"Piman Pu" - day 1 - just jungle
SIAM SEA CHANGE
PART I © Andrew Truswell
1 Google Earth – January 2006
I start to write this book sitting on the beach at Koh Pu in the rainy season. I’ve decided to build a house on the beach in Thailand. I don’t speak any Thai, and I have no experience as a builder. I am a British/Australian citizen, and can never live in Thailand permanently. I can never own land outright as a foreigner. I make the decision to build in Thailand knowing these things.
I want to write this experience down, because I can already see that it is going to show me things I’ve never seen before.
So how did I come to be sitting here on the beach in the sun, looking out over the Andaman Sea to Phi Phi island?
I have been coming to Thailand at least every year since about 1990. I have grown to love the country, the people, the food and the beauty of the coast and islands in particular.
This is the place where I have felt most able to relax. This really hit me when I turned 40 on Koh Samet, one night after dinner sitting by the sea on a warm evening. Sitting under the stars in the warm evening breeze and hearing the gentle lapping of the sea after a great spicy Thai meal is certainly a combination of sensory pleasure conducive to relaxation.
My work allows me to travel. Which is great, but most of the time that travel is to big cities. The travel is still fun, but it is rarely relaxing. I am less interested in cities the more I see them. If you live in one city – the experience is much like another city.
The pace of life in cities is faster and the people are harder and (possibly) less trustworthy, as the community is more fragmented. In towns it is less so. In tourist areas, with their cafes, pirate DVD shops, tour touters and nightlife, it isn’t necessarily better. In the quiet ‘hard to reach’ places, life is still special. The trade-off is less modernity, less access to technology, thereby less access to information. But life in these quiet places can be wonderful and is often less generic with less mass-produced materialism and consumerism. The food and water are fresh. The air is clean. The pace of life is forced to be slow. So, the people are relaxed. The places I’m talking about are like Koh Pu, which is not really on the map. It is marked on the Krabi tourist maps, but is so far, not a destination. Although, developments such as power were coming to the island. When I started writing the story, there was no mains power and no internet connection.
An idea started to grow in my head, that it would be great to see if it was possible to still find a quiet unspoilt place to come and relax. Ever since I was a student I dreamed of building my own house. My dream always involved my own design. There’s something magical about a house on the beach. My grand-parents had built a beach house where I spent holidays as a child. I had later taken a ¼ share in a beach house in Australia, but had a falling out with one of the co-owners. The beach house has a special place in my dream space.
If I hadn’t studied Law, I would have studied Architecture. I am interested in the way human beings relate to the space they inhabit and how that is realised differently in different parts of the world and in different climates and often as a result of those different climates. For example, most buildings in Sydney or San Francisco are solid brick or timber to insulate against a winter albeit a mild one. On the Andaman coast, houses have walls of single thickness of bamboo grass or wood (more recently concrete – regrettably due to the high cost of timber), they often have only cold water often from tanks or cisterns and often not piped, and often where electricity is obtained from generators or solar power, and no glass in the windows so as to maximise air flow.
So – life is short – why not give my dream a shot?
This is where Google Earth comes in.
It is not completely by chance that I ended up on Koh Pu. My search started with an Atlas of Thailand bought in Bangkok. I was looking for beautiful unspoilt beach-front land that was accessible within reasonable distance from an airport. The land had to be absolutely on the beach, had to be affordable, and had to be quiet and unspoilt, with a good prospect of remaining so. It had to be accessible from a regional airport all year round, without too much driving and sea crossing.
I looked at the islands on the Cambodian side of the Gulf Coast first, but these seemed to be quite developed already or too remote. I looked at Hua Hin, but although close to Bangkok, I was told was not so good for swimming year round. I looked at Ranong – but it didn’t seem to have too many beaches, and I looked at the area around Surat Thani including further north in Chumpon province. Chumpon is very beautiful, but is not currently served by a commercial airport. I considered Phuket, but it is too busy, with its Go Go bars and 5 star palaces. Then I thought about Krabi province.
