This is the last installment of a 3-part write-up of my May 2017 trip to Tubbataha Reef Natural Park. My visit wouldn’t have been possible without the help of MY Sakura and Let’s Dive Palawan, as well as the management and team behind the Tubbataha Management Office (TMO), the Tubbataha Protected Area Management Board (TPAMB), and the Marine Park Rangers. Thank you! Also, special thanks to Kevin and Camille for letting me peek into their dive logs.
The currents are strong at Tubbataha Reef. These are brought about by tidal shifts and weather-driven surface currents. Divers feel it underwater, especially during dusk. Sometimes, you struggle against the current. Most of the time, you let yourself be taken away.
Typical surface current during our stay at the reef.
It can be overwhelming. But then, you remember that these currents are why sharks and other marine wonders are around. Their circulation pattern has also made the marine park Sulu Sea’s seed bank, increasing the fish biomass and income of neighboring fishing villages by 100% and 90%, respectively.
The impacts of protection are tangible. And, it’s not just in the eyes of divers and marine scientists. Stakeholders are feeling the difference too. This has buoyed the continued support for Tubbataha’s protected status.
Managing a Marine Treasure
At the center of all this is the Tubbataha Management Office (TMO), under the leadership of Angelique Songco. Angelique is a diving professional who took on the challenges of managing what is perhaps the most expansive and isolated marine protected area in the country.
Alongside the team, her TMO transformed what had been an ineffective co-existence of stakeholders, brought together only by bureaucratic declaration, into one that truly upholds the reef’s protection. The core belief that has driven her team to success is that the costs and benefits of protecting Tubbataha Reef should be shared equitably amongst stakeholders.
This ruffled some feathers at the start, particularly those directly affected by the fishing ban. But, as soon as nature was left to thrive, the bounties of nearby fishing areas increased. They also began to receive compensation from the donor community, as well as their share of diver and dive boat conservation fees.
It wasn’t smooth sailing, by any means. But somehow, the tides shifted towards change. The diverse sectors involved came to a deeper understanding of their crucial roles in the preservation of the reef. There was finally a realization that, in protecting Tubbataha Reef, they are protecting their own interests.
Fastcraft used by the marine park rangers.
Protecting Tubbataha Reef
A continuing challenge for TMO is safeguarding Tubbataha’s 97,030 hectares of ocean. Even with its protected mandate, there are still elements who dare to encroach to poach. In fact, 80% of the management’s funds go to law enforcement.
The municipality of Cagayancillo offers the first line of defense through its improved fisheries and fishing practices. With more than enough catch using sustainable fishing practices, local fishermen are less tempted to go into the protected areas.
The Marine Park Rangers, made up of members of the Philippine Navy and the Philippine Coast Guard, provide the next (ultimate) level of protection. These are highly qualified uniformed men who went through TMO’s ecology/marine environment and park management course. The training program was developed to shift from the common military mindset of securing the country to securing fish and other wildlife.
Ranger Station, Tubbataha Reef
According to Angelique: “We pay close attention to the reefs as most fishers do not fish in open ocean, where productivity is much less. There are 9 rangers in Tubbataha at one time, sometimes up to 12. They have done well, so far.
“We need to work around the limitations of installing people there year-round. Water is a major consideration even if we are surrounded by water. Space and the supplies are also issues. The Navy and Coast Guard are only able to assign a few people at a time. So far, that small contingent of marine park rangers has been successful in maintaining the values of the reefs.”
For the Love of the Reef
It is hard to doubt the success of the TMO. The team has changed minds and transformed hearts –moving people from poaching to protecting, from being takers to men and women who will give time and effort in making the conservation initiatives of the Tubbataha Protected Area Management Board work.
Perhaps this is how the tides move. After all, for those of us lucky enough to have visited this marine treasure, you can’t help but let the currents take you. You fall in love with the ocean, all over again. And, you will do all that you can to protect Tubbataha Reef.
MY Sakura’s Trip 11 2017 guests with the reef rangers. Photo used with permission from Peewee Bundang.
