Trapped in a Cave

Deep inside the pitch-dark cave, 12 players from the Wild Boars soccer team stood with their coach. They’d spent a thrilling afternoon exploring Tham Luang Nang Non—the Cave of the Sleeping Lady. The giant cave was just a few miles outside their hometown in northern Thailand.

Now they were hiking back out, but they needed to hurry. Their teammate Night’s 17th-birthday party would be starting soon.

There was just one problem. Turbulent water swirled ahead of them in the cave, blocking their way out.

The boys were confused. When they had come through the passageway earlier, it had been clear and dry.

The awful truth soon dawned on them: The cave had flooded, and they were trapped.

Deep inside the pitch-dark cave, 12 players from the Wild Boars soccer team stood with their coach. They’d spent a thrilling afternoon exploring Tham Luang Nang Non—the Cave of the Sleeping Lady. The giant cave was just a few miles outside their hometown in northern Thailand.

Now they were hiking back out, but they needed to hurry. Their teammate Night’s 17th birthday party would be starting soon.

There was just one problem. Rough water swirled ahead of them in the cave. It was blocking their way out.

The boys were confused. When they had come through the passageway earlier, it had been clear and dry.

The awful truth soon dawned on them. The cave had flooded, and they were trapped.

It was June 23, 2018. When the day had begun, no one could have imagined it would end in disaster.

Though they went to different schools, the Wild Boars were a tight-knit group. Assistant coach Ekkapol Chantawong, nicknamed “Coach Ek,” often organized outdoor trips for them, like this one to the Tham Luang cave.

After soccer practice, the boys scarfed down some snacks and hopped on their bikes. As they pedaled through the town of Mae Sai, paved roads gave way to dirt ones and neighborhood dogs trotted out to greet them. Soon, they were winding through farmland and into the mountains. Birds swooped through groves of banana and lychee trees. Pineapple fields gave way to thick jungle. The Wild Boars loved these trips, when they could leave behind their stacks of homework and spend time in the fresh green hills.

When they arrived at the mouth of the cave, the boys set down their bikes and swapped their cleats for flip-flops. They walked past a faded sign warning visitors not to enter during the rainy season because the cave floods. But the boys were sure they were safe. It was only late June, after all, and the heavy rains were still weeks away.

It was June 23, 2018. When the day had begun, no one could have imagined it would end in disaster.

Though they went to different schools, the Wild Boars were a close group. Assistant coach Ekkapol Chantawong, nicknamed “Coach Ek,” often organized outdoor trips for them, like this one to the Tham Luang cave.

After soccer practice, the boys ate some snacks and hopped on their bikes. As they pedaled through the town of Mae Sai, paved roads gave way to dirt ones. Neighborhood dogs trotted out to greet them. Soon they were winding through farmland and into the mountains. Birds swooped through groves of banana and lychee trees. Pineapple fields gave way to thick jungle. The Wild Boars loved these trips. They could leave behind their stacks of homework and spend time in the fresh green hills.

When they arrived at the mouth of the cave, the boys set down their bikes and swapped their cleats for flip-flops. They walked past a faded sign warning visitors not to enter during the rainy season because the cave floods. But the boys were sure they were safe. It was only late June, after all, and the heavy rains were still weeks away.

Southeast Asia has three seasons: hot, cool, and rainy. During the rainy—or monsoon—season, the rains can be torrential. In the summer, moist air blows in from the ocean and settles over the region. In northern Thailand, where the Wild Boars live, the clouds gather, full and low around the mountains, and hover there for the entire season.

Most afternoons or evenings, the clouds crack open and rain falls. Over the course of just a few months, the skies dump 90 percent of the year’s rainfall. Walking outside in this type of rain feels like walking through a waterfall.

But a changing climate has been making the seasons less predictable. In the days leading up to June 23, the area around Tham Luang had seen unusually high rainfall for that time of year.

Southeast Asia has three seasons: hot, cool, and rainy. During the rainy—or monsoon—season, the rains can be torrential. In the summer, moist air blows in from the ocean and settles over the region. In northern Thailand, where the Wild Boars live, the clouds gather, full and low around the mountains. The clouds hover there for the entire season.

Most afternoons or evenings, the clouds crack open and rain falls. Over the course of just a few months, the skies dump 90 percent of the year’s rainfall. Walking outside in this type of rain feels like walking through a waterfall.

But a changing climate has been making the seasons less predictable. In the days leading up to June 23, the area around Tham Luang had seen unusually high rainfall for that time of year.

