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The Orchid Review

Travelling Tales of an Orchid Fanatic - Part 1

Tom Hart Dyke has packed more adventure into a few years than most people do in a lifetime. His account of his exploits starts in Asia

Joe’s house cum nursery

Since my early childhood - sneaking up in the lunch break at primary school to an ‘out of bounds’ patch of chalk downland called the Warren to observe among others, white helleborines (Cephalanthera damasonium) and common twayblades (Listera ovata), I have had this passion for orchids. Academically at primary school I fared dismally especially during the growing season!

During various interviews with headmasters up and down the country for a place in their secondary school I always asked the bemused headmaster if he had any orchids on the premises. Gordonstoun apparently had not (headmaster stunned by this question), Stowe had fly orchids but no one was willing to show me and Milton Abbey were not sure! The headmaster at Standbridge Earl’s school, Hampshire, however, enthusiastically jumped up at this orchid challenge while conducting his interview. Just outside his study, growing in moist grassland and dappled shade he proudly showed me a substantial colony of blooming common spotted orchids (Dactylorhiza fuchsii).

I spent four years at Standbridge Earl’s School, acquired nine GCSEs, two A/S Levels and both the Bronze and Silver Duke of Edinburgh’s Awards at a practical level, including orchid husbandry in the glasshouses that were within the school grounds. The influence of this great family is not questioned here I feel.

Paphiopedilum concolor in Joe’s nursery

At my home at Lullingstone Castle, Kent, my parents finally had enough of the humidity that had rotted the window sill/frame and peeled/discoloured the wallpaper in my bedroom, not to mention the four-inch nails that were haphazardly ‘whacked’ into the upper ceiling in order to dangle large hybrid cymbidiums in home-made baskets. The construction of two, small, lean-to glasshouses for cool and intermediate orchid growing wetted the appetite for only one thing - to observe orchids in far flung climes, whether in cultivation or more excitingly growing in their native habitat.

My passion for all things horticultural was building up like the intense pressure of volcanic magma, a passion ‘corked’ by a solidified yet now fragile volcanic crust. Two years studying forestry and arboriculture at Sparsholt college, Winchester followed by a further two years practising this trade with a horticultural slant had set me up mentally and financially for far-a-field, botanical indulgence. On the evening of 15 November, 1997 my horticultural volcano erupted: the two Toms (Tom was a friend I had met while studying at Sparsholt College) left Heathrow airport and embarked on a trip that was to reveal outstanding botanical attributes but one that was to make a cat’s ‘nine lives’ look very silly.

The ‘other Tom’ at the highest point in Thailand, in Thailand’s only cloud forest

Two weeks was too much time to spend in Thailand’s hot, polluted capital, Bangkok, while waiting for visas and sight seeing. Nevertheless, playing Thailand’s national badminton team (only got a couple of points all day) and practising my uncoordinated Thai dancing at a packed dinner show spiced up proceedings. It was a great relief to catch the sluggish train to Chiang Mai (which often stopped in the middle of nowhere and even reversed once) and finally to begin the search for the reputedly diverse orchids of Thailand. Basing ourselves in the cooler and generally more pleasant Chiang Mai was a resounding success; north of Chiang Mai near Mae Rim we visited vast collections of orchids, mainly from the Vanda tribe, at the Mountain Orchid Collection and Sai Namphung Orchid Farm. Plants were grown in baskets on metal frames, protected only by a ‘roof’ of fine black netting. Even Tom, who is not a great fan of flowers, was staggeringly impressed. Moreover, at the latter nursery I was given the telephone number of Thailand’s greatest Paphiopedilum grower, Joe Paripoonnanonda.

The next target was Thailand’s tallest mountain, Doi Inthanon (2,590m), about two hours drive southwest of Chiang Mai. Here is Thailand’s only cloud forest and although not many orchids were in flower when we arrived up the twisting road that leads to the summit at least I witnessed my first sight of epiphytic orchids dripping from the trees. Thousands of coelogynes and dendrobiums splattered the landscape in various hues of green, WOW!

By now I was desperately in need of more satisfaction, I had to see orchids in full flower in the wild. This was to some extent fulfilled while trekking/ bamboo rafting and tribe-searching in the mountainous region north of Chiang Mai on the Thai/Burma border, when I stumbled upon a flowering Coelogyne. But all the above encounters served only to fuel further desire and enthusiasm, heightening expectations.

The accommodating staff at the Libra Hostel in Chiang Mai, where we were both staying, learnt of my botanically troubled spirit and insisted that I visit Thailand’s most renowned orchid grower, none other than Joe Paripoonnanda. It was only now I realised that Joe lived a short distance from Chiang Mai. However, our bus ticket heading for Burma had been arranged and Tom was keen to get on with travelling. When leaving Chiang Mai I had this rewarding feeling that I would return to see Joe’s orchids. Could Joe be the man to satisfy this floral hunger or would more exotic locations produce the ‘goods’?

