2009/ / : The Wreck of Slow Boat No.
Somehow that doesn’t quite have the right ring for a rousing Stan Rogers ballad. It was an adventure, nonetheless.
We handed in our Thai departure cards before crossing the Mekong in something like a motorized canoe, and got our Lao visas on the other shore. We were guided through these procedures at first by Noom’s sister (from the guest house) and a person from the boat company on the Lao side. This was not unwelcome help, as we’re still rookies.
We boarded “Slow” Boat No.as per our tickets, for what I had imagined would be a leisurely two day glide to Luang Prabang. There was a more upmarket-looking crowd boarding a posher-looking boat, but we fitted in reasonably with our boatload ….even if we sported fewer tattoos and piercings than most. Our bikes went onto the roof with the rice sacks.
I had no idea a slow boat would travel this fast! Our GPS showed us moving at– + kmh, and any landings necessarily involved a sweeping turn to point upstream and carefully ferry to shore. The water must have been boiling along at over kmh, with huge eddies , standing waves, and cm drops around jagged shelves of sandstone. I guess my image of the Mekong was from pictures of the delta, but the river here travels through steep-sided valleys. I don’t think the villages along the way have road access, and villagers fish, grow veggies, and graze a few Brahman cattle or water buffalo. Perhaps “slow boat” is a relative term, because another travel option is the long-tail speed boat, a narrow motorized canoe, travels at speeds that require the driver (and often passengers) to wear motorbike helmet with visor.
I had had more stomach problems in the morning, so I was dozing when Chris and others shouted a warning. We went aground at speed, lurching to a halt with the bow up a sandy beach, having grazed a ridge of jagged sandstone. This was not a small boat. There must have been nearlyof us who disembarked, and all luggage was passed out of the hold to lighten the load.
After some consideration by the captain, the boat was floated again. Ropes were thrown, long poles used as levers, and a united nations of strong arms pushed. An hour or so later, the verdict was that the hull was intact, the engine OK, but the rudder was broken. There were rumours of a replacement boat arriving in a few hours, but we were now unable to get to the more major village that was planned for the overnight stop and that had guest houses.
The boats have no lights and the river is too treacherous to navigate by night. We were to spend the night at a tiny village and sleep aboard the boat or bivouac on shore. It did not bode well that theor so local Lao passengers had all been whisked away by locals in speed boats.
In the morning the original boat appeared with rudder repaired, an we shifted all our belongings again. Once the fog had lifted, we travelled the two hours to Muang Pakbeng, where we were meant to have spent the night, and changed boats yet again for Luang Prabang, with uninspiring reassurances that we’d make it before nightfall.
We did arrive at LP just before sunset, though, and after reassembling to wheeled mode we bought a map of town, found a guest house, washed clothing, and went to bed very stiff from two days on a crowded boat.
2009/ / : in Luang Prabang
This morning Chris adjusted my gears and I test rode my bike and gave great approval. We’ve just gone trough a triage of gear with new discussion of each item, and mailed parcels home. The hunt for a Lao road map has been fruitless, but our route north is pretty simple, so we should be OK. Tomorrow we’ll start cycling north to the Chinese border at Boten. The new terrain looks much hillier than the plains of Thailand.