With almost 3,000 miles of coastline, as well as large networks of canals, Thailand has a complicated relationship with water. But long before maritime sailing really influenced the country, it was the rivers that were of crucial importance. Just as the Nile has shaped Egypt, so the Chao Phraya was the overall biggest factor in establishing the identity of Thailand. Out of the hills in the north, four rivers flow down into the fertile central plains and meet before proceeding southwards to the capital, a river port in its own right, from where the Chao Phraya makes its short journey to the sea.

You would hardy think it a recipe for a stunning, aquatic culture. The cartography is simple enough, but it’s the history of the river that reflects the multitude of changes that Thailand has gone through since its earliest days. The kingdoms of Siam were linked to the rivers and over the years, moved ever more southwards, as if on some outlandish caravanserai in search of the sea. It was perhaps the subconscious desire of the river captain to reach open waters, but multiplied in thousands of minds.

The Sukhothai kingdom was founded in the thirteenth Century in the north of the country and then the Ayutthaya kingdom, in the south, flourished in Thonburi until the late 1700’s. In 1782 the capital was transferred across the river and Bangkok was founded on the east bank of the river; the name bang makok suggests the small locale that it once was: Place of Olive Plums. Early foreign settlers here found it cosmopolitan and it was soon being called the Venice of the East. However, there was the inevitable downside: infections were easy to come by and the smallest cut, even a slight nick while shaving, could lead to an early burial. Partly to blame was the fact there was always so much water at hand; Bangkok sits on a web of it. At one time it seemed most of the population lived on rafts moored in the rivers. There were even floating brothels, the last closed some 40 years ago.

Urbanization took over and today those plums have long since been squashed by tons of brick, rubble and concrete. Six million people live in Bangkok today: one in ten of the entire population of Thailand. Many canals have been capped and are no longer visible; progress means yet again concrete and tarmac. Yet, the river system still works and is very much alive. Talaat naam or floating markets are still to be found, fruit and vegetables being sold from wood canoes on Bangkok’s immense and Kafkaesque system of canals, waterways and rivers. There are still orchid farms too and the canals are bordered by teak houses, temples and lush greenery. All sorts of boats are visible, not just canoes. On the Chao Phraya itself, there are nippy longtail taxis swooshing in and out of other riverine traffic, the far slower shuttle boats that cross from one bank to the other, and the River Express which makes its way up and down the Chao Phraya, stopping off at the piers on the way. You will also see rice barges – Thailand is the world’s number one rice exporter – and the river taxis that provide an alternative to the clogged main roads of the city. Often they are much faster.

Long before Bangkok became the urban sprawl it is today, other forces were at work. While Siam tended to move south, Europe was looking East, and was gripped by a desire to discover the lands beyond Arabia. In the early 16th Century the Portuguese arrived in Siam, and were the first Europeans on record as doing so. Quickly, other nations followed them and the English, the French, Spanish and Dutch were soon navigating Siam’s waters. The English reached Pattani and set up a trading base there, and found it initially to be far less hazardous than in other places, particularly Bantam, in Indonesia, notorious for its malarial climate. It was written that if you weren’t sick when you arrived in Bantam, then you soon would be. At times, the settlers there had to wait up to two years for the next ship to arrive. It wasn’t the only danger there: the English and Dutch were traditional enemies and fighting wasn’t unknown. Pattani was a less troublesome place, and the base that was established there proved more popular. Settlers were bemused to find, for example, that the women who cleaned their quarters also gave sexual favours – all included in the price. The men, of course, did not hold back, even though venereal disease could kill. There was always someone who would replace them.

Times were chancy, ship owners back in London and Amsterdam wanted good returns on their investments, merchants and adventurers often staked all, and it was from S.E. Asia that the great trading vessels continued on their missions to realms even further to the East. Spices were shipped back from Indonesia, and were so valuable back in Europe or Britain that a couple of bags of nutmeg were a fortune. China and Japan were also of importance, and it was from places like Pattani that ships departed for regions which in those days were genuinely half-fabled: nobody really knew what to expect, least of all those few intrepid adventurers who had established trading posts there. Siam and the Malaya peninsula were the outposts, just about the last known places on the map. This was the edge of the navigational comfort zone, but increasingly it became more comfortable. The hazards of sailing in those days were slightly better than those of playing games of Russian roulette. Once out of port, it wouldn’t be long before the crew began to get sick. Scurvy ravaged ships, and the simple cure – drinking lime juice – had to be discovered, not once, but twice, as this easy remedy was, unbelievably, forgotten for an interim of almost 200 years. Ships arrived with skeleton crew, the gaunt and half-dead survivors of great ships that had left England or Holland filled with healthy men. Why did they do it? They entered a waterworld of dreams, delusions and night sweats. Some made their fortunes, many never lived long enough to do so, but all in one way or other suffered hardships that are incomprehensible.

Today, this part of the world is still seen as exotic, but attracts a different breed of foreign sailor. Gone is the infighting between the Europeans, and apart from the threat of AIDS, towns and ports are healthier places than they were. Some things do not change, however, and in the world of sailing there are types of craft still visible today, that a 16th Century mariner would have recognized – though the engines would be another matter. At sea in the Gulf of Thailand and the Andaman, many sorts of craft are used, and perhaps the most typical is a wooden boat, usually up to 10 metres long. These vessels generally include a roof or awning to protect passengers and crew from the sun, and these days a large engine is also standard.

