Koh Tao & Nangyuan: Vintage Boat Snorkeling, Sunset BBQ, Pickup

4.64

(147 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

We stepped barefoot onto this old wooden boat at Mae Haad Pier, salt still drying on the planks from the morning run. Our guide, Nok, grinned and handed out cold water bottles — she said we’d need them after Japanese Gardens, but I didn’t really believe her until later. The engine coughed to life and we glided out past tangled fishing lines and bobbing longtails, heading for Koh Nangyuan. It’s funny how the islands look so close but feel like another world once you’re out there — three little islets linked by a sandbar that’s probably in half your friends’ Thailand photos. I tried to say “Nangyuan” right; Nok laughed and told me I was closer than most.

The snorkeling at Japanese Gardens was honestly better than I expected — you just drop in and suddenly it’s all coral fans and these bright fish darting around your mask. The new mouthpiece (they give you one sealed in plastic) actually made me feel less weird about sharing gear. Lunch was served on deck while we drifted off Mango Bay — rice still steaming, grilled chicken with this sweet chili sauce that got everywhere (I’m not neat with food on boats). Some folks grabbed kayaks or paddleboards after, but I just sat back with iced tea and watched the hills turn from green to gold as the sun started dropping behind Hin Wong Bay.

Aow Leuk Beach was my favorite stop — maybe because the water felt warmer there or maybe because a local kid waved at us from shore and then dove under like he belonged to the sea. You could see schools of fish right up close, no need to go far from the sand. By Shake Bay, Nok pointed out blacktip reef sharks (“don’t worry, they’re shy!”) but I mostly floated and listened to the muffled sounds underwater mixed with laughter from the deck above. The day kind of blurred into sunset after that — smoky BBQ smells drifting across the water as we all piled plates high and watched the sky go pink-orange. Someone played music quietly near the bow; it felt like nobody wanted to talk too loudly or break whatever spell we’d landed in.

I still think about that last light over Koh Tao — not dramatic exactly, just soft enough that you wanted to stay a little longer. Maybe it’s something about being on an old boat with strangers who feel like friends by dinner. Or maybe it’s just how easy everything felt for once.