It’s hard to say, exactly, what it is that brought the raging floodwaters inside Tham Luang under control.
The man who knows the cave so well, Vern Unsworth, believes the pumping did little except to clear the way to Chamber 3. He thinks the diverting of the creeks on top of the mountain probably helped most. He says it’s a shame the pond at Khun Nam Nang Non was dug up and destroyed so the water from Saitong Cave had somewhere to flow. The Thai government plans to rehabilitate the area within months.
Thanet agrees the groundwater pumping probably only had a “small significance” to the outcome, but these judgments are easy in hindsight. At the time, with lives on the line and so many uncertainties, everything was worth a try. Like Vern, he thinks stopping the flow of the creeks was probably more crucial to lowering the water level inside Tham Luang.
That said, the pumping was impressive. Thanet has calculated a rough estimate of the water that was removed, using the capacity of the pumps and the time they ran. About 502,000 cubic yards was drained from inside Tham Luang (from the sumps between the entrance and Chamber 3) and a further 73,000 cubic yards was pumped out of the groundwater at the front of the cave. Over at Saitong Cave, about 196,000 cubic yards came out of the cave, while a staggering 2,711,000 cubic yards was drained from the aquifer below. All told, that’s more than 1,000 Olympic-size swimming pools.
The owners of the “dragon pumps” were cheered as heroes as they drove their rigs out of town after the rescues, people spontaneously lining the streets to see the 59-foot-long contraptions go by.
If they had kept the pumps working in the shrimp ponds, each one could have been earning $45 an hour, but they had forsaken that income to be part of something greater.
“Our hearts drew us here. Twenty of us leave today. I’m happy that they [the Wild Boars] are safe. . . . I’m proud we helped the kids,” said Thawatchai Fuengkachorn, leader of the team.
The baby wild boar trotted around, ferreted among the leaves with its snout, and trotted on. His name was Bon: in Thai, the word for soccer is pronounced “footbon.” Bon had been brought to the cave as a symbolic offering during the rescue and had since become something of a mascot for Tham Luang.
He was fed by construction workers, who were laying the foundations for a museum, located about where we had squelched around in the press tent a few weeks earlier. The museum would be paid for by national artist and Chiang Rai resident Chalermchai Kositpipat. A large statue of Saman Gunan would stand out front, and the museum would showcase the unity and daring that helped pull off the rescue.
For some locals, all the news coverage about the science of the rescue did little to dull their interpretations of events. For the seventy-nine-year-old former village chief and keeper of local legends Grandfather Boonma Kabjainai, there was a spiritual explanation for the whole affair. He believed the princess who haunted the mountain had trapped the boys in order to lure in soldiers.
“She doesn’t want normal people, she only wants soldiers,” said Grandfather Boonma.
The tragic death of Saman Gunan fitted neatly into his story—a former soldier’s life paid as a penance for the princess, revenge for the soldiers who had killed her lover.
“I think there will be no more [disappearances],” he said. “She got her soldier already.”
But despite the dark tale, Grandfather Boonma thought there was hope for the vengeful spirit. With all the rituals and prayers offered up by the boys, their parents, local officials, monks, and shamans, he thought that maybe—just maybe—the ghost of the angry princess might be sated, ready to leave the restless spirit world and be reincarnated.
“Perhaps Nang Non is ready to be reborn, as a human.”
Epilogue
In the days and weeks that followed their rescue, life was a bit strange for the Wild Boars. It took some time for them to realize just what a global phenomenon they’d become while sitting on that muddy ledge. Life outside was complicated. Their families were pulled this way and that by the government, by media, by movie producers, by money, and by their own efforts to deal with their newfound fame.
They were dutiful boys and went along with the rituals and ceremonies and endless photos with good grace. They thanked their rescuers over and over for saving them, and the world for sending hope and love. They pledged to be good citizens and make the most of the lives they so nearly lost.
Slowly, some sense of normality began to return. At school, the boys faced the unglamorous reality of catching up with the curriculum. Until they were back on track with their school work, there would be no soccer. Those were the rules set by their parents.
After school, they were almost always together. Inside the cave, they’d made a pact to support each other, and that transferred to the outside world. Many afternoons were spent riding or running up the hill together to the temple to see Coach Ek. Lots of people came to see Coach Ek, wanting to get blessed by this celebrity monk. When the boys were ordained as novices, it was the same for them. Many people donated money to them. They pooled the cash and bought a bike for Adul, the one member of their tight-knit group who didn’t have one. It was an act of generosity and mateship that said much about these boys.
They were average kids who’d had an extraordinary misadventure. Their lives were no more special than any others, but for a few weeks they had become the most worried-over boys in the world, and their survival became an international priority.
And they had survived. Against all odds, they had defied the fears of even their rescuers and somehow made it out alive. By doing so, they had brought the most profound feelings of relief and happiness to millions of people who’d never met them. Their journey into the darkness, so close to death, had managed to unite a divided world, just for a moment.