On the way into the cave, the boys and Coach Ek stopped to bow and pay their respects at a shrine to Jao Mae Nang Non, the Sleeping Lady. She is a princess from an ancient story for whom the cave is named. Then the boys stepped inside Tham Luang’s impressive entrance chamber. They breathed in the smell of wet, mossy limestone.

The first 2,000 feet of the cave system is made up of big, airy rooms. Thick stalactites hang down like dragon teeth. Beyond this point, the cave narrows. Some sections force visitors into a crouch and then a crawl. Here, cavers are well beyond the “twilight zone,” the part of the cave where light from the outside world reaches. Without a flashlight, the darkness is complete. If you are claustrophobic, this is where you turn around.

The boys weren’t deterred by darkness and tight spaces, though.

About one mile in, they came to a junction. They knew they should turn back if they were going to make it to Night’s party. But there, deep in the cave, they fell into the allure that cavers know well: What if we go just a little farther?

They kicked off their sandals, dropped their backpacks, and kept going. They wriggled through tight spaces and tromped up and down gravelly slopes, their bare toes, toughened by years of shoeless soccer matches, gripping slippery rocks.

After a few hours, they decided to head back. But when they returned to the junction, there was only swirling water.

Coach Ek calmly told the boys the water would surely recede and they should find a place to sleep for the night. They retreated to a section of sandy ground.

Night thought about his party, about everyone waiting for him, about the delicious food his mother had been cooking all afternoon and, of course, the cake. His teammates were thinking about food too. It was useless, though, unless they wanted to eat their flashlights for dinner.

At least they had the most important thing: water.

Unlike the murky water pooled on the cave floor, the water dripping from the walls had been filtered through the rocks, cleaning it. The boys cupped their hands to catch the drops as they fell.

Then one by one, they drifted off to sleep, thinking about tomorrow, when they’d be able to get out.

On the way into the cave, the boys and Coach Ek stopped to pay their respects at a shrine to Jao Mae Nang Non, the Sleeping Lady. She is a princess from an ancient story. The cave is named after her. After stopping at the shrine, the boys stepped inside the cave’s impressive entrance. They breathed in the smell of wet, mossy limestone.

The first 2,000 feet of the cave system is made up of big, airy rooms. Thick stalactites hang down like dragon teeth. Beyond this point, the cave narrows. Some sections force visitors into a crouch and then a crawl. Here, cavers are well beyond the “twilight zone.” The twilight zone is the part of the cave where light from the outside world reaches. Without a flashlight, the darkness is complete. If you are afraid of small spaces, this is where you turn around.

The boys weren’t put off by darkness and tight spaces, though.

About one mile in, they came to a junction. They knew they should turn back if they were going to make it to Night’s party. But there, deep in the cave, they fell into the allure that cavers know well: What if we go just a little farther?

They kicked off their sandals, dropped their backpacks, and kept going. They wriggled through tight spaces. They tromped up and down gravelly slopes. Their bare toes, toughened by years of shoeless soccer matches, gripped slippery rocks.

After a few hours, they decided to head back. But when they returned to the junction, there was only swirling water.

Coach Ek calmly told the boys the water would surely recede, and they should find a place to sleep for the night. They retreated to a section of sandy ground.

Night thought about his party, about everyone waiting for him. He thought about the delicious food his mother had been cooking all afternoon and, of course, the cake. His teammates were thinking about food too. It was useless, though, unless they wanted to eat their flashlights for dinner.

At least they had the most important thing: water.

Unlike the murky water on the cave floor, the water dripping from the walls had been filtered through the rocks, cleaning it. The boys cupped their hands to catch the drops as they fell.

Then one by one, they drifted off to sleep, thinking about tomorrow, when they’d be able to get out.

As the boys sank into sleep, their worried families realized what had happened. Sangwut Khammongkhon, the director of a local rescue organization, was alerted to the situation around 9:45 p.m. In the now lashing rain, he and his team rushed to Tham Luang.

When they got to the junction, they saw the swirling water—and the pile of backpacks and sandals nearby. Sangwut realized the boys must have become trapped on the other side.

The heavy clouds over his heart matched those in the sky. Sangwut knew the cave very well. And he knew that when water reached the junction at that time of year, it wouldn’t go down until the rainy season ended.

What happened next was a flurry of activity. An expert British caver named Vernon “Vern” Unsworth was called in. He lived in Thailand and had mapped the cave extensively. A team of Thai Navy SEALs also arrived. The SEALs are an elite special operations unit and highly trained open-water divers.

