The Moken’s Untold Story: Thailand’s Forgotten Maritime Tribe

For centuries, the Mokans have lived freely along the coasts of Thailand and Myanmar. They spend their lives on their boat homes, called kabang, sailing from island to island, subsisting on the fruits of the land and those of the sea. The Mokans only lead a semi-nomadic life now, but whenever they can, they set off as a family in their boats, journeying for days or even weeks, perpetuating a traditional maritime way of life that has characterized their identity and culture. The hull is badly damaged. I'll need to have a good look at it before we set out again. Look, it's this metal part here. It's all rusty. That's why the boat is leaking. We'll have to repair that before setting out. We'll need to carve out a piece of wood to fill in the hole. So you need to put a small piece of wood in that hole. Nui was born on a kabang, 35 years ago. During the rainy season, he lives in a stilt house. But as soon as the weather improves, he sets out with his wife and children on a long journey. You're doing really well. How old is this boat? It's 10 years old. It was built by my father and my ancestors so that the younger generations could continue to live in the traditional way. These boats need a lot of looking after because they spend all their time in the water. There, that should hold until our next stopover. I need to take care of it because it's one of the last seaworthy boats still around and I hope it lasts as long as possible. Here I am, on board Nui's kabang with his wife, two children and their grandmother. There are six of us in all, eating, sleeping and fishing in this tiny space. The kabang is more than just a boat for the Mokans. It's where they live. Everything they need, reduced to the bare minimum, is here. Where exactly are we going, Nui? I can't tell you exactly where we're going because I don't even know myself. I like being free and deciding day to day where to go. I don't really have a particular route. We're going to sail in and around the islands and we'll stop somewhere if we need something. That's freedom. Yes, you're free and you let the kabang guide you. The Mokans live off the coasts of Thailand and Myanmar in the Mergi Archipelago, a collection of 800 small, mostly uninhabited islands, stretching over more than 400 kilometers in the Andaman Sea. Take care of the lines, grandmother. You have to unfold the sail first. Come on, let's hoist it. Okay, hoisting the sail. It's looking good. That's perfect, Mark. Off we go. Where can I put my things? You can put them here. Ah, that's clever. This is where we put everything. That way they stay dry. We call this space the boat's belly. The front is called the mouth because that's where we climb back on after fishing. And we call the back of the boat the colon because that's where we go to relieve ourselves. So the boat is like a living creature. It's more than a boat to us. Our life springs from the boat. For example, I was actually born on a kabang, and so was grandmother. We spend the vast majority of our lives on a kabang, so it's almost like a body inside which we live. If you look after a Mokan kabang, it will take you wherever you want to go. Huynh is preparing the meal. Rice, sugar and oil were traded for fish in coastal villages. Everything else has to be fished, or rather hunted, because Ngoi, like all Mokans, uses a harpoon and not a net. Go on, you can tie it up. A little bit more. It's important to make the hook as sharp as possible because it'll go all the way through the fish. And then they can't escape. All right. The end is sharp enough now, so let's use this twine to tie it to the bamboo stick. Can you do it? You have to make the knot as tight as possible so that the harpoon holds. So it must be really tight. Like this, is that good? Push it all the way down. For a beginner, you seem to have got the hang of it. Of course, if you've been doing this since you were little, you'd be really good at it now. A harpoon allows you to keep your distance from the fish so as not to scare them away. But the spear part can be right up close so that when you spear it, the fish doesn't see it coming. Otherwise, it would escape and you wouldn't catch anything. So why do you use a harpoon and not a net? I only need enough fish to feed my family. When you use a net, you catch so many fish that you can't eat them all. And you have to throw them back in. When I need food, I go hunting so I can actually choose the fish that I'm going to eat. The archipelago's seabed is covered with coral reefs and populated with sea urchins, starfish, sea anemones, sea fans, and myriads of brightly colored fish. When he goes hunting, Ngoi uses a harpoon weighing four kilos. It's not easy to catch a prey on the first attempt. Oh, that's a shame. That was a big one. He's much too quick for me. He goes too far and I can't keep up. Oh, yes, underwater fishing is physically hard work. The fish swim quickly and are not easy to catch. Nowadays, I no longer have the strength to swim or hold my breath, which makes me sad. What I love about being underwater is that no one comes to talk to you or ask you for anything. There's no land, no boat. You're in another world. A well-earned meal, I think. Look, this bit's not nice. So how did you like your underwater experience, Marc? I loved it. I really loved it. In the water, under the water, it was really lovely, especially as I'm more used to being on the water. This way of life is really important to us. It enables us to provide for our family. But the sea can also be dangerous, so we have to be very careful, too. Remember, in 2004, the tsunami killed thousands of people. Fortunately, we Mokins were able to survive