How to Treat a Jellyfish Sting

Location:
Thailand

Thailand, Snorkeling, Jellyfish

By Shaan Kirpalani

“Tim. I guess we’re going to have to pee on you.” These words, I can only imagine were the last ones Tim, the 20 year old Australian, wanted to hear from Brian and I, two 25 year old Americans, who at first, in a genuine attempt to emote compassion for their suffering friend, only wound up laughing at him. And this is exactly what Tim’s friends found the three of us after their sprint from the other side of the beach doing: Brian and I on the ground, pants down, wailing and crying from laughter, and Tim in the middle, torso and arms streaked with the puffy red swirls of a jellyfish sting, rolling in the sand, wailing and crying somewhere between laughter and extreme stinging discomfort.

We had first met the four Aussies two weeks prior on a bus trip from Bangkok to Kho Samui, an island eight hours to the north in the Gulf of Thailand. We stumbled onto them by chance a week later in Ko Pangang, and then again, a week after that the night prior at Hippy’s Bar on the island of Phi Phi Don in the Andaman Sea, just south of mainland Thailand. Last night at Hippy’s Bar we all decided that today’s daytime activity would be snorkeling. We left the harbor at Phi Phi Don around midday in a rented longtail boat captained by a smiling local named “Mo.” Our destination: thirty minutes southeast to Phi Phi Lei, Phi Phi Don’s kid brother island, and also the island made famous by the movie, “The Beach.” We spent a few hours in the cove there, snorkeling in the shallow reefs, drinking beer, more snorkeling, and scampering around the rocks of the tiny island with the big cliffs until Mo said it was time to go to the next snorkeling spot: a reef 100 meters or so off a little sandbar of an island who’s name escapes me, somewhere inbetween Phi Phi Don and Phi Phi Lei.

It was on the north end of this reef where Tim had minutes before interrupted me from my lobster chasing, grabbed me underwater and made a frantic, wild-eyed, snorkel-bubbled, “go up to the surface right now” gesture. At the surface I learned that Tim had been, “BITTEN” or “STUNG” or “I DON’T KNOW, BUT IT BURNS, MATE!!!” We sprint to the shore and find Brian laying in the sun squinting at us. It was obvious that Tim had been stung by a jellyfish, and after about thirty seconds of medical discussion, Brian whispers to me, holding back a laugh, “Dude, we should pee on him.” I had never heard this, and hesitated to question my friend’s medical credibility that diagnosing man-urine to treat a jellyfish sting in the heat of a wilderness crisis such as this was the right thing to do. Brian appeared confident, so I concurred. It was at the moment of us undoing the strings of our boardshorts, getting ready to pee on our wailing Australian friend at our feet that the three of us simultaneously realized the sillyness of what was occurring and began the laughter which went on from this point for about six hours or so.

“What the hell happened here?” asked one of the Aussies, already laughing. I get up, compose myself and struggle through a teary-eyed explanation of why it was exactly that Brian and I, instead of helping their moaning friend, had our pants down and were laughing at him. “Well, go on then, quit laying there and laughing at Timmy, and pee on him already,” remarked one of the laughing Aussies.

“I can’t.” I cried. “I can’t. I have stage fright.”

“I can’t either, “ cried Brian from the ground.

“YOU GUYS DO IT, “ Tim pleaded with his friends.

“There is no way we are going to pee on you mate, “ they respond.

“ARRRRGH, C’MON PLEASE.”

“Nope, you’re going to have to let the Americans pee on you.”

“PEED ON BY AMERICANS?! ARRRGH, ITS BAD ENOUGH, AIYE!?”

“C’mon boys,” Tim’s friends plead to Brian and I, a bit more serious now, “he is in a lot of pain after all, quit being soft and do it.”

“Okokok.” Brian says, “maybe in a bottle is easier.”

Brian and I giggle our way back to the boat. We look around for Mo, and see him through the trees chatting with a Thai woman in front of a little bungalow. The two of them wave at us. We grab a couple of empty water bottles and try to pee in them there, at the side of the boat. We are still laughing. I am useless, and cannot squeeze out a drop. Brian manages to without much effort and runs his accomplishment over to the Aussies. He stops and we all pause for a moment to admire Brian’s production: a frothy brew of warm, yellowish, American pee. Tim stands up, grabs the bottle from Brian’s hand and doesn’t hesitate to empty it all over his wounds. A symphony of hand-clapping laughter erupts from the five onlookers.

“Feel better?” asks one of his mates.

“NO.”

We stand there laughing for a few minutes until Mo arrives, in a casual stroll, with a huge smile on his face. In one hand he has a bag limes, in the other–a knife. He looks at all of us, laughs and says, “Citrus work better than pee, is more acid.” “It was very, very funny to watch all of you. My friend and I laughing very much at you. You should have asked me, I always keep limes on boat.”

Tim curses something, runs into the water to rinse off Brian’s pee and spends the next half hour or so squeezing and rubbing the entire bag of limes over his inflamed torso. The sun begins to go down over Phi Phi Lei, and we crack our first beers on the boat ride back to Phi Phi Don. Tim healed up pretty fast, and a few hours into the night most of his marks were gone. I can’t remember when I stopped laughing.

Further Information

Travel tips: Do the Snorkeling Trip, its cheap, and a great way to spend a day. Stay on Long Beach, its a dollar boat ferry back and forth, and worth it in terms of price. Bungalows at this side of the island are $5.-

Must see/do at this place: Everything. Great little bars on the beach during the day, great things to do during the day

You should avoid here: Jellyfish. There aren't any lethal ones in Thailand, but keep a heads up for the other ones, they can hurt for a few hours.