Easter Chronicles|Fish Tales: Day 3&4

Day 3: April 11, 2006

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We ventured down to Bucas Grande for a day cruise. Lush mushroom shaped limestone rocks sprout from shimmering aquamarine, turquoise and emerald waters. I truly wasn't prepared for the unimaginable splendour beyond.

They are very similar to the Rock Islands of Palau, Micronesia but what makes Sohoton Ecotourism Park a protected landscape and seascape are its sandy coves, islets and lagoons, long stretches of sugar fine beaches, exotic flora, fauna, and wildlife that inhabit the area. These include tarsiers, two kinds of hornbills, the serpent and white-breasted eagles, green sea turtles, and 19 kinds of fruit bats.

The park has 13 inland lakes but

the pièce de résistance is Sohoton Cove.

Entry to the hidden lagoon is ONLY

during low tide and by paddleboat.

Our guide took us in and out of this cove.

Each visit is only limited to two hours

or the entry is flooded when the tide comes in.

There is no other way out in this particular area of the park.

time's telltale signs

The Horseshoe, a stalactite landmark,

is the only way to recognize the Cove

among the many identical ragged cliffs and islets.

magical

couldn't help but marvel and luxuriate in its beauty

There was so much to absorb, interesting characteristics only nature can pull off. 

My photos don't even do it justice.

 Here are a couple of images from the Philippine tourism website:

My reverie was interrupted by a swift whoosh and a cry of pain that strongly echoed.

The FBF accidentally hooked himself with a fishing lure.

On tenterhooks, I frantically searched our first aid kit for something to macgyverize with. The hospital is in Socorro, 40 minutes away, by water. Thankfully, Steve Brown (bless him!) , had a 'trout hook remover' in his kit that he didn't even know he had. I conveniently moved away and let the men handle the 'situation'. I was only useful for hydrogen peroxide and neosporin dabbing.

After that little episode,  we took it easy in the afternoon 

and explored the outline of Bucas Grande as we trolled.

crabbing

a precociously sweet boy

Play a film fantasy and you'll find the perfect setting...

Blue Lagoon

Survivor

Lord of the Flies

From Here to Eternity

The Beach

Combed the shore and put these together

over some Pinot Grigio.

On our way back, we refueled at Dapa before heading home to Pilar.

Unforgettable smiles that tug at your heart strings.

Day 4: April 12, 2006

Pilar-Daco-Pansukian-Pilar

We started out at 9ish and trolled the ocean again. We spotted Junior Gonzales on his Kingfisher. Junior is Pilar's living fishing legend and he was playing guide that day to the famed jeweller Hans Brumann. It was fascinating to see him fight and reel in his dream catch and first sailfish. He struggled with it for about half an hour until it landed. Junior must possess the secret language of the sea since he was with us too when I caught my only two sailfish.

On this bright and beautiful day, I soaked up more sun while waiting for some fish to come around. Got antsy so I mindlessly read Sophie Kinsella's, Can You Keep A Secret? as we trolled and trolled....and trolled.

We stopped by Daco Island to say hello to Bong Castillo's son, Shoji and his friend, Michael, who were with the other men. They left very early in the morning and stopped here for lunch and siesta before another afternoon fishing run.

Sayo, Shoji, Michael and Co.

Sayo and his lovely family

I met Sayo on my first visit to Siargao. He has accompanied us a good number of times out in the ocean. We went drift fishing together once. Drift fishing takes place from a boat that is not anchored but is drifting with the wind and current. There were 4 of us on this outrigger boat from sundown to sunrise. Let me digress a bit here.

Drift fishing the way the locals do was in my bucket list. The FBF and Bong didn't think I would survive and kept asking me right before we left if I was sure since there was no turning back until the next morning. Ever since we visited Siargao, I was charmed and intrigued by the simple life of fishing folk. I felt that if they do it everyday, at least, I could try and see what it was like. We found a spot in an hour, got settled, ate a simple dinner of rice and fish by the glow of the kerosene lamp. We chatted, sat in silence, smoked, and took turns catnapping. Lulled by the sea and darkness and a slight chill, it was meditative. The liberating suspension of not knowing where we were once it got dark, where we were headed, and what was under the deep allowed a sweet surrender that I've never experienced. It was like that for many hours except for the frenetic squid fishing when we realized not a single fish was biting. As the sun slowly crept up in the morning, the men instinctively knew where we were and immediately pointed to the direction of Pilar, our base. How they do it without a GPS amazes me when it's all a sea of blue. We didn't catch some tuna but we had pounds and pounds of squid that Sayo happily sold at the market. The experience strengthened one of the lessons that my yoga guru, Tulsi, has been trying to impress upon me. That it's ok to detach, let go, not take control, and go with the flow. Words that are always easier said than done.

Sayo's dear wife served us these freshly picked coconuts

with makeshift scoops.

While at Daco, we did a quick house tour of our friends, Billy and Marlene Mondoñedo's, gorgeous contemporary island home. Designed by top Philippine architect Ed Calma, it took about two years to build the house partly due to the logistical challenge.

My favorite part of the house is this bamboo loggia hung with

antique Japanese glass fishing floats/buoys.

We stopped by Pansukian Resort to get some wine.

When one can't catch any fish,

might as well drink like a fish!

Later that night after dinner, we went on a moonlit cruise along the mangroves.


to be continued....