I bought the lonely planet book on Thailand’s beaches. There was some information about Railay, Ao Thalen, Ao Nang, and Koh Lanta. Koh Pu had a very brief reference. It said Koh Pu was a very quiet spot with a few bungalows, where you may want to stop for a night on the way to Koh Lanta, but facilities were basic and it closed down during rainy season. It was suggesting that Koh Pu was a little ‘too’ quiet. The internet had some websites for some bungalow resorts. Sounded interesting to me.
I then looked on Google Earth. As if in a low flying plane I searched from my Sydney apartment. I could see the airport and the town. I could see Railay and Ao Nang. I could see Koh Lanta. And between Krabi and Koh Lanta, there was Koh Pu. It looked like a great spot, I could see the mountain Toh Seh Phu Kaow. It was not too far from Krabi airport. It had a good long beach facing to the Andaman Sea. It was close to Phi Phi. It looked pretty much undeveloped. Google Earth is so sharp that you can see the roads and buildings, and there were none to speak of on Koh Pu.
I printed the maps of Koh Pu from Google Earth to take to Thailand. I also looked up some basic first questions about Thai land law. The different types of title, and the way land is described in ‘rai’ – the basic unit of measurement, being 1,600m2.
So I bought a plane ticket to Krabi. I was in Malaysia for work. I though I would give myself ten days to try to find some land, possibly on the beach on Koh Pu.
2 Nan
I flew into Krabi from Singapore about one year after the devastating Boxing Day Tsunami. It was a tourist flight in January – the high season. I could see construction was well underway for a new Krabi international terminal. At that time the old terminal building was the only one in use. So, despite the Tsunami, construction and development in Krabi province was still continuing.
I had booked myself into a small bungalow resort on Railay West. Railay West has the sandy beach and the sunsets. I took a longtail from the Laem Pho pier. I was amazed by the beauty of the limestone bluffs spectaculary thrusting from the water on the short ride to Railay. Railay is on the mainland, but because of its impressive topography, is only accessible by boat.
Railay Beach West
The previous year I had visited Vietnam. If it were possible to buy land in Vietnam I would have been interested, but it seemed that the Vietnamese government throws up more roadblocks than the Thai administration, but more of that later. In my trip to Vietnam I had spent a night on a junk cruising around Ha Long Bay. Ha Long Bay is very beautiful, but after the end of my first fleeting visit, I felt that Krabi province surpasses even the beauty of Ha Long. There are three places in the world where tropical water meets limestone bluffs or karsts as they are known in Thailand. One is in China, one is Ha Long in Vietnam, and the third is Krabi province. The last of these is different to Ha Long in that the karsts are scattered less regularly and interspersed with mangroves, jungle covered mountains, coral reefs, river estuaries and sandy beaches.
In the previous year I had also visited Pattaya. I had been told that Pattaya was once very beautiful. If that is true, it is sad to see it now. So many buildings with no aesthetic appeal, so much concrete, dirty sand, go-go bars, trashy tourist shops crammed together, noise and grime.
Krabi is blessed with natural beauty. The islands dotting the sea are spectacular above land and in the coral reefs below. The islands a mere 20 minutes from Ao Nang (Ko Poda and Ko More) give a very accessible and fast impression of the beauty of this province. There is a famous spit of sand connecting two islands in this group which is particularly beautiful – it is in every post card shop – called ‘miracle beach’.
Ao Maya at Koh Phi Phi Le (where the Leonardo di Caprio movie “The Beach” was filmed) is stunning despite the numbers of visitors it receives each day. But there are many islands much quieter and with their own charm, and many long-tail boatmen who would he happy to show you.
I only hope that the onslaught of tourism and the pace of construction does not destroy the fragile balance that is still evident in many parts of Krabi province.
