A Family Day, Then Remembering Dave's Great Fall

Living in Khao Lak nearly two years ago, I loved the place because there was never a lack of things to do. A motorbike can get you to one of five national parks, four waterfalls, or an innumerable number of beaches. Even more exciting can be a ride down some unknown roads enjoying a scenic drive and looking for something or nothing at all. With my parents in town with such a short period of time, I drove them to the highlights of these places, another grand tour of Thailand's Andaman coast.

On the way to the grandest of waterfalls in the south, I made a quick stop to this waterfall, reduced to cascading trickles during the hot season. Still, when you're from Michigan, any waterfall is beautiful and it was worth the short detour through the countryside.

The roadtrip to Nam Tang waterfall goes north along the coast to the small town of Takuapa before turning east and winding through the mountains thickly covered in forest. Along the way you'll always see some rainfall and you'll never know if it's raining at the waterfall until you get there. The rain on the way was barely enough to necessitate using the windshield wipers and when we arrived we could have used some clouds in the sky to help reduce the sun's mid-day heat.

The falls are in a national park and it's a small hike to get back to the cliff. Along the way is this bridge, a rebuilt, safer version of what spanned the gap in the rocks a year or so earlier (see: pic with me standing above the bridge). I mention this because on a fateful day when the bridge was no so safe, I walked the trail with two friends on a violently rainy day. The winds and the sharp rain made the waterfall powerfully beautiful but unbearable, with no place to hide from the elements. We watched the water gush down from the cliff and shoot down from the sky for a mere 5 minutes before leaving.

Then, walking back through the rain my friend Dave in mid-conversation slipped on the slippery wood surface of the bridge, grabbed at a weak railing, and pulled it down with him as he careened off a large rock and fell to the stoney creek at least 4 meters below. The fall was no joke. I remember being petrified, having no idea what to do. Dave had landed below into rocks sitting in very little water. In a fall like his, he could have -or should have- broken several bones and in all truth, given a horrible landing, could have died. His landing was, given the circumstances, almost ideal. A painful, whimpered, "I'm alright" came from underneath the bridge. Niether I nor my friend could actually see Dave below. After lying in pain for several minutes, he managed to climb through the brush back up to the trail in extreme pain. He luckily only suffered a broken rib and countless cuts and bruises.

These days the bridge is much safer and has a railing that appears strong enough to prevent someone from falling below. During Dave's fall he lost a watch and I actually descended down to the creek below looking for the long-shot chance that it could still be down there waiting to be found but I had no such luck.

The trip with my parents was much safer and went on without incident. The waterfall had less water than before but the weather was perfect. These pictures hardly capture its height or natural beauty. I've been to these many times now and the story of Flume's fall is one that never goes untold. Standing on top of the bridge the new visitors always grimace looking down, contemplating the prospect of slipping and falling below. A great fall, but an even better story.