Now they would have to try to get on with their lives. They were still the same good kids they were when they stepped into the cave, but their ordeal had opened their minds and hearts and opportunities.
They were young, full of talent, full of dreams.
There would be more adventures.
Author’s Note
This book was possible due only to the hard work and passion of the Thai research team involved: Jum (Supattra Vimonsuknopparat), Nat (Nat Sumon), Tin (Boontin Posayanukul), and Am (Am Puchara Sandford). My heartfelt thanks for all your help and friendship.
Acknowledgments
I have been fortunate to work with some of the best field producers and researchers in Thailand. They each played different roles, and each was crucial.
Jum (Supattra Vimonsuknopparat) is the ABC Bangkok bureau’s producer. In her spare time and even while on holiday, Jum was working behind the scenes (often without me even knowing it) to arrange interviews or search for fresh information. Jum laid the foundation for whom I should talk to for this book and helped fact-check the draft.
Nat (Nat Sumon) helped me get many of the key interviews that made this book. She spent two weeks in Chiang Rai guiding me to wonderful interviews and translating brilliantly. Nat was part of the most dramatic quests for interviews, and she drove me home when I just had to drink all that moonshine!
Based in Chiang Mai, Am (Am Puchara Sandford) was on the scene early at Tham Luang. Her natural ease with people made her one of the most trusted journalists on-site for the families. Her timely advice led me to key interviews.
Tin (Boontin Posayanukul) arranged several interviews and attended conferences about the rescue, which yielded good information. He did long translations, and much of that work has ended up in the book.
Katie (Kampirada Hongpetrasmi) led me to one of the strangest interviews of the book, exploring the ghostly dreams that brought Kruba Boonchum to the mountain. Unfortunately, the “dark spirit” didn’t help us win the lottery.
Reuters correspondent Panu (Panu Wongcha-um) was one of the hardest-working men on the mountain during the search and rescue. He contributed photographs and fact-checked the draft manuscript.
Rachel Dennis did an incredible jo
b of editing my hastily written first draft. My thanks to Mary Rennie at HarperCollins Australia for first proposing the book and seeing it through, and to Madeleine James (also at HarperCollins Australia) for her work on the photographs and maps.
During my three weeks at Tham Luang, David Leland endured long hours that few camera operators would have put up with: a consummate professional.
I was joined in the mud by another team from the ABC; my thanks to these wonderful colleagues: Anne Barker (reporter), Billy Cooper (cameraman), Phil Hemmingway (cameraman), and Angel (fixer). Brant Cummings arrived at Tham Luang late in the story, to replace Billy, and contributed several photographs for the book.
Thanks to Mark Willacy, Lucy Carter, Mat Marsic, and Rob Mackay, the Four Corners team who quickly produced an excellent documentary.
Upsorn Yeo and Khun Tu (Channarong Apicharttham) kept the bureau going while I was on leave writing.
Thanks to Julia Hu in Australia and Pun (Chaninthorn Pitakwararat) in Thailand for translating interviews with the Chinese team, and to my dad, Ian Cochrane, for the literary references. Dr. Michael Sheridan generously checked some of the medical references.
I’d like to thank Michael Hayes, who gave me my start in journalism at the Phnom Penh Post. His essential rules of reporting and ongoing friendship have had a lasting impact.
Breeze (Parveena Thakrainate) always knew just when to give me space and when to turn up with delicious Thai food. So much of what I know about Thailand is because of you. My love and thanks.
A huge thanks to my friends Aaron and Clara for their constant encouragement and for being so understanding when I spent most of our beach holiday inside typing. Also, to their son Marley for trying to eat pumpkin soup with his fingers, which is how the writing felt some days.
Love and thanks to my mum, Pam; brother, Dale; and sister, Caitlin, for always being there for me.
Phoebe Bridgers’s album Stranger in the Alps provided the soundtrack to my time in Mae Sai and while writing this book.
My thanks to everyone who generously gave their time for interviews. Many people were hounded by the media, and I appreciate those who took the time to share their perspectives with me.
Finally, to the boys and Coach Ek. The thought of what they went through in that cave inspired me to work harder and be thankful for the opportunity.
Photo Section
Local folklore tells of a vengeful spirit haunting the Mountain of the Sleeping Lady in Thailand’s Mae Sai district.
LIAM COCHRANE
Top row of the Wild Boars (L–R): Night (16), Nick (15), Note (14), Mix (13), Tern (14), Pong (13). Bottom row of the Wild Boars: Coach Ek (25), Tee (16), Adul (14), Titan (11), Mark (13), Biw (14), Dom (14).
LILLIAN SUWANRUMPHA/AFP/GETTY IMAGES
The boys and Coach Ek left their bicycles at the entrance of Tham Luang when they went in for what they thought would be an hour or so of fun adventuring.