I was dropped from the longtail at Railay East. I figured out that I had to cross the narrow isthmus to reach Railay West. It was faster to cross this narrow strip of sand on foot than for the boat to come around the headland. Lumbering a large backpack (the Thais would never carry half the stuff westerners consider essential), I found the resort half way up the beach. It was very hot in the mid-day sun. I felt like a dip in the sea. My bungalow wasn’t ready, so I sat for half an hour waiting. When I finally got settled and looked around, I found the place to be quite crowded with tourists from all over the world – Europe – Asia – America. The bungalows were packed a little too close for my liking. I got to the beach. It was as beautiful as the guidebook had described. Vast natural cliffs at each end of the beach. Islands visible offshore. The longtail boats parked on the sand with coloured cloth on their timber prows, the beautiful green-turquoise water.
As afternoon grew towards evening, the Thais working on the beach got together for a game of soccer. I watched them. They seemed pretty serious in their game.
After dinner, I walked back to Railay East. As the guidebook had explained, this is where the bars are. I went to the first bar that seemed to have a good atmosphere. The guys were starting a fire for a barbeque. The bar was also a cliff climbing business. I asked one of the guys if he knew anyone selling land. I was told to ask for Nan at the ‘Gecko Bar’ at the far end of the beach.
I found the Gecko Bar, a Bob Marley reggae bar. The music was playing, but no Nan.
I had a drink somewhere else, and came back an hour or so later. I met Nan. He had long dreadlocks and a beard. He was wearing a big loose rasta shirt. His English was pretty good and he was friendly.
He said he had some land for sale on the beach on Koh Pu. He showed me where his land was on the map I had brought from Google Earth. It was at the far end of the beach facing south-west. The part of the island closest to Krabi, and furthest from Koh Lanta. I was interested. He said the land was about 7-8 rai, with 40 metre beachfront. The land was about 460 metres deep, so long and relatively thin.
He said there was enough land for a resort with bungalows. I said I was only looking for land to build a beach house and that I really didn’t want that much land. We started talking about sub-dividing. There was no way he would have sold me the land at the front and retained the back. But he said he would consider splitting the land in half down the middle, so each piece would end up with 20 metre beachfront, but still run the full 460 metre length.
It was a very good first conversation. The land was coincidentally exactly where I had been surfing on Google Earth a month or so earlier. It was about the right size, although I really only needed one or two rai, but it was relatively affordable. I told Nan that I had appointments with Real Estate agents on Ao Nang in 2 days time. We agreed to take a speedboat to Koh Pu the following day.
That morning I took a longtail to the closest islands off shore. The colour of the water, and the views back to the Railay peninsula captivated me.
On the way across to Koh Pu Nan told me why he was selling. He had suffered financially after the drop in tourist numbers in the year following the Tsunami. The Tsunami had brought death and destruction to Thailand and other parts of South-East Asia, especially Ache in Indonesia, but this had been made worse by the fall in tourism. Tourists had abandoned places like Railay and Koh Phi Phi in favour of the ‘safety’ of Koh Samui and Koh Samet on the gulf side of Thailand. As a result, small business owners like Nan had suffered in a huge drop in their revenues. In Nan’s case, his landlord had not reduced the rent, so Nan had ‘gone into the red’ in a pretty big way through no fault of his own. It struck me that he didn’t really want to sell his land. Sub-dividing it would allow him to keep a toe hold on Koh Pu and also clear his debts.
Nan told me he was originally from Nakhon Si Thammarat, where the stupa from the great Wat Mahathat (later copied in Sukhothai, Si Satchanalai and Ayutthaya) casts no shadow.
The speedboat came right into the beach. The beach was beautiful with golden sand and a few black rocks. The tide was high. Towering above the beach to the right was the mountain. Big and green and conical in shape. On the beach a stream was emptying clear fresh rain water out to sea.
Nan pointed out where his land was. We worked out where the 40 metres started and stopped. There were a few markers on the land. It was pretty overgrown. We bashed through the jungle for about 20 minutes to reach the back of the block. It was good land slowly rising in height away from the beach, but not like the mountain side blocks further down the beach.
