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Wharf mother goes against the tide

Diminutive Thim has worked 42 years on the Klong Toey wharfs getting ships ocean-bound, earning her workers' respect by treating them better than most bosses

Published: 4/09/2011 at 12:00 AM
Newspaper section: Spectrum

'I was born on the opposite side to Klong Toey. We were poor in a poor neighbourhood. At 12, I got a job cleaning out a ship's petrol tank. I was paid 15 baht a day. It helped the family and I got a taste of making my own money, so I quit school."

Wedged between two huge boats, a worker covered from head to toe in hat, mask, goggles, overalls, gloves and boots sandblasts paint from the raised steel hull of one of the boats. In the background the dust blurs Bangkok's impressive skyline into indistinct shapes. Thim makes her way through the eye-stinging cloud of sand and paint particles to talk to the worker about the job.

Thim says the work is hard, dirty and dangerous, but that she has grown to love it.

"I've sandblasted paint, chipped barnacles, cleaned out tanks, derusted hulls, emptied the ballast tanks. The worst is breathing the fumes in the fuel tanks."

Thim is quick to point out that she was not the only woman working on the docks.

"Thai women work hard, you see them on construction sites selling food. The work here is hard for all of us - man or woman. I wanted to have my own crew so I could get the better paid subcontract work."

Thim says getting her own team up and running meant she had to work even harder and longer.

"It depends on the individual. You have to make choices if you want to go to the next level. I had to show the men I could do the job as well, if not better than them. Down here you have to fight for your survival."

Thim's a tough woman. She has had to be. Docks are rough places and Klong Toey comes with a well earned reputation as one of the toughest.

By any measurement, Thim is not a big woman; she stands at 150cm or four-foot-nine inches tall. Her workers say what she lacks in size she makes up for in heart.

Naing, one of eight Burmese on Thim's crew, says, "I've worked for her for seven years. I'm happy to keep going. I worked in the fishing industry before and changed bosses every trip because they cheated you. Thim's strong-willed, firm, she keeps her word and she's fair. If we're hurt, she takes us to the hospital, she even helped my wife get heart surgery - she didn't have to do that, but she did."

According to her workers, there is a lot more that Thim does for them that many bosses don't.

"We earn 290 baht a day, that's more than the minimum. She pays for our work permits, travel, we get free accommodation, water and electricity. If we have OT [overtime] we get an extra day's pay. My mum looks after our children. We send money home for their education and our future."

Thim's workers are doing well by local pay rates. The website of Thailand's Board of Investment states that the daily wage for Thai workers in Bangkok is 206 baht and "slightly less in the provinces". In Burma manual labourers can expect to be paid between 45 baht and 100 baht for a day's work.

Naing says workers also respect Thim's ability to do the same work that she asks them to do.

"She's not afraid of getting stuck in. If we are behind or need help, she's there for us."

Thim has earned the respect and loyalty of her Burmese workers by paying them above the minimum wage.

When asked why she pays her workers above minimum wage when there are so many media stories of local and migrant workers being ripped off, Thim explains, "It's hard enough earning a living - why make it difficult for your workers? You need them to work with you, not against you. I rely on them, you need skills to do this job. I can't afford to lose them. I respect them and I hope they respect me."

In addition to paying them a fair wage, Thim makes sure all her workers have regular health checks and she provides them with safety gear.

"In the bad-old days there was little attention paid to safety. When I started out we knew nothing about safety. We'd wrap a shirt over our faces and that was about it. I worry about safety; I ask all my workers to work in pairs."

In the background, rows of giant yellow cranes tower above the stacked decks of foreign-owned container ships. As the monsoon-swollen river dips over the horizon, air-conditioned steel and glass high-rise buildings appear to form a bridge between water and sky. A small, long-tail boat churns its way among the ships, its driver using a megaphone to announce above the noise of angle grinders and sandblasters that he's selling "watermelon, logan and fresh mussels".

Thim, all energy, darts along the pier, her painted toenails pink against the rust-stained concrete. She stops to greet and exchange words with security guards, gatemen and an assortment of work-hardened men.

Thim shouts out to the skipper on a freshwater delivery tug - trying to drift his way past to refill the tanks on a ship - does he want her to move her small long-tail out of his way? The skipper replies that he can get by. The tug jams against the small craft, its weight crushing the wooden side panels until they split. Thim's quick-fire response gets the skipper worried. After a series of calls to his boss and about five minutes of haggling the skipper and Thim settle on a fee for the damage.

Untying her boat, Thim heads for home on the other side of the river. In contrast to the machines, boats and constant river traffic, the deep row of coconuts trees and jungle on the other side look rustic.

"Over here we're known as the people living next to Wat Bang Kho Bua - Temple of the Lotus. In our neighbourhood kids didn't go to school, most finished up working on boats or barges."

Thim has no regrets about not finishing her studies and says she was more than happy to get out and earn a living to help her family.

"I only finished third grade. But I made a vow that my kids would get an education and not have to work like their mother and father do on the river. All the profit from what I do goes into my kids' education and their kids' education. My sons, one has a master degree and is a bank manager and the other one runs his own shop and cafe."

Thim eases back on the throttle and grabs a small oar to ease her boat into a space between two stilted houses. Potted plants, washed clothes and wood chimes hang from the colourful, painted wooden houses perched above the river.

"Like all communities we have our domestic problems - husbands beating wives and wives beating husbands. People don't think of this as a village or as a community. They only see it as a slum. It's a tough neighbourhood, but we have plenty of community here. I love the river, I was born on it, grew up on it, work on it and had my kids here, why wouldn't I love it?"

Article & 6 accompanying pics: http://www.bangkokpost.com/news/inve...ainst-the-tide