Just Yachting

I thought I was the only one in Chau Doc, but after I walked out of the internet cafe I saw other travelers. I wasn't the only one. Not only was I not the only one, but there was a hotel in Chau Doc that charged over $100. I don’t know why anyone would stay there when for only $11 they could get an a/c room overlooking the market which was a constant source of amusement. I watched people put together their makeshift kitchens and then saw restaurants suddenly emerge. I even had HBO - not quite as entertaining as the market. I did end up having a Mai Tai for $5 at this hotel. This was my birthday present after riding the bike through villages surrounded by rice paddies and climbing Sam Mountain. My friend, David, told me it’s an acronym Surface to Air Missile.

    The next morning I went to the bus station and took the worst bus I've taken so far on this trip. One of those buses where I felt filthy before we even left. As a foreigner I paid double for this luxury as the prices were blatantly displayed. Still I was in good spirits. All I had to do was imagine of a couple of my friends sitting on this same bus.

    There were two seats on each side of the aisle, which actually sat three. I was lucky and had a cute young mother and her beautiful, doll like, daughter for seat mates. Everyone had brought their breakfast with them and the scrapes were dumped on the floor along kids' pee because they couldn't wait until we stopped. When we did stop for a toilet break it was another one of these cement platforms in the back of the cafe. There were no walls but, at least, there was a slight incline so you weren't totally splatter when you went. The bottom of my shoes and everyone else became wet. We tracked them back to the bus.

    Arriving at the bus station in Ha Tien was like arriving anywhere, you're immediately met with a dozen of 'se om' drivers (motorcycle taxis). These drivers are not just for the foreigners but for all. Of course, foreigners are a prize because they can charge them more. They are shocked and happy to see me. Who's going to get the prize?

  I fought my way through. I was going to walk across the bridge, I had read about, to the hotel where I wanted to stay. The bridge wasn't there. It collapsed four months ago. I found this out after walking through deep mud. There waiting for me to return was Cuong (same name, different person from up north). He won me over by asking me what I wanted to pay. Yes, he spoke English. He looked like a Vietnamese Tony Bourdain, which as you all know, was another plus.

    I was most definitely the only traveler in Ha Tien that day and most days. Travelers going to Phu Quoc skip Ha Tien (which is off the main road and why I had to take a local bus) to take the speeder boats from Rach Gia.

   Cuong caught up with me later for a motorbike ride. We rode around the countryside to see the cave where the Kymer Rouge slaughtered 130 Vietnamese and to some beautiful pagodas where Budhist monks still lived. Again, he asked me what I wanted to pay. This guy was sharp.

     I enjoyed my afternoon with him and I trusted him, which was what he wanted. He asked me if I had a ticket to Phu Quoc Island. I didn't have a ticket yet, but I booked a reservation (no payment or credit card) from Rach Gia. "You don't need to go all the way to Rach Gia . You can take a hydrofoil from Ba Hon." I didn't believe him, but told him I'd think about it and would tell him tomorrow. In the meantime I asked around and every local told me not to take the boat from Ba Hon. Lonely Planet, my guide book, said the boats from Ha Tien (not far from Ba Hon) were not seaworthy, dodgy at best. It also said there were known pirates on that route. Well, as Cuong said, the boat wasn't leaving from Ha Tien. I was sure that made all the difference in the world - Not!

   The next morning there was Cuong waiting four me. I told him I was not going to Ba Hon. He could take me to the bus station so I could go to Rach Gia. He still tried to convince me.  "Cheaper/faster, all the Vietnamese tourists take this boat." Suddenly I changed my mind. What the hell. When have I listened before? It's not the first time I've ignored advice.

   Lonely Planet also said the road from Chau Doc to Ha Tien has had reports of bandits, which was another reason travelers didn't come here. I took a chance coming here and now I was basically hitchhiking with over $500 in cash on the same stretch of road with someone I only trusted because of the Tony Bourdain similarity.
 
