Oh, we werent bored; we were too busy digging.
Fourteen-year-old Biw glanced up. He was sitting cross-legged on a red woven mat. Soft translucent flakes of skin peeled off his feet, the result of more than two weeks in that dank cave. An adolescent fuzz brushed his upper lipa boy on the edge of manhood, thrust onto the world stage.
He looked around the living room before he went on. About a dozen people had gathered to celebrate Biws return home with a low-key party. Biws father, Sak, had invited me to join, along with the ABCs (Australian Broadcasting Corporations) Thai producer Jum and cameraman David. The family was middle class, with a comfortable house and a pickup truck parked in a carport. But the women still preferred to cook the traditional wayoutside, on small charcoal stoves. As we entered, Sak proudly switched on a rather large water feature taking up most of their courtyard. Inside, plates of food were spread out on the floor. The heat of the day had passed, and the tiles were cool in between the woven mats. The family and select friends sat cross-legged, like Biw, sipping beers and soft drinks and fussing over the boy. A brand-new bicycle leaned against the wall.
Biws real name is Ekkarat Wongsukchan. Thai names are often long and difficult to remember, so most Thais have nicknames. Some derive from baby days (pink, chubby, small), some are aspirational (Benz, Golf), a surprising number are related to food (crab and shrimp are common), and some are just a shortened version, like Biws dads name: Adisak Sak Wongsukchan. But a considerable number of Thai nicknames can be traced back to a fleeting moment in the hospital, just after the birth, when a nurse asks about a nickname. In Saks case, his first thought was Leohis favorite brand of beer. His wife, Khamee, suggestednot unreasonablythat their son might be considered a drunkard from birth. They settled on Biw, the nickname of a good-looking singer who was popular at the time. And so, Ekkarat Wongsukchan became known as Biwwhich roughly rhymes with seal.
That evening was the first time Biw had spoken in detail to his family about what had happened inside the cave. Jum, David, and I sat with the other guests on the floor, honored to have been invited to the party. As the only media there, we also felt a bit awkward at being included in such an intimate family occasion. Id been talking about Biw and his mates for days, these boys from the Wild Boars Academy Football Club, joining many on the emotional journey of their rescue. Now here he was, telling us the story firsthand.
Biw didnt need much prompting from his uncles; he was keen to talk. His voice was quiet, but held the room.
We woke up at 6 a.m. every day because Tees watch had an alarm set for 6 a.m. and noon. Those that had strength would dig first, then the second shift would take over.
Little did they know at the time just how deeply trapped inside the cave they were, and how futile their digging was. Their escape route was blocked: two and a half miles of tunnels had been flooded in a sudden monsoonal downpour. Tons of earth and rock surrounded them in every other direction.
Outside, an unprecedented international rescue operation had been under way. The urgent need to get this soccer team safely out of the cave had attracted experts from the United Kingdom, Australia, the United States, China, and across Thailand, as well as an army of volunteers. Millions of people around the world were glued to their TV sets, radios, and phones, anxiously following as hundreds of journalists at the scene reported every development of what would become the greatest rescue in living memory.
But the twelve boys and their coach had no idea about all that. They just didnt want to look like slackers when they were finally found.
We had to try to get out, said Biw with a grin. Otherwise when the officials came, theyd think we did nothing.
As he spoke, Biw flicked the middle finger of his right hand into a finger of his left hand over and overa nervous tic.
You know, I never asked him these questions. This is the first time Ive heard these details, said Sak. Did you cry inside the cave? he asked his son tenderly.
Biw shook his head, smiling shyly at the floor. His downcast eyes highlighted thick black lashes.
For all those desperate days, Sak had kept a secret from the other parents: he alone had glimpsed the abyss, and it had frightened him.
Among the parents I was the only one who went inside the cave, said Sak. Even as an adult, I was scared.
Sak never let on how he felt to the others, but his experience inside the cave made him brace for the worst. In his mind, the best he could have hoped for was the closure of finding his sons corpse. I was the only one that thought differently from the other parents. They had hope, but I didnt.
The road up Tung Mountain was brutally steep.
It was a serious bike ride for the boys of the Wild Boars Academy Football Cluba fourteen-mile climb to a peak around forty-six hundred feet high. The youngest, eleven-year-old Titan (Chanin Wibunrungrueang), was finding it especially tough. But he wasnt far behind the older boys. Even though hed been cycling only for a year, he was keen. He even had modern cleat shoes that clipped to the pedals for extra power. They were hot pink.
Titan had a cheeky smile and a way of saying things that werent particularly funny and got a laugh anyway. There was something naturally adorable about him. His nickname came not from the Greek god, as might be expected, considering his Thai name meant great. He was named after a car. His father was a salesman for Mitsubishi at the time of his birth and was promoting their new producta 2.5-liter turbo-diesel compact pickup truck built in Thailand, the Triton. And so when a nurse, catching the father off guard, asked him what his newborn sons nickname was to be, he declared: Titan.
Ahead of Titan was fifteen-year-old Night (Phiraphat Somphiangchai), who earlier had turned down his dads offer of a lift in the car to the starting line, choosing to add an extra eleven-mile workout before the race even started. (Nights father had also been caught off guard at the hospital, and had to come up with a nickname for his newborn son on the fly. Nights older sister had been born during the Water Festival, so was known as Namwater. This delivery happened after dark, so the boy became Night.)
Together with the boys on that ride, as always, was their twenty-five-year-old soccer coach, Ekapol Chantawong. It was Coach Ek who had inspired a passion for cycling in his young charges. They joined around sixteen hundred other riders in the Spin to Doi Tung Temple, an event to promote Chiang Rai as a bicycle-friendly province, held on Sunday, June 10, 2018. Some were racing; most were just testing themselves against the punishing gradient.
The first stretch of the winding road was shaded by the forest canopy, but at about the thirty-three-hundred-foot mark, the vegetation changed into thick green jungle. Jurassic-size palms sprang out of the layer of creepers that covered every surface. At intervals along the road, bamboo poles were hung with colorful vertical flagsthe