We started to look on the bright side. We were insured. We were floating. The Portabote–swinging from the new davits–had taken most of the impact, acting like a large fender. If we had been hit anywhere other than the stern, Esper could have just started her life as Phi Phi Don’s new wreck dive.
The archipelago of Ko Rok Nai and Ko Rok Yai is the mother of all those deserted-white-sand-palm-fringed beaches you see in travel brochures and on postcards. The place is a cliché, except that it isn’t. It’s real and golden and joyous and quiet and infused with peace.