because we knew that the tsunami was coming. There's an old legend that our ancestors tell. It says that when the sea recedes for no reason, it's because the spirit of Laboon, the huge wave, is unhappy and it decides to come and purify the earth. Where were you and your family when it happened? I was in the village, but I was on my way to the beach to get in my boat and set out to sea. But as I got closer to the boat, I could see the water receding almost beneath my feet. I looked around and I saw Manio running in the opposite direction with the other women towards the high ground. When the rest of us men saw the sea receding, we decided to turn around, too, and join the women. We waited up in the mountains until the wave had passed. When we came back down to the village, the houses had all gone, but at least we were all safe and sound. That's because our ancestors had given us good warning. That's strong. Thanks. That's really strong. For Mokins, it's not good unless it's spicy. When you eat something spicy, it warms up everything inside you. It wakes you up. Well, that's what I call warming up. Our journey continues, and we sail past dense, lush forests. On the boat, daily life is full of its little rituals. After several hours at sea, we arrive at Kona, one of the rare islands of the archipelago where we're sure to find fresh water. Noe decides that we should disembark to replenish supplies. Water is a constant preoccupation for the Mokins. How did you know that there would be water here? My family has always come here. They showed me this place when I was a boy. Every time we pass the island, they never fail to remind me, remember this place well, it could save you. And now, I'm showing it to my own children. It's very important to have supply points. They help us to stay autonomous when we're at sea. Before we go back to the boat, Noe takes me around the interior of the island. It's here, in the heart of the lush vegetation, that the Mokins can shelter during storms and hurricanes. This is the kula plant. If ever you get an injury, you rub it on the wound and it will stop the bleeding. It's a cragulan. This is a heart of palm. It's tasty and very nourishing. It's great. You like it? It's lovely. It's really good mixed into soup. We'll take some back to the cabang for the others. How come you know as much about the forest as the sea? Whether it's the sea or the forest, it's still nature which is feeding you. You must get to know them both if you want to survive. When bad weather forces you off the sea, you have to know where to find food and where to find materials to repair the boat. I observed others and I learned which plant could feed you or heal you. And if you know how to go about it, nature gives you everything you need. Steer towards that rock. There's another boat there. Let's go and see. Where are you from? From a small village on the coast. What are you doing here? We're fishing, trying to catch shellfish. Meeting other people is rare and unexpected. It's a moment for exchanging news and breaking the monotony of solitude that can exist on the boat. This is Mark. He's our guest and he's staying with us on the cabang. Hello? Mokans don't say hello. It's not that we're impolite. It's just the way we are. There's no need to say anything. Today you're here with us on the boat and that's all. So how do you like life on the cabang? It's full of surprises. It really feels like there's a house on the boat. And that's what I find very original. And also I like the fact that everything is made of natural materials. Bamboo, wood, wicker work. That's really nice. I haven't seen a cabang for ages. It looks in good shape. Is it yours? Yes, it's mine. I try to take good care of it because we sail in it all the time and we need it to survive. How are things in your village? How many of you live there? There are about 30 or so families but there's no work. We do what we can. We get by. All we're able to find is seashells and sea cucumbers. But that's not enough. Especially when you have a family to feed. You see Mark, if you don't move around from place to place, food is difficult to come by. If you always fish in the same spot, then one day there'll be no more fish or shellfish. That's why we keep moving around all the time. So that when we come back to a place, there'll be food there again. Help yourselves. There's enough for everybody. And eat. Eat. Drink. The R is difficult to pronounce. That behind you is the sun. A man of many talents. Not bad. These are for you, Mark. Are they chilies? Tonight you're going to have a spicy meal, just how you like it. Oh yes, thank you very much. Mark, that's okay, that'll hold. Come here. After spending several days with Noi and his family, I have a better understanding of their need to move around. Living by the rhythms of the sea is a choice of freedom. Even if it means living apart from the rest of the world. How do you see the future for the Mokans, Noi? I see the other Mokans. They've stopped using cabangs. They almost all live in houses. They don't want to live on the sea anymore. As far as I'm concerned, even if you gave me a huge piece of land with a lovely house, I'd still prefer to live on my boat. I'll teach my children how to build a cabang. Because if we stop living in the way that we've always lived, how could we still call ourselves Mokans? I was born on a cabang. And I hope to end my days on a cabang, just as my Mokan ancestors have always done before me. Our journey goes on. I don't know where we're going, nor when we'll arrive. The sea's rhythms are ingrained on this family's way of life. And I was fortunate to share their taste for freedom and their powerful desire to be guided by the wind and the stars.