Our first morning in the Philippines finds us refreshed and ready to begin a whole new chapter of Keturah's voyage. There is a nice breeze which makes it possible for us to sail the rest of Hinatuan passage south of Panaon Island. We are on our last few cigarettes and more importantly nobody has seen a cold drink in over a week of motoring in sweltering calms, so we head to a nearby village where also supposedly a school of whale sharks resides.
We arrive in Pintuyan mid afternoon, anchoring near the San Antonio settlement. Once settled, and verified that there are no whale sharks at all (left?) in the bay, we row ashore to pursue a bit of money changing and whatever may come out of a refrigerator. We hitch a ride on some kid’s motorbikes and soon we’re in town. The bank does not change money, and we struggle to find a kind soul to exchange miserly five dollars to shop for basic necessities. At last a shopkeeper agrees to give us some pesos, and with the five dollars we feast on smokes, coca cola, beer, sprite, the works. Pintuyan seems like a small town of old back in some areas of rural Italy: low brick homes siding one single main street with whole families living on the doorstep. We are waved and cheered all the way, elderly ladies staring at us amazedly and coming close to inspect us, grinning and squinting. Guess tourism isn’t part of the economy around here. On the way back to the boat I also get to inspect some freshly built local boat, called “Banca” it’s a very pretty double outrigger craft usually powered with Chinese single cylinder motor.
One day motoring by Limasawa Island Magellan’s first landing in the Philippines- anchored at San Roque. Not much to report except more current streams crossing the channel making strange streaks and eddies in the water. Last stretch to Cebu is done sailing well in a steady breeze up the Canigao Channel, dodging the reef and the cargo ships, while witnessing some dynamite fishing. Canigao reef would be quite stunning had it not been so heavily fished. The few areas above water of it have turned into island-cities, covered end to end by stilt huts and homes, looking like mirages of a tropical Venice. We anchor there too one night, wanting to get into Cebu by daylight. The night is calm and quiet, and all around us are the lanterns of the many boats and canoes fishing.
Getting to Cebu at last is a bit of a shock: a real city, real big, last one I’ve seen being Auckland almost two years ago. We look for our friends from Hamamas, which we think arrived a couple days earlier than us, but they are not in the Marina or the yacht club anchorage, which is where we decide to go in order to leave the dinghy safely and have access to showers etc.
A few days later Cecilia leaves Keturah: six months of common living, she is now the most missed past crew. I get busy with the fabled improvements that should come so cheap and easily in the Philippines: a second solar panel and a new dinghy. The solar panel comes easily enough through a “connection” we got recommended in Palau, while the dinghy, after mucho mucho pesos and anxious waiting turns out to be a complete rip-off, but being warned that in PI murders are committed for a few bucks we think better than to complain and pay up and walk away with a mockery of a badly painted unseaworthy non-marine plywood bathtub. Fantastic encounter was instead meeting Martin from Hyde Sails: for only about 350 USD he got all of our sails overhauled and made perfect, including the Genoa ripped in the infamous tropical storm we encountered off Tuvalu. At the Yacht Club we also befriend Fernando. He sailed through the Pacific in record time straight from Costa Rica on a mega-yacht owned by an American international pimp. In a few days Cat will arrive from the States, and we want to be ready to go cruising ASAP. Turns out the whole crew on Fernando’s boat gets replaces by Filipinos, so he’s suddenly unemployed but free from the dreadful fatso whoremonger. Feeling sorry for him and not wanting to be left alone with two women, I give him a deal he can’t refuse. We stock up on everything necessary and unnecessary, tidy up the boat and off we go seeing the Philippines!
After a few days of gorging, shopping, exploring Cebu’s historical center and of course preparing the boat we set off for the Visayan Islands. In rapid succession we motor to Bohol’s northern area, then to Tagbilaran. In Tagbilaran we all go out for dinner in the rickety dinghy, a squall comes in while we wait for our orders and when returned to the boat she dragged anchor until the tackle got stuck on a ferry’s anchor, so Keturah is hanging under the bow of a giant ferry…we quietly paddle to her after the shock of not seeing the boat at her anchoring spot, kick in the motor and luckily go to re-anchor without a scratch. Had the ferry not been there to stop Keturah she would have ended on the reef further out.
Being Tagbilaran pretty but not worth the bad holding ground we leave again for Balicasag. Balicasag is the first of many pleasant surprises in the Visaya. It’s a tiny perfectly round island fringed by a perfect white beach and moorings all around to preserve the coral. We take up a mooring on the village side and enjoy a couple days of peace, snorkeling, good food, walks. Then some western wind comes and we move to the other side (resort side) and do some more of that plus cold beer in the evening. Cat and Fernando also go diving around the island and report a very nice experience.
