Organic Fish Food.

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Organic Fish Food

“What if they are all weirdos?” Mr Woog asked last week as I packed my bag for Panwa Beach, Thailand where I was to be joined by a dozen readers for a week of rest and relaxation.

“Cannot be weirder than me.” I told him. He seemed quite satisfied with that answer.

Truth is, they are exactly the same as me, coming in for a week of nothingness. No meals to cook. No beds to make, and where the biggest daily decision is what drink to order at Happy Hour. Panwa Beach is in Phuket, but far from the maddening crowds of Patong and the like which is right up my alley. The chicks on this trip are tops, and by the time we had a champers at the airport before boarding the flight, I knew that weirdness was not going to be a problem.

Yesterday we went out to Phi Phi Island on a boat. Let’s just say that I have been there, so you don’t need to go. It was undeniably beautiful. There is the Phi Phi Island that you visualise in your head, and then there is the real Phi Phi Island which is packed with boats and tourists, so thick that it is nigh on impossible to move.

The highlight of the trip was the snorkelling. Our boat found a quiet spot and dropped anchor. Meanwhile I was trying to work out how to just breathe through my mouth without over thinking the whole process.

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I just could not do it, even on the boat let alone in the water. I tried several times, and in each instance I had a mini panic attack even though my life was far from in danger. It is unnatural. I don’t like it.

People began to jump off the back of the boat, so I fully kitted myself up in a mask, flippers and a buoyancy vest. I lined up with everyone and when it got to my turn to jump, naturally I froze. Again, it felt unnatural.

“One, two, three!” The chicks shouted at me and again, I baulked. But then I realised that I was holding up the line, and I couldn’t go back so I did a very inelegant jump off the boat, accompanied by a huge big scream, just so I could draw as much attention to myself as possible. Once I regained what could only be called a slight sniff on composure, I stuck my masked head under the water (left that pesky snorkel thing on the boat because you got to know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to walk away and know when to run) and holy shit!

Thousands of fish! All swimming around in a very erratic way and some coming straight for me. (Later I found out that one of the boat attendants threw a small piece of pineapple in next to me when I landed into the water and they were enjoying a feeding frenzy.)

And that is when it dawned on me. I too was the subject of a feeding frenzy. I felt them, the little bastards, nibbling on my ass and the top of my thighs. This sent me into a fever pitch of shrieking not seen since the hysterical wails emitted from my sister Mrs. Ryan in 2010 when she got mugged by a large monkey. I put on quite the performance, thrashing at the water and kicking at the deep blue ocean beneath me. It came and went. One second I was under attack, the next second I was left alone.

One of the dozen on my new mates, Kath, came over to see why I was clearly, not enjoying my outing with nature.

“I am being bitten by these fucking fish!” I screamed. She immediately looked panicked. And then I felt them again.

“FUCK OFF FISH!” Thrash, thrash, thrash….. Then nothing again. During this whole time I was trying to get closer to the boat so I could get back onto the bloody thing and then something dawned on me.

“Oh my god!” I said to Kath who was very concerned. “It wasn’t the fish…”

What had happened was that I was being “attacked and eaten” by a stray strap coming from the bottom of my life vest.





I sheepishly revealed this to Kath, who went into a hysterical laughter for quite some time. I took off the vest immediately  because by this stage it was up around my head anyway, and cursed at it. Then an English gentleman tourist swam past me and the tip of his flipper connected right with my clacker. So I took it as a sign that snorkelling was not for me.

If you are keen to join me on the next escape (it is totally fancy pants) register your interest HERE.

When is the last time you ran away from the everyday?

Where did you go? Bet you didn’t get kicked in the lady garden….