This north-western end of the beach was hit by the Tsunami, but less so than further down where the beach turns to face west. It had been protected somewhat by the headland.
After thoroughly looking over the land, we took bikes to the local Muslim fishing village, Baan Koh Pu. He chatted to some people. Everyone seemed to know him. We bought a lot of fish and squid to eat that night back at Railay.
The island has two names. This is due to the two fishing villages on the island. Koh Pu to the north, and the larger Koh Jum to the south, each with its pier and connected by a dirt road of about 7 kilometres.
I spoke with the manager of a small low key resort “Bonhomie” a hundred metres or so down the beach. I said I would like a bungalow for a few days 2 days later. I wanted to come back to Koh Pu to relax, whatever happened with Nan’s land.
I told him I was interested. He told me he had papers for the land, but the price was not negotiable. We got back on the speedboat to Railay, both of us were happy in our own thoughts.
3 Por Bor Tor Ha
Thoughts of that beautiful beach-front land filled my head the next morning.
I got a longtail boat to take me to Ao Nang. The next day I met the Real Estate agent, an American ex-pat, who said he had no beachfront land, but could show me some land at Ao Thalen with sea views, but it was smaller and more expensive. Ao Thalen is a quiet spot favoured by kayakers.
I told him about the land on Koh Pu. He said the price was good, but wondered if the title was registrable. The weakest form of registrable land is Sor Por Gor or Nor Sor Sam Gor, and the best is Chanote. I got worried.
Of course foreigners cannot own land in Thailand, only condominiums, and there are many horror stories of foreigners buying land in the name of Thai friends only to find their former friends disowning them and keeping the land for themselves.
I knew this, but didn’t want a condo in a place like Jomtien Beach in Pattaya. My dream was a house on land right on the beach. I have a Thai friend in Sydney, Will, born in Lampang, who had agreed to be the legal owner, sign a trust deed in my favour granting me beneficial ownership, and if the land title were upgraded a long term 30+30+30 registered lease.
The Real Estate agent confirmed that a lease could be registered (provided the title was registrable) for anything from 3 to 30 years. So in the case of a 30+30+30 lease you would need to re-register each renewal.
I called Nan whilst I was sitting at the Real Estate agent’s office. I asked him if the title was Nor Sor Sam Gor. He said ‘no’. It was Por Bor Tor Ha. I asked the Real Estate agent if this was OK. The Real Estate agent said it was not good title. It could not be registered. He warned that he generally advised foreigners not to deal in such weak title.
Nan came to meet me an hour or so later at Ao Nang to talk about the land title problem. He was worried he might lose the sale. He said there was no Nor Sor Sam Gor title on Koh Pu. The whole island was not developed and the title was still effectively village title, where the King had many years previously granted certain rights to the village chief to develop the land for growing food. This land has later been traded, but is not registered – so it is technically not able to be bought and sold.
I said I had to think about it some more. I started to get cold feet and worry that I might pay a large amount of money and lose it with no right to recover it back.
I really wanted the land, but was struggling to find a safe way through the technical legal issues.
Nan said that the title was in the process of being upgraded. He said he would talk with the local government official responsible for Koh Pu to see if we could meet up later that afternoon.
The next morning I visited another real estate agent in Krabi town. This agent was Thai and couldn’t speak any English, but his daughter translated for us in broken English. He had no land comparable to Nan’s land on Koh Pu. He had a piece of land on an island in Pang Nga province which was smaller and had a road running in front of the land between the land and the sea. This was also more expensive. I said I would contact him again if I wanted to see it. I didn’t want to be woken up by the sound of motor bikes buzzing past my house. The land at Koh Pu was so special, because it was so quiet. No road in front.
