Photo: Magical Thailand...

"....and so, I had to eat my brother." His last line caught my attention and jerked me from my inattentive, alcohol induced indifference and I looked at him. He was wild and a long time unshaven. We had met many solo around the world sailors during our own long voyage and they were universally the same. Invariably colourful, individual characters who were desperate for someone to talk to, to tell you of the latest wild storm or shipwreck they'd survived, a blow by blow account that could go on for hours. Like other sailboat cruisers we tended to avoid them.

I looked down to the floor for his dog. There was always a dog. It was equally bedraggled and lay fast asleep, spread out around the bar stool and probably had been for hours. I'd heard tell that lone sailors and their lone dogs looked and acted alike. I also knew why this particular solo sailor had dropped anchor here in Ao Chalong, Thailand. He was like all the rest that had been here before him. Soon, the dog would be gone. In the dog's place would be a young Thai girl or even a Thai bride. We'd met many of these cruising 'couples' during our travels and some had become our great friends. I could never find out what happened to the dogs.

I didn't find out why he'd had to gorge on his brother either. When I reverted my gaze back the guy was out like a light, unconscious with his head on the bar in the same spreadeagled manner as his canine companion at his feet. I guessed they were both drunk. The evening was getting dark and the numerous girls were starting to gather outside the bar, accosting passing strangers who were all, invariably, cruising crew of some description. They were here because Ao Chalong was the easiest access into magical Thailand for sailing boats, that is, until you met the little bastard in Customs & Immigration, who was as sly and corrupt as any official we'd ever come across. Those of you who have checked in to Thailand through Ao Chalong Immigration will know who I mean.

I hung around a short while to see if the old solo sailor would wake up to continue his tale. I was intrigued to learn why he'd turned cannibal and eaten his brother although, having heard the tale before, I knew full well it was an embellished story told to shock and impress. But I'd also heard rumours and strange whispers of a yacht shipwreck in the mysterious Nicobar Islands a few years ago when... after another beer I stood up and walked to the door. As we left I noticed a young girl slide on to my stool and try to revive the old guy from his stupor. Neither him or his dog stirred.

The night heat was good and the neon lights lit up the street like a beacon, probably visible from space I thought. Music from the numerous dim red bars added a systematic beat to the incredible evening atmosphere. Because I was with Marie, the girls left me alone, until, that is, she dawdled to look into a shop window and a gap of a few yards opened up between us. They closed in swiftly, ready to pounce but retreated when Marie, realising her mistake, staked her claim to her skipper mate and re-established her rightful ownership. One of them admired Marie's dress and shoes and they both struck an instant friendship laughing and giggling. Only women have that incredible skill. The petite street girls forgot I was there and they each tried on Marie's little coloured shoes, the ones she'd bought in Sri Lanka...

Magical, incredible Thailand.
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