road. As we clambered off the po tong, the first thing we noticed was the scent of sweet coconut in the air.
Climbing up to the house via a set of small steps, we entered a small room occupied by three women sat on the floor, involved in what appeared to be a small assembly line – one lady heating small, circular mixes of coconut, water and sugar, the next spooning them out of the metal mould and placing them to cool, and the last wrapping them in plastic before bagging them up in bundles. These desserts, we were told, were hugely popular in Phuket, so much so the three ladies made on average 2,000 pieces per day.
After purchasing a few bags of these fantastic treats, we boarded the bus and headed for the south coast, and one of the island's few white sand beaches - as Koh Yao Yai is sheltered on three sides (the west, north and east) by Phuket, Phang-Nga and Krabi provinces, most of the shore is mangrove. Our first sight of the sand came through a hotel resort. This, we were told, had been built by a Taiwanese investor, and a sign that Koh Yao Yai is slowly (and disappointingly), appearing on the radar of global tourism.
However, as Yob told us, the islanders are adamant that they don't want to see the kind of over development that has already blighted Phuket. Their traditional way of life is important to them, and the local authorities have been cautious in attracting too many tourists. So far, they seem to be striking the right balance. We watched as the car ferry departed from the adjacent Loh Jark Pier, headed to Jian Warnet Pier close to Ratsada Port in Phuket. Indeed, that island’s residents can simply load up their cars and 'drive' to Koh Yao Yai, although they do need to remember that there are only two boats each way daily, so if they miss them they're staying away for one more night than expected.
After a short stop to try some dried fish, which were laid out on a multitude of blue sheets stretching all across a field (word of warning, rip off the head and tail before eating), our driver next stopped in the middle of a rubber plantation so we could see up close how the sap is taken. Tappers have to wait for about eight years before a rubber tree is ready to be harvested, but after that it will be productive for at least a quarter century. Thailand, along with Malaysia and Indonesia, is one of the world's largest suppliers of natural rubber, and locally it remains big business – though tourism is gradually supplanting it. It was a real reminder of just how rural this island remains.
After a packed morning schedule, it was about time for lunch. Yob knew just the place, and 15 minutes later we were at a small roadside restaurant run by his friend, sitting down to a meal of steamed fish, sticky rice, and morning glory – so fresh it had been plucked in the garden just minutes before. Only a 5 minute drive from the resort, we were told many guests come here in the evening for cooking classes with the friendly chef and owner, as well as to enjoy the simple, but delicious home cooking. Having just finished our excellent lunch, we were surprised when Yob suggested we might want lobster – turns out he meant that our next stop was an offshore lobster farm.
In the sheltered waters between the twin islands of Koh Yao Yai and Koh Yao Noi are anchored a group of tin roof huts resting on tethered bamboo rafts. A boatman with a huge afro hair-do, who Yob said was nicknamed 'Bob' after the reggae great, ferried us a few hundred meters offshore to the largest of the group. As we pulled close, a small, smiling man emerged from his simple dwelling to give us a tour of his floating home.
His 'garden' consists of a series of nets split by bamboo poles, which each housed a variety of fish including grouper, starfish, and huge, valuable lobsters. Grabbing the net closest to us, he quickly pulled it in and out of the murky gloom emerged a long tail at the end of a spotted body – a leopard shark. Apparently, the fisherman keeps several of the animals as 'pets', the predators acting as guard dogs to warn off those tempted to steal his precious catch while he sleeps. It was all like Waterworld, without a pony-tailed clad Kevin Costner patrolling the area on jetski. And then it was time to head back to the resort, via a quick photo-op with several coconut-picking monkeys, and waving goodbye to the smiling islanders, blessed with their own little paradise.
It may seem quiet and underpopulated, but there's an awful lot to see on Koh Yao Yai, as we discovered. All told, it's like Phuket used to be - and long may it stay that way.
Thanks Simon, maybe it will get spoiled, maybe it won't but if only it would freeze frame in time to your visit.
What an absolutely wonderful piece, Simon. Thank you.