Day 1&2 here

Easter Chronicles|Fish Tales: Day 1&2

This was a post I started last Holy Week but never finished. I've decided to do so this week and reposting the first two parts from last year. As Confucius said, when you teach a man how to fish, he will eat for a lifetime. I learned a good bit about myself on this trip and would like to share some thoughts and photos that were published under my Gypsy Queen column from Cebu's Sunstar Daily in 2006.

April 2, 2010

Growing up, we observed Holy Week strictly with the supervision of my deeply religious grandmother, Gliceria. I followed the drill like a convent-bred schoolgirl. Later on, it morphed into bacchanalian holidays that she would not have approved of. After years of pious observance, then of revelry, I think I found a balance during this particular time of my life (2006) when I went on a week long fishing trip on the Pacific Ocean with a former boyfriend. I'll call him the FBF and no, he didn't become a former after this trip either. I will always be thankful to him and our dear friend, Winsor White, for teaching me how to fish. Winsor White is a highly regarded furniture designer who went to the esteemed Kendall College of Art and Design. He started his career at Baker Furniture when it was still owned by Siebe Baker and has had many interesting stints working with furniture greats  like Paul Maitland-Smith among others. Winsor is now in his 80s and continues to live life to the fullest in every way by designing, fishing, traveling, staying in love, and enjoying the fine things in life. Truly an inspirational character.

Winsor White

I am not what you would call outdoorsy or adventurous but I'll try almost anything once. The FBF was an avid fisherman who wisely and slowly angled me into the sport. My first time to Siargao was on board Winsor White's luxe El Gato Negro with a tuna tower. 

I landed an 18 and 22-kilo sailfish on my own. Yes! I reeled them in myself based on IGFA (International Game Fish Association) guidelines. Whether it was beginner's luck or sweeet sailfish carpaccio, I was immediately hooked! They normally catch and release but I took them back and hung them as trophies for my first photo op 'cause it would be hard for someone my size and lack of experience to land two at the first go. I will write a prequel about this following the Fish Tales Series.

it's not a mirage, what you see on the right is a sandbar

Day 1: April 9th, 2006

There had been much pre-embarkation skepticism amongst our friends (or frenemies?) and fisher folk that I wouldn't survive the nine-hour one way trip on board the Malasugi, a 27-foot center console. Someone even asked, "why are you doing this? is it love or delirium?" The well maintained Malasugi, though utilitarian in looks and amenities, had a great reliable engine (sorry, not capable of remembering engine models). The FBF had gone on a few  similar journeys so his expertise and experience was something I didn't even think twice about. This particular time though, I strongly conditioned myself that luxury is not about the of the vessel but attitude. Armed with a bit of that, basics that felt like luxuries, liquids and a fruit platter (except for bananas since they're considered bad luck for fishing), we set off at the break of dawn.

While enjoying majestic seascapes, absorbing the rays and breeze, I dropped my all time favorite Gucci aviators with cool monogrammed lenses in the water three hours into the trip. Perhaps it was Poseidon's way of telling me that I shouldn't care too much about how I looked out in the ocean and there's nothing wrong with the polarized sunglasses that didn't look too cool with my embroidered caftan.

We stopped by Maasin, Leyte to refuel and ate the CPA (chicken pork adobo) and rice that Eva, the cook, lovingly made for us the night before. It is commonly packed for Filipino mountaineers and travelers because it keeps well without refrigeration. Brunch was at Steve and Jenn Brown's home by the water. Packing some marmite along  with his fishing gear, Steve joined the journey on his boat from here.

Along the way, we met fishermen who brave the ocean on these bancas or outrigger canoes. I can't complain about the size of our boat if these men handline fish day in and out on these.

The ride was pleasant most of the way as I read Wei Hui's Marrying Buddha. Her semi-autobio of risque adventures and esoteric interests was a good beach read. The waves got bigger at the turn of the Pacific but I was too eager to see land to even bother much. Here's a rudimentary map of our journey.

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We docked at Bong Castillo's home away from his Cebu home just in time to view the sunset from the deck.  He was so taken by the bucolic charms of Pilar, Siargao's fishing town, that he built two cottages along the waterfront village.

He made an effort to maintain its rustic appeal by blending in with the simple architectural landscape but equipping them with modern conveniences. Nature meets nurture.

Day 2: April 10, 2006

Woke up to the crowing of cocks and oinking of the pigs in the vicinity and warmed up to some tai chi, yoga and pilates with the other ladies.

Time felt like it was moving slow for some reason. I suppose this is what happens as one decompresses from the city.

By midday, I had been around the village and literally did some window shopping.

upcycled ingenuity

petromax lamps attached to styrofoam buoys

for night fishing

I knocked on doors to chat with the friendly locals while surveying their wares. Mind you, we weren't being rude. Many times, they would have their old wares left out in the open. Most are keen to have new things. The FBF thought that the shopping bug wouldn't hit me  here but we took home an eight seater wood dining table with a solid plank top , a pair of black crows and some bric-a-brac. Shipping was via slow boat. In a country of 7,100 islands, when there's a will, there's always a waterway!

loved the vintage outfit so she gamely posed on her stair landing

In the afternoon, we trolled along the

three rocks of Port Pilar but didn't catch any fish.

As soon as we docked, I hurried to the mercado to buy dinner.

This yellow fin tuna, about 5' long, just came in.

I posed with the fish before it was weighed in.

We had some mighty succulent medium rare steaks that night.

to be continued...