We move on to another tiny island, Pamilacan. There is no reported anchorage but the layout of the island and the presence of another marine reserve is attractive. Pamilacan is truly another idyllic sight: a steep coastline all around except on the northern side where the wide white sand beach is a “porch” to the picturesque village, the beach itself adorned with the ruins of a Spanish fortress. Picture perfect.
The anchoring however is truly weird and some current requires us to drop a second anchor astern. As by in a manual, everything is calm until near sunset when we can see rain approaching. I don’t feel like worrying too much and just sit there waiting to see if it’s got a punch to it or not. Of course it does, so we leave in a hurry to the other side in complete darkness where other fishing boats are taking shelter. The day after we go retrieve the stern anchor left behind and leave for Siquijor.
We anchor at first in Maria bay, good sandy bottom rising slowly, good shelter. I decide that the dinghy needs some modification to make it at least a bit more stable by lowering the bench we sit on, so the day after I pack up all the tools I need and head for the beach where I intend to rent some power for my tools and work there so I won’t mess up the whole boat. It is Saturday however, so being the whole village unemployed I am soon the center of attention for most of the bay’s inhabitants! Cunningly, the Marians slowly take over the job for me, I try to resist but they are simply too many, and in a matter of minutes they corner me sitting on a log while they hack away at the dinghy at lightning speed. All the while we are shown the local specialty catch: giant cuttlefish from the deep; some of them weighing over five kilos and measuring almost a meter. I am almost embarrassed at their kindness and high spirited work on the dinghy (much hilarious communication/pantomime happening between me and them), though I suspect they are the embarrassed one hearing that a fellow Filipino screwed me up so badly. To thank them all I decide to offer the whole village a drink, and a short ride to town finds me in possession of five bottles of Barcelona brandy, price: one US dollar a bottle!
Needless to say, one hour later and countless laughter after finds me in a state of complete intoxication during which, I’ve been told, I made a complete ass of myself for everyone’s absolute delight.
The details of this not fit to include a posed blog such as this one.
On Sunday we all get on motorbikes and are taken for a tour of the island: a quick tour of beaches and nearly deserted resorts and then being Sunday we are taken to bet on cock fights, which is a big thing in Philippines.
After a couple days we move then to the south side of Siquijor, by a town called Lazi. In Lazi we get to see one of the oldest churches in the country and a former convent now turned into a school, then we patronize the waterfall where we chill wash and relax to end the day in one of the few local restaurants (we are the only white tourists) by the harbor. Cold beer and pork cooked in a million different ways. Lazi gets the prize for best food in PI.
Six days of Siquijor are plenty enough, time to move to Apo, just over there on the horizon. Apo is another marine sanctuary, very monitored and protected, and in fact when we arrive at one mooring the water is so clear and the corals so brightly colored that it looks to shallow to pick up, even though it’s plenty deep. We pick up another mooring further down and immediately go snorkeling over one of the best reefs this side of the globe a truly Technicolor experience!
We spend a few days between the northern side where we are moored or walking over to the south side where the actual village and resorts are, to do so means climbing over two sets of extremely steep stairs and a pleasant walk in a forested valley. The resort and village side is truly stunning but at this time also exposed to the SW wind blowing steadily, so we must remain north side.
Done with Apo, Camiguin is just eighty miles away. Some sailing and some motoring and the morning after we stop at the huge white sand bar sticking out the NW side, also called Medano Island. The sand is white-white-white and the water bright turquoise: Great picture/wallowing in water time.
The anchorage is by the town of Mambajao. We find a place with beach huts that lets us shower, then lunch, internet etc.
What to do in Camiguin are mostly waterfalls, hot springs, climbing the peaks of mount Hibok-Hibok and Catarman. We’re way too mellow for exertion, and decide instead to concentrate on lazing around the really high, cool and refreshing waterfall, eat out, while I and Fernando also score some fresh Herbal Provisions.
Fernando’s time (and money) has run out, so he needs to go look for another job maybe in Malaysia or Singapore, or maybe returning to Ecuador to his off-road car racing and chicken farm (where the chickens have weak hearts from growing too fast and so can die by the dozen at the slightest stress).
Being badly in need of a paint job and god knows what else I want to check out Cagayan De Oro where it is rumored a boatyard is. We motor there and arrive in the afternoon. We are surrounded by sea gypsies from the Sulu Sea, the city is filthy and chaotic, and we can’t find the boatyard. The morning after at 5 AM we are on our way out, relieved.
Another stop in Camiguin by Sagay. Lovely town, we spend a whole afternoon playing with children while drinking at a street bar. Then on to the Eastern part of Bohol, motor through the inside part of Danajon bank and just about one month from leaving we are back in Cebu.
