Lost island paradise re-emerges - Part 1
Bangkok Post (Thailand, 1998)

The 800 islands of Myanmar’s Mergui Archipelago extend for 200 miles up the coast from Ranong. Until recently they remained unexplored and unspoiled, but they have now been opened up to sailing and diving cruises. Collin Pipprell was one of the first journalists invited to discover the islands’ delights aboard the trimaran Gaea.

Dozens of vivid green parakeets flock from tree to tree. At the back of the coral-sand beach, monkey and civet prints mingle with those of other species, most of them inscrutable. Kites and eagles soar high above the island interior.

Two blue herons perch on the rocky point between this beach and the next, while hornbills dither over roosts in the trees just up the hillside. Lush rain forest covers the succession of hills rising to the center of the island. A flame of the forest tree stands bare but for its gorgeous red flowers.

At the back of the beach, a boxfruit tree, ornamented in big white and gold flowers, spreads enough shade for half a dozen picnics. Only there would never be enough people to have that many picnics. Looking back towards the sea, where the 51 feet trimaran Gaea rests at anchor, you see a sea eagle swoop to snatch its prey from a shoal of fish.

Farther out, a rush-hour procession of several Mawken-style boats make their leisurely way to market at Kawthaung and Ranong. That’s the last time but one, during the five-day cruise, that you see more than a couple of boats on a given day.

Writing in 1906, Sir J. George Scott had this to say about Myanmar’s Mergui Archipelago: "…the outer islands rise well above the blue sea… and are clad with evergreen vegetation. The sail between them is as picturesque as anything in the Inland Sea of Japan, but, except for a stray Selung (Mawken sea nomad) in his dug-out, it lacks the interest of man and man’s works."

And this remains true today. Now, however, many travelers consider the wildness as positive thing. Areas as picturesque and as extensive as this archipelago that do lack "the interest of man and man’s works" are becoming increasingly rare.

Other tropical island groups offer some of the same feeling of remoteness – the Andamans, perhaps, or parts of Indonesia and the Philippines. But there’s an added element of mystery and surprise in the Mergui Archipelago – it’s as though you’ve discovered a hidden world of wonders right next door, a 14,000 square mile tropical playground that, until now, everyone has somehow overlooked.

The first Europeans arrived in Mergui in the 16th century. Portuguese, Dutch, English and French merchants all had interests in the area. The islands, at one time or another, have been under the jurisdiction of the Burmese, the Siamese and the British.

The town of Mergui was for centuries an important link on a major trade route between China, Japan and India. Goods from either side of the Malay Peninsula would be traded in the Siamese capital of Ayuthaya, which was connected to the port at Mergui by a land and river route (the Strait of Malacca alternative route for goods shipped from Madras to Ayuthhaya would take six months, in those days of sail, as opposed to a mere three weeks by way of Mergui).

But, from the beginnings of recorded history, most of the Mergui Archipelago has been terra incognita. Aside from a few islands on the approach to Mergui, seafarers tended to stay out of the archipelago because of its remoteness and the danger of pirates. Under the British Raj, coastal steamers and suchlike did come to enjoy a degree of security. But then, with independence and the post-1940s isolationist regime in Rangoon, the Mergui Archipelago was declared off-limits to visitors for decades.

Now it has begun to open again, though only just. This is still unexplored territory, for the most part. Reportedly, there are still tigers on one or two of the islands. Lampi Island has a population of wild elephants.