   We pulled into Ba Hon 20k away from Ha Tien. It's a little fishing village where I expect very few and I mean very few foreigners have gone.  Who could be as naïve, as stupid, as masochistic as me? Cuong showed me the boat. As I thought, it was a fishing boat and not a hydrofoil. It was a fishing boat that looked like it was carrying refuges - refuges and goats! So Cuong showed me the boat but I couldn't get on. I was sure the boat owner already had his limit of passengers - all of this was suspect. There were passengers packed on the boat already. The boat had to be checked out with the harbor patrol police before the boat owner could leave the harbor. He didn't want me on the boat, for sure, until after they had done this. Cuong then took me back towards Ha Tien. I didn't know what was going on or why I was going along with it! 

   We went to this small cafe off the side of the road and next to the water. There were a few other locals there and three motorcycles. I had to pay the woman at the cafe a price that was only slightly less than if I had taken the hydrofoil from Rach Gia. I knew I was being ripped off. I was only doing this for the adventure. I forked over the money. I already gave Cuong money for taking me here. I knew he's getting a cut. I told him that I hoped he was getting a big commission.

    This little crew and three motorcycles (the boat already had two other motorcycles on it) go off - down and across a bamboo slotted bridge and on trail to an outrigger canoe. Someone else was getting a cut. Hidden in the mangrove we loaded up the three bikes and ourselves.

    I'd been laughing up until now, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Now I looked at Cuong one last time. Tears were forming in my eyes. "I hope you're honest with me. I won't be hurt?" He turned and walked away.

   The outrigger went out in the bay and waited. The fishing boat came after being cleared with the patrol. It was a chore loading the motorcycles onto the deck. We were finally off and I constantly scanned the water for places I could swim to. I was taking my money with me if I had to suddenly leave this boat. If I couldn't have it no one would. But before I even scanned the ocean I had to plug up my ears with my indispensable earplugs. The engine was deafening. No one talked, they just made motions.

      I felt like a refuge. This was not a boat you could walk around on, play cards on a table or drink a beer. In the center of the deck were two low levels that you had to crawl into and sit. In this case, I was glad I was short. I could sit up straight. I sat next to the captain as did just about every one else who was on the upper level, because the space was so small.

      You couldn't walk around on the deck unless you held onto something with dear life or you'd be thrown off the boat. Anyway, it was covered with the goats and the motorcycles that were tied down. The toilet was a hole in the deck that was surrounded with flimsy tarp. I couldn't imagine using it - trying to open the flapping tarp and go as the boat was rocking all over the place. I was too nervous to go, anyway.

Most of the time, I could see tiny islands and occasionally another lone fishing boat. The sky was blue but it was very windy. The waves were huge and at one point, of course, when there were no islands or other boats the crew looked extremely concerned as we were being tossed about. Anyone who was sleeping was now wide awake. Everyone was alert and rigid.

   I was using two life jackets as pillows. There were five more hanging and tied up. I had difficulty untying the two. There were also two kid sized life preservers. That made nine. There were over 40 of us on the boat, not including the goats.   

      Well, we made it, but Cuong was definitely not honest on this one detail. It didn't take just three hours. It took six counting the skiff ride. About an hour before landing one of the crew members went around and collected the money. It seemed
awkward and tense as the other passengers doled over their money and nothing else was asked from me. I thought for sure he'd ask for more. I had to hand it to them they could have demanded it, but didn't.  

    It was so windy the boat had problems tying up on the long pier. All the 'se om' drivers were waiting on the pier. When one spotted me he jumped on. I ignored him. The boat was never closer than three feet from the pier. All these 'se om' drivers had their hands out to help me - to help themselves. I had to jump and push them away at the same time. I didn't stay to watch them unload the bikes and the goats. I don't how they did it. I charged through the sea of 'se oms' to get some air, though I knew I'd have to pick one.

    I also knew where I wanted to go but the driver didn't want to go there. He wanted to go where he'd get a commission. When we finally got to where I wanted to go the driver demanded more money for taking me to those other places

    I was exhausted and I'd had it with being taken advantage of. The room wasn't anywhere near as nice as what I'd been paying. This time I couldn't hold back, I started to cry. 

   I ordered a beer, put my swimsuit on, and dove in the ocean. After a few strokes I was in total bliss.