APICHAT WONGNGOEN
The soccer team entered the cave just days before the danger period began, as described in a warning sign outside Tham Luang.
LINH PHAM/GETTY IMAGES
John Volanthen was one of the two British divers who led the rescue operation. He’s wearing all his gear so nothing gets misplaced in between dives.
LINH PHAM/GETTY IMAGES
Bird’s-nest collectors from the southern island of Libong joined the search, rappelling down shafts in the mountain, hoping to find an alternative way into the cave system.
RUNGROJ YONGRIT/EPA/AAP
Pae (Ruengrit Changkwanyuen) gets a briefing from the military before he begins helping the Thai Navy SEALs with specialist cave-diving skills.
PICHAMON CHANGKWANYUEN
Australian Federal Police diver Senior Constable Justin Bateman, following the guideline into a flooded section of the cave.
AUSTRALIAN FEDERAL POLICE
Members of the Australian Federal Police Special Response Group walk toward the entrance of the cave.
AUSTRALIAN FEDERAL POLICE
The author reporting outside Tham Luang during the search. The heavy rain caused the entire staging area to become a sea of mud.
SUPATTRA VIMONSUKNOPPARAT
Thai authorities and volunteers tried to pump the water from the cave, but the heavy monsoon rains soon flooded the entrance.
NEWSCOM/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO
“Brilliant!” The moment the Wild Boars were found after ten days without food.
THAM LUANG RESCUE OPERATION CENTRE/AAP
This photo became emblematic of the international cooperation and strength in unity demonstrated throughout the rescue effort.
THAI NAVY SEALS FACEBOOK PAGE/AAP
Parents of the boys kept a vigil throughout the ordeal, praying for the safe return of their sons.
LILLIAN SUWANRUMPHA/AFP/GETTY IMAGES
Thousands of volunteers arrived at Tham Luang to cook food and assist with the logistics of the rescue effort, producing 20,000 meals a day.
ABC/BRANT CUMMING
Soldiers and volunteers worked to the point of exhaustion, sometimes sleeping inside the cave in between shifts.
KAMOL KUNNGAMKWAMDEE
British diver Rick Stanton (right) and John Volanthen (in glasses) rehearse the rescue with volunteer children at a local school swimming pool.
THAI NAVY SEALS FACEBOOK PAGE
The rescue in progress: a heavily sedated boy is carried through the cave by an international team of divers and rescue workers.
SAKCHAI LALIT/AAP
The thirteen Wild Boars spent more than a week (ten days) in a special quarantine ward at a Chiang Rai hospital as they recovered from the ordeal.
THAILAND GOVERNMENT SPOKESMAN BUREAU/AAP
The boys were ordained as novice monks to show their gratitude for the sacrifice of others.
SAKCHAI LALIT/AAP
About the Author
LIAM COCHRANE is the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s Southeast Asia correspondent, based in Bangkok. He spent more than two weeks in Mae Sai covering the cave rescue, one of those weeks stationed outside the cave entrance in the mud. Liam began his career in journalism in Cambodia in 2004, as a reporter, then managing editor of the Phnom Penh Post. He freelanced in Nepal for two years and returned to Melbourne to host Connect Asia on ABC Radio Australia. Before Bangkok, he was posted to Port Moresby, considered the ABC’s toughest correspondent position. He was the only foreign reporter on Manus Island when Australia’s asylum seeker detention center was attacked in 2014.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Copyright
MIRACLE IN THE CAVE. Copyright © 2019 by Liam Cochrane. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Maps by Alex Hotchin
Cover design: The Book Designers
Cover photographs: (top) Royal Thai Navy via AFP; (bottom) AFP/Eyepress
Originally published as The Cave in Australia in 2018 by HarperCollins Australia. For more information about sources and the author’s original reporting, see the endnotes in the Australian edition.
FIRST US EDITION PUBLISHED IN 2019
Digital Edition JANUARY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-291249-7
Version 12122018
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-291248-0
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
www.harpercollins.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
Bay Adelaide Centre, East Tower
22 Adelaide Street West, 41st Floor
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
M5H 4E3
www.harpercollins.ca
India
HarperCollins India
A 75, Sector 57
Noida
Uttar Pradesh 201 301
www.harpercollins.co.in
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers New Zealand
Unit D1, 63 Apollo Drive
Rosedale 0632
Auckland, New Zealand
www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF, UK
www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
195 Broadway
New York, NY 10007
www.harpercollins.com
* Nattĥawut Thakhamsai’s nickname is actually spelled by Thais as “Tle.” Many Thai words that are translated into English as having an “l” at or near the end of the word are pronounced “n”—“apple” becomes “apen.” While some sources have transliterated the nickname as “Dun” or “Tun,” I think “Tern” is the closest pronunciation
Miracle in the Cave Page 23