Later I met Nan at a coffee shop in Krabi town. The local government official joined us. He told me that the title would be upgraded at some point, perhaps within 12 months. We started drinking beer. We then went for a big seafood dinner by the Krabi river, where I met the Koh Pu village chief as well. ‘Pu’ is Thai for crab, so appropriately, we ate a lot of crab that night. Too much as it would turn out – for me at any rate.
The next morning I went to the market in Krabi town, bought a whole lot of fresh food and took the public ferry destined for Koh Lanta. To get to Koh Pu, you inform the ferry hand to stop at Koh Pu – about 40 minutes by fast sea ferry from Krabi. You are met by longtail boats who take you in to the beach. It is a splendid way to arrive. Most of the backpackers keep going to Koh Lanta.
I started to feel unwell from the crab the night before. Pretty much as soon as I got to Koh Pu I started to get a fever. I went to sleep that afternoon under a mosquito net. I kept the bungalow windows (without glass) open, and was woken up when a monkey came in. We both scared each other. During my rest in the bungalow I started to think about how we could move forward.
Nan arrived the next day to talk some more. He brought fish from the Koh Pu village for a barbeque. I sat with him but ate nothing still feeling unwell.
I suggested we split his land in 2, so each piece had 20 metre beach front. We then stagger the purchase price payment.
He agreed to let me draw up a contract in English, but governed by local Thai law, where he gave me a 10 year lease and an option to purchase for an agreed price upon the title upgrade coming good. The option would be exercisable by my Thai friend in Sydney, Will, on my behalf. The option period would run for 12 months from the date of the title upgrade. Essentially the contract came down to good faith more than anything else. Neither of us would predict a military coup would put a stop to any title upgrade.
The next day the local village guys came to clear the land so as to allow the surveyor to survey the land for subdivision.
The following day the surveyor came with his theodolite from Krabi to draw up a survey. Nan left with the surveyor that afternoon, and I stayed another day to enjoy the peace and beauty of the beach. A Thai guy living on the beach offered to take me on his boat back to Krabi the following day. Everyone was going to a big party near Krabi the following night.
On the morning of my last day on Koh Pu, I met a German guy, Stefan who had bought land on the beach a few years earlier. He was the owner of the boat I was going to get a ride on. I told him about my proposal and the contract based on trust. He said that he bought his beachfront land 5 years ago on a handshake – twice as much as mine in area for ½ the price. It settled my nerves.
A group of 6 of us went from Koh Pu to Krabi on his boat. It was built from a 27 rib longtail hull (longtails are measured by the number of wooden ribs used in their construction) with a wheel house built over an internal Hino truck engine. 27 ribs is very big for a longtail! It was a spectacular hot and sunny day. As we steamed up the coast I looked back at Mount Pu (Toh Seh Phu Kaow) with a strong feeling everything would turn out ok.
Stefan told me about how nice life was on Koh Pu. He also told me about the monkeys, the snakes and the dogs. He told me that the houses built high on stilts almost all survived the Tsunami – the ones on the ground were swept away if they were in its path.
That afternoon, we collected the survey, and I went to an internet café with a printer and drew up the (first) contract in under an hour. We attached the survey to the contract to illustrate the land in question, and we signed it at a local café in Krabi in the presence of his Swiss wife, Karin, and 6 month old baby SiRaDa that afternoon (the baby didn’t sign).
It seemed the whole of Krabi province came to the party. It was in front of a live band and lots of alcohol was consumed.
I saw Stefan there with his Thai friends, very merry and enjoying themselves.
Nan told all his friends about our transaction, which, by making it public, reassured me further.
Of course I would have been happier with registrable land, but the spot I had found, the resolution of the issues of subdivision in the time I had given myself, made me pretty pleased.
In order to avoid future Tsunami damage any house to be built on the beach at Koh Pu would need to be elevated and well back from the high water mark.
I left Krabi deeply affected by its beauty. The aircraft took off and circled south over Koh Pu, on a clear morning, which looked like a jewel in the Andaman Sea below.
Jan 2006 – © Andrew Truswell
