To get a real feel for the island at night, our guides took us on a tour through its unmarked, sandy paths. Flashlight in hand, I tentatively followed them through the forested darkness, thick with bushes and trees creating spooky shadows. One of the guides, Coco, proved to be an expert at spotting the island's rarest inhabitants: the tree climbing crab.
Much larger than the tiny hermit and sand crabs typically seen on Thai beaches, these crabs have powerful pincers that give them the unique ability to scale to the top of trees. Coco held one up to the group's squealing delight, assuring us that, despite being about as big as our faces, these crabs are very afraid of humans and would do us no harm. They are the largest creatures on the island; while it is rich with flora, it does not support much wildlife.
Visitors are not allowed to sleep on the island so we headed back to the boat to turn in for the night, only to find one more surprise in store: a midnight swim. The afternoon's clear blue waters were now a velvety black, easily disguising any dangers lurking beneath.
Luckily, instead of predators, the sea was filled with bioluminescent plankton. Microscopic in size, the plankton flare brightly when disturbed, a chemical reaction much like the one seen in fireflies. A number of unpredictable environmental factors have to align for the plankton to be seen, so we were extremely lucky to see a magical light show that rivalled the brightness of the stars above.
Sleeping on the boat was not an exercise in luxury, with just a foam mattress, sleeping bag and small pillow provided, but the gentle rocking of the boat and cool breeze quickly lulled me to sleep.
The next morning's sunrise allowed one more visit to the empty beach before the tour boats made their unwelcome return. After a final swim at nearby Pileh Bay, we headed back to the hustle of Phi Phi Don. I closed my eyes, daydreaming already about my night on the deserted island.