In Burma, however, the only thing that we learnt was how quickly and efficiently the Burmese government wanted to be rid of us; both Toms were only permitted to stay a single day (bribes might have extended the duration). The raging battles between rival warlords in Cambodia and the dense population of landmines limited orchid hunts off well-worn paths. This became increasingly frustrating when clumps of flowering orchids were only a few feet from the path, but to take a closer look could mean a hobbling Tom the orchid hunter!

Laos was slightly more rewarding because at least we were able to see the rare Irrawaddy dolphins in the south, eat sensual, sticky rice and regularly sample Lao Lao, which is distilled rice wine come rocket fuel! However, the depressing sight of fully laden ‘teak lorries’ churning up clouds of red dust (peak dry season) that coated your lungs while seated on smelly sacks of dried fish on the roof of a bus lacking suspension was a downer. As for orchids, the only significant populations that I observed were on the dusty road to the capital Vientiane while being stopped by a child waving a red flag. A flamboyant din revealed the child’s job - to stop us while nearby cliffs were blasted with dynamite. But we had stopped too close for comfort. Seconds later we heard the whistling of rock fragments and the subsequent raucous noise of ‘shrapnel’ battering the side of the bus, us on the roof and the surrounding vegetation. Any orchids in the vicinity, including glorious cymbidiums, were blown from their perches and sprayed over our vehicle.

The People’s Democratic Republic of China (we visited only Yunnan Province) fared the best for floral fulfilment. While children threw bangers at the ‘two Toms’ as part of the Chinese New Year celebrations, I observed sensational camellia and magnolia gardens in the grounds of elaborately adorned temples outside the old town of Lijang in northern Yunnan.

Days later, after my teeth had comfortably cracked the fragile skulls of chick’s head floating in a murky soup, I cycled among the masses of pushbikes to a most interesting orchid nursery in Kunming, the capital of Yunnan province. Coca-Cola bottles were used for pots and the potting medium consisted of red, pulverised soil, polystyrene and charcoal blocks with sweet chestnut husks. I nicknamed it the building site mix. However, fine flowering samples of Paphiopedilum malipoense and Paphiopedilum micranthum were observed among the rubble. Fine Chinese Cymbidium species provided an excellent backdrop to this collection, some of which had been cemented on to prepared branches!

After three weeks in China, without hesitation I booked a flight from Kunming to Chiang Mai in order to see Joe’s Orchids and acquire the added inspiration needed to find substantial quantities of orchids flowering in the wild. Tom, who had recently been involved in a high-speed biking accident, was fed up with people not speaking English, so accompanied me to the friendlier climes of Chiang Mai.

Joe is broad shouldered, 6ft tall, dark skinned with a whiskery beard. He runs an Orchid nursery in the town of Mae Wang about one hour by motorbike southwest of Chiang Mai. Joe’s speciality is chiefly hybridisation of Thailand’s native paphiopedilums. He explained that paphiopedilums are great for crossing because of the variation even from seed of known crosses. At present he is experimenting in the hybridisation of Paphiopedilum bellatulum, P. niveum, P. concolor, P. godefroyae and P. spicerianum. All, except Paphiopedilum spicerianum, are native to Thailand. Joe’s ambition, apart from creating new and exciting hybrids to exhibit at shows, is to create compact forms of Paphiopedilum, in particular P. bellatulum, with sensational markings. Plants with these assets could be sold to office workers all over the world, especially Japan, as a companion to their hard drive! These compact plants will be low in maintenance, bloom every year and have beautiful, long lasting flowers. Joe’s current progeny of P. bellatulum are close to occupying this new niche in the world orchid market.

Joe’s nursery is also full of interesting Cattleya hybrids, dendrobiums and ascocentrums. A magnificent specimen of heavily scented Rhynchostylis gigantea var. alba adorned the pathway as Joe and I brushed past and entered the nursery now flourishing in his house. Joe’s madness is confirmed as he enthusiastically shows me his dining area and poolroom, which are racked to the brim with bottles full of agar jelly (Joe has a laboratory in Bangkok for sowing and deflasking). Pink fluorescent tubes illuminate the orchid seedlings, which are pushing their lush, vigorous foliage against the sides of the bottles. Trophies line the washing up area and I think about Joe’s resilient wife and young boy!

After three hours of inspiration I left Joe’s nursery totally overwhelmed. His last words were, ‘Seeing a Paphiopedilum flowering in the wild is such a rush you know Tom’. This already botanically endowed expedition was to take a new turn...TO BE CONTINUED.