The basic design however reaches its artistic perfection in the kohr lae, a traditional Muslim fishing vessel, its bright painted hull impossible to miss. Riding along, this is a boat that looks capricious, but is far from being a nautical flibbertigibbet, and at the same time is the finest example of one of the traditional arts of old Siam: boat painting. The motifs are a medley of mythical beings, strange birds and animals that are supposed to bring protection to the owner and passengers. They are often visible on other vessels too, but are more low-key. The designs, incidentally, have migrated to trucks and songthaews and it’s the same thing that is being requested by the driver – protection, in this case from the perils of the road.

Koh Samui is the furthest north you will see these colourful boats, as the Muslim fishing families who came from the Malaysian peninsula traveled no further. They put down their anchors here and decided to stay. At Ban Hua Thanon, you can still catch a glimpse of these boats, but it’s likely that soon they will be as fabled as the animals they depict on their sides, as this is a dying art. Such boats can take months to build and paint; fewer are being produced and there is nowhere to study the art; this is a skill that is passed down through families and generations, and it’s feared that it will soon be consigned to oblivion. Kohr lae are of course very expensive, even the wood being a valuable kind, takien, and such vessels are built by hand.

Other vessels exist that have stood the test of time, but we must turn to the river to see them. As ornate as the kohr lae, but more regal, are the Royal Barges: "We were welcomed by four of them… I have never seen anything comparable since. They were shaped like sea-horses and covered in gold paint, and looked very real as they sailed up from the far distance of the river...” So wrote a Catholic priest in the 18th Century. He was part of a delegation from France and this was one of his first sights of the country. He could not possibly have known the significance of much that he witnessed that day on the river. He no doubt would have recognised that the barges were battle ships. Originally it was far more common for battles to be fought on rivers than at sea. Tradition had it that even in times of peace, ceremonies meant battle formation for the barges. It made sense, for no-one could really be sure that an enemy wouldn’t pick a celebration for a time to attack.

Mention is first made during the Ayutthaya civilization in the middle of the 14th Century of barge processions, and races, too. Apparently it was the custom for the King and Queen to race their separate barges. The outcome was important for everyone: according to the legend, the Queen had to win the race for the year’s harvest to be abundant. Should the King be the winner, then the land would suffer from a wretched harvest. The ceremonial use of the barges was something that the Thai population was used to, but foreigners were completely surprised by the display of beauty, and by the sheer numbers of barges used. It was not uncommon for almost 200 vessels to be used: the sight of so many ships on the river provided an eerie thrill for the early foreigners; many were still under the sad illusion that it was only Europe that was civilized. They expected to see barbarians, and instead were confronted by a great power that was in many cases better versed in manners.

Subanahongsa is the name given to the King of Thailand’s personal barge, and it refers to a mythical being that looks roughly like a swan. The original boat was built over 200 years ago, but was replaced early in the 20th Century. Both craft were made from a single tree trunk. The figurehead on the prow has huge eyes and teeth; from its mouth there hangs a crystal ball, and its neck is garlanded. The barge is painted in gold and mirrored. Merely to see it is to witness something that is memorable and which reflects an age long past of myth and greatness. For the kings of Thailand, sailing didn’t just mean staying on the Chao Phraya and its tributaries. King Rama V was an early royal visitor to the Gulf of Siam, and was particularly fond of Koh Pha-ngan. He once spent a week at anchor here, and altogether visited over a dozen times. His holidaying here was a sign of things to come, and nowadays the entire area has become world famous.

An event takes place on Koh Samui every year that draws in even more holidaymakers: the Regatta. In May, the month when it is held, the winds are particularly stable though not always, and some boats were grounded in 2003. The Regatta is one of the last events on the Asian racing circuit. Perhaps that’s an additional reason why there’s even more of a feel of hedonism to the proceedings. The waters around Koh Samui and the archipelago are normally dependable. Which does not mean to say there are no dangers. In 2004 a shipwrecked fisherman was picked up in the waters between Koh Samui and Koh Pha-ngan; he had been treading water for 48 hours after his boat sank. Other boats fall foul of the system of winds. At times those of us who are landlubbers will wonder why all boating will suddenly decamp to the other side of Koh Samui. That’s because the winds are changing, and what is today’s calm sanctuary will be tomorrow’s mayhem with boats hurled up on the shore, there to be pounded to pieces.

According to locals, there are ghosts amongst the coastlines. One anonymous boatman on Koh Tao told community magazine how the bay just beneath the lighthouse is supposedly haunted by the ghosts. There’s also still supposed to be treasure buried there. No ancient coffers from the 17th Century, but the more modern proceeds of smuggling. He advised me against going ashore to look for it. And what of the future? It has been said that Thailand is now able to build the largest and finest marine leisure facilities in the whole of Asia. Already there is a cornucopia of cruises available, and it’s a beautiful area for diving. Boat building is an important industry here in its own right, with many residents and visitors wanting to buy their own yacht. When all of this is taken into consideration, Thailand is looking at a very profitable market. And once again, as so often, it’s water that takes precedence over the land. This is a yachting paradise, and it’s possible to shelter off coasts, where you will find yourself in wonderful seclusion. Thailand, as ever, looks set to continue its grand amour with sailing and water.

Original article by Samui Community Magazine, Tuesday, 03 May 2005:
Culture Art - Dropping Anchor in Paradise.