Cat departs and it’s time to get some work done, so after asking around we head to Port Carmen where two months will be spent getting bottom and topside paint done, a new floor and some other repairs done while almost coming to blows with the American psychotic asshole running the boatyard. In this time I also get hospitalized for yet another infection to my right leg.
We arrive in Pintuyan mid afternoon, anchoring near the San Antonio settlement. Once settled, and verified that there are no whale sharks at all (left?) in the bay, we row ashore to pursue a bit of money changing and whatever may come out of a refrigerator. We hitch a ride on some kid’s motorbikes and soon we’re in town. The bank does not change money, and we struggle to find a kind soul to exchange miserly five dollars to shop for basic necessities. At last a shopkeeper agrees to give us some pesos, and with the five dollars we feast on smokes, coca cola, beer, sprite, the works. Pintuyan seems like a small town of old back in some areas of rural Italy: low brick homes siding one single main street with whole families living on the doorstep. We are waved and cheered all the way, elderly ladies staring at us amazedly and coming close to inspect us, grinning and squinting. Guess tourism isn’t part of the economy around here. On the way back to the boat I also get to inspect some freshly built local boat, called “Banca” it’s a very pretty double outrigger craft usually powered with Chinese single cylinder motor.
One day motoring by Limasawa Island Magellan’s first landing in the Philippines- anchored at San Roque. Not much to report except more current streams crossing the channel making strange streaks and eddies in the water. Last stretch to Cebu is done sailing well in a steady breeze up the Canigao Channel, dodging the reef and the cargo ships, while witnessing some dynamite fishing. Canigao reef would be quite stunning had it not been so heavily fished. The few areas above water of it have turned into island-cities, covered end to end by stilt huts and homes, looking like mirages of a tropical Venice. We anchor there too one night, wanting to get into Cebu by daylight. The night is calm and quiet, and all around us are the lanterns of the many boats and canoes fishing.
Getting to Cebu at last is a bit of a shock: a real city, real big, last one I’ve seen being Auckland almost two years ago. We look for our friends from Hamamas, which we think arrived a couple days earlier than us, but they are not in the Marina or the yacht club anchorage, which is where we decide to go in order to leave the dinghy safely and have access to showers etc.
A few days later Cecilia leaves Keturah: six months of common living, she is now the most missed past crew. I get busy with the fabled improvements that should come so cheap and easily in the Philippines: a second solar panel and a new dinghy. The solar panel comes easily enough through a “connection” we got recommended in Palau, while the dinghy, after mucho mucho pesos and anxious waiting turns out to be a complete rip-off, but being warned that in PI murders are committed for a few bucks we think better than to complain and pay up and walk away with a mockery of a badly painted unseaworthy non-marine plywood bathtub. Fantastic encounter was instead meeting Martin from Hyde Sails: for only about 350 USD he got all of our sails overhauled and made perfect, including the Genoa ripped in the infamous tropical storm we encountered off Tuvalu. At the Yacht Club we also befriend Fernando. He sailed through the Pacific in record time straight from Costa Rica on a mega-yacht owned by an American international pimp. In a few days Cat will arrive from the States, and we want to be ready to go cruising ASAP. Turns out the whole crew on Fernando’s boat gets replaces by Filipinos, so he’s suddenly unemployed but free from the dreadful fatso whoremonger. Feeling sorry for him and not wanting to be left alone with two women, I give him a deal he can’t refuse. We stock up on everything necessary and unnecessary, tidy up the boat and off we go seeing the Philippines!
After a few days of gorging, shopping, exploring Cebu’s historical center and of course preparing the boat we set off for the Visayan Islands. In rapid succession we motor to Bohol’s northern area, then to Tagbilaran. In Tagbilaran we all go out for dinner in the rickety dinghy, a squall comes in while we wait for our orders and when returned to the boat she dragged anchor until the tackle got stuck on a ferry’s anchor, so Keturah is hanging under the bow of a giant ferry…we quietly paddle to her after the shock of not seeing the boat at her anchoring spot, kick in the motor and luckily go to re-anchor without a scratch. Had the ferry not been there to stop Keturah she would have ended on the reef further out.
Being Tagbilaran pretty but not worth the bad holding ground we leave again for Balicasag. Balicasag is the first of many pleasant surprises in the Visaya. It’s a tiny perfectly round island fringed by a perfect white beach and moorings all around to preserve the coral. We take up a mooring on the village side and enjoy a couple days of peace, snorkeling, good food, walks. Then some western wind comes and we move to the other side (resort side) and do some more of that plus cold beer in the evening. Cat and Fernando also go diving around the island and report a very nice experience.
We move on to another tiny island, Pamilacan. There is no reported anchorage but the layout of the island and the presence of another marine reserve is attractive. Pamilacan is truly another idyllic sight: a steep coastline all around except on the northern side where the wide white sand beach is a “porch” to the picturesque village, the beach itself adorned with the ruins of a Spanish fortress. Picture perfect.