But as Vern would point out, diving in a cave is a lot different from diving in open water—and a lot more dangerous. The SEALs had no shortage of courage, but they did not have the equipment or experience for diving through sumps—passageways in a cave that have filled with water.

On June 26, three days since the boys had become trapped, Vern laid out the situation: The water was cold, the current strong, and the visibility so low that it was like trying to dive through a vat of coffee.

Vern said there were only a handful of people in the world who could dive in water like that, and they must be brought to Tham Luang immediately or the boys would surely die.

What no one wanted to say was that they didn’t even know if the boys were still alive.

As the boys fell asleep, their worried families realized what had happened. Sangwut Khammongkhon, the director of a local rescue organization, was told the situation around 9:45 p.m. In the now pouring rain, he and his team rushed to Tham Luang.

When they got to the junction, they saw the swirling water—and the pile of backpacks and sandals nearby. Sangwut realized the boys must have become trapped on the other side.

The heavy clouds over his heart matched those in the sky. Sangwut knew the cave very well. And he knew that when water reached the junction at that time of year, it wouldn’t go down until the rainy season ended.

What happened next was a flurry of activity. An expert British caver named Vernon “Vern” Unsworth was called in. He lived in Thailand and had mapped the cave extensively. A team of Thai Navy SEALs also arrived. The SEALs are an elite special operations unit. They are also highly trained open-water divers.

But as Vern would point out, diving in a cave is a lot different from diving in open water. It’s also a lot more dangerous. The SEALs had no shortage of courage, but they did not have the equipment or experience for diving through sumps. Sumps are passageways in a cave that have filled with water.

On June 26, three days since the boys had become trapped, Vern laid out the situation. The water was cold, the current strong, and the visibility so low that it was like trying to dive through a vat of coffee.

Vern said there were only a handful of people in the world who could dive in water like that, and they must be brought to the cave immediately. If not, the boys would surely die.

What no one wanted to say was that they didn’t even know if the boys were still alive.

By this point, the Wild Boars were in rough shape. Hunger clawed at their stomachs. They took turns crying and comforting each other. It didn’t help that the cave was damp and chilly. The boys scooped out a ditch in the sand so they could huddle and trap the heat radiating off their bodies.

Of all the dangers in a cave, losing your mind is the most frightening. And Coach Ek was determined not to let his team fall prey to panic.

He instructed the boys to meditate. Like most people in Thailand, Coach Ek is Buddhist, and he often led the team through meditation exercises before games. Just like on the field, the boys followed their coach’s guidance. Breath by breath, they became the master of the one thing they could control: their own minds.

By this point, the Wild Boars were in rough shape. Hunger clawed at their stomachs. They took turns crying and comforting each other. It didn’t help that the cave was damp and chilly. The boys scooped out a ditch in the sand so they could huddle and trap the heat coming off their bodies.

Of all the dangers in a cave, losing your mind is the most frightening. And Coach Ek did not want his team to panic.

He instructed the boys to meditate. Like most people in Thailand, Coach Ek is Buddhist. He often led the team through meditation exercises before games. Just like on the field, the boys followed their coach’s guidance. Breath by breath, they became the master of the one thing they could control: their own minds.

Over the next seven days, all of Thailand—and the world—was drawn into the dramatic scene at Tham Luang. Meanwhile, Coach Ek kept reminding the boys how strong they were. Keep fighting, he said. People are looking for us.

And he was right.

More than 1,000 people had converged at the cave, now called base camp. There were scientists, military personnel from Thailand and the U.S., government officials, engineers, medics, and volunteers who had the enormous job of keeping everyone fed. Thousands more combed through the jungle, looking for other ways into the cave. Helicopters buzzed overhead. Drones prowled the cave waters. And the best cave divers in the world flew in to offer expertise and guidance.

All the while, the rain kept falling. More and more water poured into the cave, driving the rescuers farther and farther away from where they thought the boys might be.

The waters in the cave needed to be lowered enough for divers to get past the junction. The SEALs had been pumping water from the cave entrance, but so far, their efforts hadn’t had much effect.

The situation seemed hopeless.

Then a brilliant plan was hatched. A team of more than 400 people drilled into a nearby pond that connected to the cave underground. They set up homemade super-pumps donated by farmers who had traveled hundreds of miles to help.

These pumps proved to be incredibly effective. Millions of gallons of water were sucked out of Tham Luang.

By July 1, things were improving. The rains had diminished and the pumping seemed to be working.

It was time to dive past the junction.

Over the next seven days, all of Thailand—and the world—was drawn into the dramatic scene at the cave. Meanwhile, Coach Ek kept reminding the boys how strong they were. Keep fighting, he said. People are looking for us.

