My friend Jes used to work at a boat chartering company and was let go just like half of Phuket's population. Her friends in the industry invited us to accompany them on a free day trip to Koh Phi Phi. This was to be the first voyage for Paradise Cruise since the waves hit.

On board was about the type of crowd you'd expect of a Cattle Cruise, They saw Leanardo DiCaprio in the movie "The Beach" and had to check the place off their been-there-done-that list. The highlight of their day was to feed the tropical fish bread crumbs from a crumpled plastic bag held over the hand railing not to mention the occasional flicked cigarette butt.

The water was pristine clear at Maya Bay in Phi Phi Le, the smaller of the 2 main Phi Phi Islands, (there are 6 total). I floated for a while, just staring around me and taking it all in. Schools of tiny fish, the clean narrow hull of the boat and the shadow is cast, the gentle humming of the diesel generators, swarms of brightly colored fish mongering after cigarette butts. I then discovered I could set my watch to the moment of impact when yet another snorkeler plowed into me, 3 minutes. So like the big fish, I set out to troll the seas solo.

I soon found myself engulfed in a patch of brightly colored fish. An overwelming feeling of being at one with nature took hold. However, this feeling quickly abated upon making eye contact with the leader fishes who telephathically communicated to me... "Hey bud, you better produce one of those crinckled plastic baggies of bread crumbs... real quick.". For nipples' sake, I moved on.

Upon returning to the boat, I found that most of the people didn't even go snorkeling, instead, they opted to stay in the air conditioned cabin and watch a DVD movie on TV, none other than... I shit you not my friends, "The Beach". And half of them slept through it.

Paradise Cruise lifted anchor and made it's way around Phi Phi Ley and over to Phi Phi Don. We pulled up into Ton Sai Bay and evidence of the destruction became clear. June the tour guide says in his Texas accent "And now folks, if you look ahayad, straight ahayad if you look, if you look in the straight durection... you will see the damage caused by the tsunami wahdur last munth, the damage done by the wahdur, the wahdur that done damage". Then silence. We sat there for about 5 minutes, nobody said anything, not even June, which was a first. A camera crew filmed us. My eco-friendly elitist anti-mass-tourism snobbish attitude left me as I reflected on the tradgedy.

We then backed up and headed about 5km up the coastline to an isolated resort that wasn't damaged. Everyone went to shore to take part in a group buffet lunch. I didn't quite understand the agenda, I thought we were all going to assess the damage, but it turns out that this was the new itinerary for Phi Phi day trips, we were just the first time guniea pigs to help them smooth out their operations and measure it's success. In return for a free day trip, we would go back and give the cruise the thumbs up.

I had about the same urge to partake in a group buffet lunch as I did to watching "The Beach" in an air conditioned cabin. The tour director told me it was too far to walk over to the damaged area, I didnt have time to make it back. I went anyway. On my way, I met Pat who had the same idea, she had lived here and knew the area well, we made the 30 minute hike over.

If you've seen one picture of damage, you've seen them all. Photographs of ruble and debris can't really paint the picture of being there, the feeling. The entire middle section of this island was wiped away, nothing but masses of solid debris, as far as you can see, as far as you can walk. The smell of death was everwhere, and I don't say that figuratively. I asked Pat about it, she said casually, "oh... many dead animals under the debris".

I was most suprised by the lack of work being done. I have more people working on my condo in Phuket. There's nobody here, nothing. You can hear a pin drop. It's completely dead.

Rather than retracing our steps back, we decided to take a more direct path but got deeper and deeper into the tangled jungle of debris. Do we turn back now and go all the way around? We were running late and there was a very real chance the Paradise Cruise would leave without us. Where would we spend the night? We continued forward with the increasing anxiety that we wouldn't find a way out and would miss our return.

I was feeling nauseated... the hot sun, no water, the dust, the constant visuals of total destruction, the thoughts of all who had died at each place I stood, the emptiness, but most of all the smells. Pat pointed out that I was bleeding, my foot cut up by who knows what, worries of infection are now added to my list.

Well past the point of no return, we found ourselves caught up in a narrow passage closed off by piles of debris, not knowing if what lie on the other side would lead to a way out or to more of the same same. Each step required full calculated attention, if you slip this way you slide into the jagged glass penalty, if you slip that way, you fall into the jagged steel rod penalty. It was an exrusiatingly slow game of twister with serious concequences.

We reached the junction that lie ahead, no clear path out, more of the same debris. It sinks in... This ain't no Disneyland, why the hell do I put myself into these situations? I rationalize my thoughts to push away real panic from creeping in. The answer must lie in my desire to get a real feel if only partially for what the survivors went through.

Total relief struck as we finally hit a clearing. We started running back and I felt guilty for each person we passed trying to understand our hurry. Was another wave coming? Did we see a ghost? What terrified us so much? But mostly, I felt guilty for leaving them behind to clean up while I raced for my air conditioned cabin on the Paradise Cruise Ship to enjoy the next screening of "The Beach".

We ran straight to the beach and were fortunate enough to catch a longtail just finishing dropping off fresh water. We helped unload the remaining jugs of water, helped bucket out a foot or so of salt water, (these boats are in a constant state of slowly sinking) then paid them 100 baht for the 5km ride back to our boat. I was lucky, Pat speak Thai very good. They drove us back to the Paradise Cruise Ship just as it was pulling up anchor. We casualy borded as though our James Bond last second approach had been planned the whole time.