An American in Asia: His Quest for Cosmic Truth (or at least a Decent Espresso)

 

In the latest ridiculous bit of Thai news, prime minister Thaksin has complained that his opponents are using black magic on him.

However he's not taking the cosmic assault without a psychic fight. He was quoted in the Bangkok Post (11 March 2006), saying, "Don't worry, I have talismans and various Buddha amulets with me to ward off their magic."

According to The Nation, the PM's supporters are lending their vibes. "The PM's Office Minister Newin Chidchob, who is from Buri Ram - Thailand's black magic heartland - has developed a special recipe to help Thaksin through the crisis. The spell is said to have been carried out while Thaksin was riding on an elephant's neck."

While it might be OK if the leader of a nation wants to be paranoid and superstitious - it's probably even common - but ranting about black magic to the international press is a good sign things are falling apart.

Crowded Beaches Without the Crowds

I made a few trips up to Phuket's best-known beach of Patong this past week to do some banking. I don't ever go there to swim, but there's good banking to be had. After I finished I took a quick stroll down to the beach to see how tourism was doing. The good news is the stinking seaweed is gone. It had infested Patong a couple weeks ago, feeding on organic material dumped into the bay by irresponsible hotels.

My curiosity was piqued enough to stroll down to the beach by a recent story in the Phuket Gazette about the disordered state of the beach chairs. The vendors had laid in an extra layer of chairs, claiming there weren't enough seats for all the big tourist asses. However opinions from those who weren't making any money off beach-goers argued that the hoards of beach chairs blocked tsunami evacuation routes and were just plain ugly. I took a few photos and I guess readers can decide for themselves.

For my part, with so many cleaner, clearer beaches available on the island, there is not a chance in heck I'd bother with Patong beach. Personally I like to lay a blanket on the sand but the beach chair mafia has made sure there is not a square metre available for that. No money to be made from those nature-lovers who like to feel the sand between their cheeks.

The town does have a good range of banks and ATM's so I took care of business and, after a quick Starbuck's stop, I headed back to my neighbourhood, picked up my snorkeling gear and made my way to a secluded cove near Nai Harn Beach.

Squishy and invisible with stinging tentacles: can jellyfish get any grosser?

It was already stinking hot by noon so, when I got to the beach I strapped on the snorkel and hit the water immediately. Sitting in the shallows I pulled on my fins. I use a pair of Force Fins that I ordered from the US. They're shaped exactly like big blue duck feet and they're great for divers who want to play around a bit. Very manoeuvrable and great for swimming with a dolphin kick, where you flop through the water kicking both feet at the same time - a good way to conserve oxygen and stay under longer.

Fins on, I took a breath and swam along the bottom, just over the corals, until I reached deeper water. There I turned upwards, spun in a circle to check for boats, buoys or other obstacles, and floated to the surface. This beach is always clear of boats, but it's a good habit to take a look around before poking your head out of the water.

Immediately I noticed a lot of gunk floating around on the high tide. A breath or two later I noticed that a lot of the gunk was flopping around, looking for someone to sting. I was in a swarm of jellyfish.

I hate jellyfish. Not all of them sting, but I hate all of them anyway. Jellyfish are the second-yuckiest things in the world, next to a mouthful of spiders. I will admit that they can be stunningly beautiful when behind glass or through a video camera (one that's being operated by someone who is not me). These jellyfish, however, were getting in my face.

Each was no larger than my fist, completely transparent and cube-shaped, with a single short tendril hanging from each corner of its open end. There is a deadly jellyfish, called a Box Jellyfish or Sea Wasp, that is also cube-shaped but I guess these weren't them since I'm still alive.

Deadly or not, I do hate being stung by jellyfish. The stings are more annoying than painful, but who likes to be annoyed? And I really dislike the fact that being stung means that an undulating blob of jelly has just brushed against my skin and, despite its size, was trying its best to kill and eat me.

There were dozens of the things in my field of vision and spinning, I saw they were all around me. I was wearing a lycra dive shirt and long shorts, but my arms, calves and face were exposed. I hadn't been stung yet and maybe they weren't even the stinging kind. I didn't know and I wasn't about to find out.

From what I've seen in the past, they tend to hang around close to the surface, so I took a deep breath and headed for the bottom. I kicked my way towards shore and didn't surface until the water was knee-deep. Whipping off my fins I stomped up the sand. There was no one nearby to appreciate my sincere disgust when I said, "Yuck!" but I said it aloud anyway and added a big shudder that went from the top of my head, down my spine and out the soles of my feet.

Out in the small bay I could see a couple of other snorkellers and three divers ready to go under. They were braver than I. Or maybe I'm a wimp. More spineless than a jellyfish. They eat them in salads in Japan.

Squids: not quite as gross

I was really looking forward to a good, long swim, so I hopped in the truck and drove to the other side of Nai Harn bay, hoping the whole thing wasn't filled with jellyfish. It was high-tide after a night of rain, so they were probably there dining on organic material washed off the hillsides.

The water was clear of the squishy vermin at Yanui Beach so I spent an hour or so paddling around the rather less beautiful reef there. There were quite a few fish, including a school of baby barracuda.

At one point I noticed that an odd-looking rock had a lot more tentacles than rocks usually do. I dove four or five metres down to get a closer look. It was dark brown, about twice the size of my hand with a flat, arrow-shaped body, two large eyes and a small bundle of tentacles at the blunt end.

After a few seconds, it realised I was wise to its disguise and shot off. In a flash it took on the colour of the sandy bottom. Curiously it would have been completely invisible except that it chose to sport a lightning-blue racing stripe clearly outlining it's body. I wonder what kind of defence is that? Does it want to be camouflaged or not?

I followed it around for a while, fanning water at it to make it move across different coloured backgrounds so I could watch it change. It was really fascinating to witness the obvious intelligence of the creature and how rapidly and completely it could imitate any colour and texture.

Eventually I got out of the water as I was still thinking about the jellyfish and the barracuda were creeping me out. I knew what they were thinking when they looked back at me: "When I grow up, I want to eat me one of him!"

The sea is very beautiful, but it's also full of things that want to eat you.