The anchoring however is truly weird and some current requires us to drop a second anchor astern. As by in a manual, everything is calm until near sunset when we can see rain approaching. I don’t feel like worrying too much and just sit there waiting to see if it’s got a punch to it or not. Of course it does, so we leave in a hurry to the other side in complete darkness where other fishing boats are taking shelter. The day after we go retrieve the stern anchor left behind and leave for Siquijor.
We anchor at first in Maria bay, good sandy bottom rising slowly, good shelter. I decide that the dinghy needs some modification to make it at least a bit more stable by lowering the bench we sit on, so the day after I pack up all the tools I need and head for the beach where I intend to rent some power for my tools and work there so I won’t mess up the whole boat. It is Saturday however, so being the whole village unemployed I am soon the center of attention for most of the bay’s inhabitants! Cunningly, the Marians slowly take over the job for me, I try to resist but they are simply too many, and in a matter of minutes they corner me sitting on a log while they hack away at the dinghy at lightning speed. All the while we are shown the local specialty catch: giant cuttlefish from the deep; some of them weighing over five kilos and measuring almost a meter. I am almost embarrassed at their kindness and high spirited work on the dinghy (much hilarious communication/pantomime happening between me and them), though I suspect they are the embarrassed one hearing that a fellow Filipino screwed me up so badly. To thank them all I decide to offer the whole village a drink, and a short ride to town finds me in possession of five bottles of Barcelona brandy, price: one US dollar a bottle!
Needless to say, one hour later and countless laughter after finds me in a state of complete intoxication during which, I’ve been told, I made a complete ass of myself for everyone’s absolute delight.
The details of this not fit to include a posed blog such as this one.
On Sunday we all get on motorbikes and are taken for a tour of the island: a quick tour of beaches and nearly deserted resorts and then being Sunday we are taken to bet on cock fights, which is a big thing in Philippines.
After a couple days we move then to the south side of Siquijor, by a town called Lazi. In Lazi we get to see one of the oldest churches in the country and a former convent now turned into a school, then we patronize the waterfall where we chill wash and relax to end the day in one of the few local restaurants (we are the only white tourists) by the harbor. Cold beer and pork cooked in a million different ways. Lazi gets the prize for best food in PI.
Six days of Siquijor are plenty enough, time to move to Apo, just over there on the horizon. Apo is another marine sanctuary, very monitored and protected, and in fact when we arrive at one mooring the water is so clear and the corals so brightly colored that it looks to shallow to pick up, even though it’s plenty deep. We pick up another mooring further down and immediately go snorkeling over one of the best reefs this side of the globe a truly Technicolor experience!
We spend a few days between the northern side where we are moored or walking over to the south side where the actual village and resorts are, to do so means climbing over two sets of extremely steep stairs and a pleasant walk in a forested valley. The resort and village side is truly stunning but at this time also exposed to the SW wind blowing steadily, so we must remain north side.Done with Apo, Camiguin is just eighty miles away. Some sailing and some motoring and the morning after we stop at the huge white sand bar sticking out the NW side, also called Medano Island. The sand is white-white-white and the water bright turquoise: Great picture/wallowing in water time.
The anchorage is by the town of Mambajao. We find a place with beach huts that lets us shower, then lunch, internet etc.
What to do in Camiguin are mostly waterfalls, hot springs, climbing the peaks of mount Hibok-Hibok and Catarman. We’re way too mellow for exertion, and decide instead to concentrate on lazing around the really high, cool and refreshing waterfall, eat out, while I and Fernando also score some fresh Herbal Provisions.
Fernando’s time (and money) has run out, so he needs to go look for another job maybe in Malaysia or Singapore, or maybe returning to Ecuador to his off-road car racing and chicken farm (where the chickens have weak hearts from growing too fast and so can die by the dozen at the slightest stress).
Being badly in need of a paint job and god knows what else I want to check out Cagayan De Oro where it is rumored a boatyard is. We motor there and arrive in the afternoon. We are surrounded by sea gypsies from the Sulu Sea, the city is filthy and chaotic, and we can’t find the boatyard. The morning after at 5 AM we are on our way out, relieved.
Another stop in Camiguin by Sagay. Lovely town, we spend a whole afternoon playing with children while drinking at a street bar. Then on to the Eastern part of Bohol, motor through the inside part of Danajon bank and just about one month from leaving we are back in Cebu.
Cat departs and it’s time to get some work done, so after asking around we head to Port Carmen where two months will be spent getting bottom and topside paint done, a new floor and some other repairs done while almost coming to blows with the American psychotic asshole running the boatyard. In this time I also get hospitalized for yet another infection to my right leg.
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