[Author’s note: see below, Mamasan wrote this in my booklet after a day of helping her with her submarine. This is the text, I have no idea what it means, so I hope some future translator finds it is a good report.]Time for some background. This husband is an escaped East German. The boat design was approved by the West German responsible for such matters. The whole story is rather involved, with lawyers trying to define submarines for Thai legislation. There is a formidable way to go on the project, but no dummy ever got this far. Mamasan has endured being a laughingstock in town. I told her not to hate people for being stupid. They never fall who never climb. You must appreciate the social impact of this for Thai woman to throw in her lock this way. In this culture, risk-taking is confined to overcharging the odd tourist, and over one million baht has been sunk, er, I mean poured into, er, that is spent on this already
[Author’s note: the German, who has a bullet permanently in his back, was shot leaping the Berlin Wall. He is building a concrete submarine on the beach in Thailand, but he was only there a few months of the year. I was joking about “sunk” and “poured into” referring to the concrete. This would've been the first submarine built in Southeast Asia. Sadly some years later, I witnessed some boys breaking it up with sledge hammers.]
I think if he gets the backing, he could hardly fail. I also think that boat has the potential for cargo even considerably more valuable than tourists. A glance at the blueprint shows an anti-cavitating propeller and it doesn't take a genius to realize a concrete boat would be practically invisible lying on a reef, not to mention excellent insulation properties for any combustion engine. There are no flat services, even the rudder is an aileron. I can only speculate on the payload, er, pardon me, cargo, but the hull now weighs over 26 tons incomplete. If this baby ever goes down the slip, the King [of Thailand] himself will be present.
A closer look later reveals a break-in occurred [at the submarine hull site 20 miles away on the beach]. Mamasan locked up some tools and equipment in the forward section, the bow. They broke through two chained, padlocked doors. I explained to Mamasan and most people don't even know it's private property. So we’ll make a sign. H atave you ever try to find someone could make a Thai—English—German sign? In the end, I did it with surprising results. They love it. It was getting the materials together [that was the biggest challenge]. There seems to be only one word and tied for “saw”. Or try to find a piece of scrap lumber--yes, they have scrap for sale. It was entertainment.
[Author's note: after finishing and putting up the sign, Mamsan insisted on writing something. I cannot read it. I wrote the sign in Thai because I knew how to write the letters of the alphabet, but not how to read them. Decades later I still bump into people who remember that submarine and the sign.]
Gone are the evening motorbike rides. It’s breeding season for some kind of gadfly and you can't see them. But you can feel them.