And he was right.

More than 1,000 people had gathered at the cave, now called base camp. There were scientists, military personnel from Thailand and the U.S., government officials, engineers, medics, and volunteers who had the enormous job of keeping everyone fed. Thousands more combed through the jungle, looking for other ways into the cave. Helicopters buzzed overhead. Drones prowled the cave waters. And the best cave divers in the world flew in to offer guidance.

All the while, the rain kept falling. More and more water poured into the cave. This drove the rescuers farther and farther away from where they thought the boys might be.

The waters in the cave needed to be lowered enough for divers to get past the junction. The SEALs had been pumping water from the cave entrance, but so far, their efforts hadn’t had much effect.

The situation seemed hopeless.

Then a brilliant plan was created. A team of more than 400 people drilled into a nearby pond that connected to the cave underground. They set up homemade super-pumps donated by farmers who had traveled hundreds of miles to help.

These pumps were incredibly effective. Millions of gallons of water were sucked out of the cave.

By July 1, things were improving. The rains had let up, and the pumping seemed to be working.

It was time to dive past the junction.

On July 2, two of the expert divers, Rick Stanton and John Volanthen, put on their gear and disappeared into the water. They made it past the junction but found no sign of the boys.

They pressed on.

Eventually, they came to an air pocket. Rick rose to the surface and took off his mask. Instantly, he was overwhelmed by an awful stench. But it was a smell that filled him with relief.

Human feces.

That meant the boys were close.

Moments later, Rick and John emerged from the water. Just above them, on the side of a slope, crouched all 12 boys and Coach Ek.

Alive.

News that the Wild Boars had been found swept around the world. But as John pointed out, being alive inside a cave and being alive outside a cave are two very different things.

Over the next few days, the rescuers debated how to get the boys out safely. Meanwhile, a team of six SEALs and a Thai army doctor managed to reach the boys with much-needed food, medicine, and warming blankets. But they had used up too much of their air to all make it back. So the doctor and three SEALs stayed behind. Their presence would be a great comfort to the Wild Boars.

On July 2, two of the expert divers, Rick Stanton and John Volanthen, put on their gear and disappeared into the water. They made it past the junction but found no sign of the boys.

They pressed on.

Eventually, they came to an air pocket. Rick rose to the surface and took off his mask. Instantly, he was overwhelmed by an awful stench. But it was a smell that filled him with relief.

Human feces.

That meant the boys were close.

Moments later, Rick and John emerged from the water. Just above them, on the side of a slope, crouched all 12 boys and Coach Ek.

Alive.

News that the Wild Boars had been found spread around the world. But as John pointed out, being alive inside a cave and being alive outside a cave are two very different things.

Over the next few days, the rescuers debated how to get the boys out safely. Meanwhile, a team of six SEALs and a Thai army doctor managed to reach the boys. They brought much-needed food, medicine, and blankets. But they had used up too much of their air to all make it back. So the doctor and three SEALs stayed behind. Their presence would be a great comfort to the Wild Boars.

In the coming days, divers continued to bring supplies to the boys. They also brought letters from the boys’ families, to the boys and to Coach Ek, urging him not to blame himself.

By July 5—day 13 of the rescue—the SEALs were surely exhausted. They could snatch only a few hours of sleep each day, if any at all.

Then tragedy struck.

The route to the boys was a mixture of flooded passageways and dry or partially flooded chambers. The SEALs and other divers had been setting up supplies—like extra air tanks—along the route. They’d also placed guidelines to help divers navigate through the murky water.

Late on the night of July 5, one of the SEALs, Saman Gunan, was on a supply dive, carrying extra air tanks when he somehow drowned. No one knows for sure what happened. But cave diving can confound even the most experienced divers.

Saman’s death sent a tremor of sadness through base camp. But Saman’s comrades reminded themselves they still had a mission to finish. They needed to get the boys out. But how?

In the coming days, divers continued to bring supplies to the boys. They also brought letters from the boys’ families, to the boys and to Coach Ek, urging him not to blame himself.

By July 5—day 13 of the rescue—the SEALs were surely very tired. They could get only a few hours of sleep each day, if any at all.

Then tragedy struck.

The route to the boys was a mixture of flooded passageways and dry or partially flooded chambers. The SEALs and other divers had been setting up supplies—like extra air tanks—along the route. They’d also placed guidelines to help divers find their way through the murky water.

Late on the night of July 5, one of the SEALs, Saman Gunan, was on a supply dive. He was carrying extra air tanks when he somehow drowned. No one knows for sure what happened. But cave diving can confound even the most experienced divers.

