Koh Mak

Trat · Trat Province · Thailand

Koh Mak is a quietly radical place. This small island in Trat province has positioned itself as Thailand's low-carbon island, rejecting cars, controlling development, and maintaining a pace that feels decades removed from Koh Chang thirty kilometres to the north. Its diving follows the same philosophy: small-scale, personal, focused on observation rather than spectacle. The dive sites are scattered around the island's coastline, mostly rocky reefs and coral patches at five to eighteen metres. Visibility in the Gulf of Thailand is honest rather than spectacular, typically eight to twelve metres during the dry season. But what these waters lack in clarity they compensate for in character. The bamboo shark encounters are Koh Mak's signature. These small, docile sharks rest on sandy patches between rocks during the day, curled in characteristic cat-like positions. My guide found three on our first dive at eight metres, tucked under ledges on the island's southern reef. They are remarkably tolerant of careful observation, remaining in place while divers settle at a respectful distance to watch and photograph. The seagrass beds off the eastern coast held different treasures. Seahorses grip the grass blades, their tiny forms requiring patient searching to locate. My guide, whose eye was calibrated by thousands of dives on these beds, pointed out two thorny seahorses and a robust ghost pipefish within twenty minutes. Pipefish threaded through the grass in pairs. Nudibranchs of a dozen species decorated the sandy patches between seagrass clumps. The hard coral coverage on the western reefs was healthier than expected, with branching and massive coral species forming a reef structure that supports clownfish families, pufferfish, and schools of snappers. Cuttlefish were common, their mesmerising colour displays making each encounter a private show. Koh Mak proves that diving does not require superlatives to be deeply satisfying. There are no walls, no pelagics, no record-breaking visibility. Instead, there is warm water, interesting animals, and the sound of nothing except your own breathing. For divers weary of industrial-scale tourism, this island offers a reminder of what drew many of us to the sea in the first place.