When Elephants Attack – Khao Yai National Park, Thailand

Khao Yai National Park – Thailand’s oldest and with an excellent reputation worldwide – was used in part for filming of the movie The Beach. I arrive with high expectations and opt to stay at a guesthouse out-of-town and near the entrance to the National Park.

The guesthouse has a resident guide to the National Park known as the “Birdman.” To visit the National Park, I along with seven others climb in the back of an old utility with a canopy for shelter; the Birdman is up front with the driver. The Birdman’s passion for the park’s fauna and flora has no boundaries – Thailand’s answer to Steve Irwin!

The Birdman will suddenly jump out of the utility while still moving, with telescope in one hand, tripod in the other, shouting and pointing to something seen in the surrounding jungle. His ability at spotting the wildlife is incredible; magnificent hornbills with their beautiful colours, elusive deer and my favourite – the gibbon monkeys. The gibbons look so relaxed, chattering excitedly as they swing gracefully through the trees, at times directly above us. Birdman’s knowledge, enthusiasm, and eyesight is impressive, any visit to the park without his presence would pale in comparison.

Strangely, yet understandably we had not noticed a Thai man on a motorcycle beside our now stationary vehicle. We may have felt vulnerable in the vehicle, but it would be terrifying on a motorcycle. He seemed to confirm this by abandoning his bike and literally diving into the back of the utility at our feet, looking up at us with both thanks and fear. I hardly felt like his saviour, as I myself was deliberating whether to exit the vehicle and run into the surrounding jungle, but with less than an hour of daylight remaining, did not seem a wise decision.

The distance between us continued to narrow, the ground shaking from their immense lumbering steps. The air filled with the sounds of their enraged trumpeting competing with the ear-splitting screams and panicked expletives emanating from our vehicle.

Without warning, the driver accelerated towards the bull elephant bearing down from the front. We were playing chicken with a bull elephant! At approximately 2.5 metres high, perhaps 4-5 tonne, and two large long tusks protruding forwards, he was showing neither hesitation nor a reluctance to back down.

The screams and shouting from the back of the vehicle had stopped, that point where fear grips the throat and no sound is possible, our fate seconds from a determination. The distance between us seems too close – adrenaline beating a hole in my chest – my attention is drawn to the tusks looking like giant curved bayonets. With collision imminent, the driver suddenly swerves to the left, and the elephant thunders past us, a blanket of fiery grey close enough to touch, four giant legs each strong enough to cause untold destruction to our vehicle.

Pausing at a safe distance down the road, we babble like kids overdosed on cordial, heart rates off the scale. Incredibly our two aggressors are now calmly inspecting our Thai friend’s discarded motorbike, recent events seemingly already forgotten. As I watch them quietly merge back into the jungle, I question the accuracy behind the old adage – “an elephant never forgets.”