Saman’s death sent a wave of sadness through base camp. But Saman’s comrades reminded themselves they still had a mission to finish. They needed to get the boys out. But how?

On July 8, the rescue team filed stone-faced into Tham Luang. They had decided that divers would carry the boys out through the water.

For nearly two days, they had rehearsed their plan. It would be risky. It was very possible that not everyone would survive.

Fourteen-year-old Note would be the first boy brought out. He was given medicine that made him fall asleep. This was to prevent him from panicking, which could be lethal in the cave’s treacherous passageways. So that he could breathe underwater, Note was fitted with a face mask that had been flown halfway around the world just for this mission. His wrists and ankles were tied to protect his arms and legs from dragging and getting injured.

Then volunteer diver Jason Mallinson pulled Note underwater. With one hand, Jason gripped the guideline, and with the other hand, a strap on Note’s vest. He cradled Note close to his body. His biggest worry was that Note’s mask would get dislodged and he would drown.

The route out of the cave was complex. First, Jason swam with Note for about 20 minutes to a chamber where a support team was waiting with extra air tanks and medical assistance. Then Jason and Note continued on. In some areas, Jason had to swim through sumps that curled upward until they were nearly vertical.

Finally, after more than five agonizing hours, Jason and Note reached the last chamber, where 100 rescuers were waiting. Note, still asleep, was placed on a stretcher. He was passed from hand to hand over the remaining 2,600 feet of the cave, across steep and slippery terrain—until, at last, he reached the mouth of the cave.

Over the next two days, the other 11 boys, Coach Ek, and the SEALs and the doctor who had stayed behind were all brought out of the cave to safety.

On July 8, the rescue team walked stone-faced into the cave. They had decided that divers would carry the boys out through the water.

For nearly two days, they had practiced their plan. It would be risky. It was very possible that not everyone would survive.

Fourteen-year-old Note would be the first boy brought out. He was given medicine that made him fall asleep. This was to prevent him from panicking, which could be deadly in the cave’s dangerous passageways. Note was fitted with a face mask that had been flown halfway around the world just for this mission. The mask allowed him to breathe underwater. His wrists and ankles were tied to protect his arms and legs from dragging and getting injured.

Then volunteer diver Jason Mallinson pulled Note underwater. With one hand, Jason gripped the guideline. With the other hand, he gripped Note’s vest. He held Note close to his body. His biggest worry was that Note’s mask would detach and Note would drown.

The route out of the cave was complex. First, Jason swam with Note for about 20 minutes to a chamber where a support team was waiting. They had extra air tanks and medical assistance. Then Jason and Note continued on.

Finally, after more than five agonizing hours, Jason and Note reached the last chamber. One hundred rescuers were waiting there. Note, still asleep, was placed on a stretcher. He was passed from hand to hand over the remaining 2,600 feet of the cave. Until, at last, he reached the mouth of the cave.

Over the next two days, the other 11 boys, Coach Ek, the SEALs, and the doctor were all brought to safety.

Today, the boys’ lives are back to normal but also forever changed. The boys are international celebrities. Strangers stop them on the street to take photos with them. Their parents say they are more patient and show gratitude for small things.

The experience seems to have broadened their vision for their futures too. They’d all love to be professional soccer players, of course. But now some imagine becoming Navy SEALs like Saman Gunan and the brave men who stayed with them in the darkness.

In an interview with ABC News, Adul, 14, said: “I want to thank everyone. You loved us, and we also love you all. We feel like we have a lot of parents around the world, and I wish I could meet you and thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Today, the boys’ lives are back to normal but also forever changed. The boys are celebrities. Strangers stop them on the street to take photos with them. Their parents say they are more patient and show gratitude for small things.

The experience seems to have broadened their vision for their futures too. They’d all love to be professional soccer players, of course. But now some imagine becoming Navy SEALs like Saman Gunan and the brave men who stayed with them in the darkness.

In an interview with ABC News, Adul, 14, said: “I want to thank everyone. You loved us, and we also love you all. We feel like we have a lot of parents around the world, and I wish I could meet you and thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

_{Abridged excerpt from ALL THIRTEEN. Copyright ©2020 by Christina Soontornvat. Reproduced by permission of the publisher Candlewick Press, Somerville, MA.}

_{Abridged excerpt from ALL THIRTEEN. Copyright ©2020 by Christina Soontornvat. Reproduced by permission of the publisher Candlewick Press, Somerville, MA.}

^{This article was originally published in the November 2021 issue.}

This article was originally published in the November 2021 issue.