Sources: Tubbataha Reefs: A Marine Protected Area That Works. WWF-Philippines. Quezon City, Philippines 2006
This is part 2 of a 3-part write-up of my May 2017 trip to Tubbataha Reef Natural Park. I joined MY Sakura and Let’s Dive Palawan’s 11th Tubbataha trip for the 2017 season.
Tubbataha Reef Natural Park lies at the center of the Sulu Sea. It is 150 kilometers southeast of Puerto Princesa (Palawan), the jump-off point for most Tubbataha liveaboards. My Tubbataha 2017 trip took 6 days and included 4 diving days.
MY Sakura
Life on the Boat
A six-day trip would seem like forever if you were on a boat with people who didn’t get along. Fortunately, Team Pinoy and Team Foreigner got together like old friends, bonding over food, card games, booze, and our shared Tubbataha experience.
Team Pinoy was very Pinoy, indeed! I sat down with them for the first time at the boat’s outdoor lounge. Kevin had asked each guest to take their essentials; he needed to store the rest of our bags within the boat’s hull. So, the Manila-based barkada of Peewee, Kim and Sheryl brought out this huge box, half the size of a balikbayan box; and proceeded to empty it of snacks (local chips, chocolates, and candies) and a bottle of Tanduay rum. They stored the snacks and rum under the lounge’s table for easy access.
Of course, being Pinoy, they brought enough for everyone. The first snack was opened and shared within 10 minutes of emptying the box, as we waited for coast guard personnel. We had snacks after every meal (even when meals came with dessert), while on surface intervals, and during our nightly movie or card game get-togethers. We even had snacks to accompany the mid-afternoon snacks served by the kitchen crew. I loved it!
Camille provided the boat’s music, and I chuckled at watching the Kevin-Third-Camille love triangle unfold. Third’s the man in the middle – LOL! Kar Wai (a UK national of Chinese descent) and Gabriela (a Denmark-based South American woman) were like long-lost amigas. Luke was my drinking buddy but I could never keep up. He was on a mission to top his previous record of 83 cans of beer within 6 boat days. He succeeded – barely.
With MY Sakura’s crew and dive guests for their 11th Tubbataha 2017 trip. (Photo used with permission from Peewee Bundang)
Isolation
While it truly felt like home in the company of new friends, my favorite time was very early in the morning. This was our quiet time – a time when we settled into our wakefulness, alone.
I spent a part of it sitting in front of the boat, on the edge of one of its hulls. There would usually be birds diving for their morning meal a few meters away from me. Their squawks rang loud against the boat’s hushed tones. The sun awakened too; and from where I sat, I would just let it all sink in.
Isolation can be a blessing. For Tubbataha Reef, it has done wonders.
Cagayancillo, Tubbataha’s municipality, is 130 kilometers away. While motorized boats from this area, as well as Puerto Princesa and others, used to spend days in the reef to reap its bounty, this had since been disallowed when Tubbataha became the country’s first national marine park in 1988 and a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1993.
This gave Tubbataha the time, distance and legal support needed to reverse the creeping ravages of dynamite and cyanide fishing, and an encroaching commercial fishing industry. It was left alone; and, in isolation, it thrived.
Towards the end of May 2017, I set out for Puerto Princesa, Palawan to join the crew of MY Sakura and Let’s Dive Palawan for their 11th Tubbataha trip of the 2017 season. It was my first time at Tubbataha Reef Natural Park. This is part 1 of a 3-part write-up.
On Our Way
I hardly slept the previous night, not because of anticipation – no. Our boat was on the move. We left the port of Puerto Princesa a couple of hours late, waiting for coast guard personnel to hop on to do their inspection.
A man on a seabike approached. I thought he was one of them, a guardian of the Philippine seas stripped of an adequate budget. Fortunately (or unfortunately), he was a Palaweno businessman. He said he was the first one to import the seabike into the country. We chatted a bit and promised to get in touch on Facebook.
It was around dusk when the coast guard finally came. Dive masters Third and Kevin were already done with their pre-trip briefing on accommodations and meal arrangements. Luke, an Australian who loved his alcohol, had opened one of his Don Papas. Fellow divers Peewee, Kim and I drank shots. Luke had cracked open his first beer.
Third and Kevin do their pre-departure briefing.
Around four coast guard men moved around the boat; they then took Let aside for a talk. Let was the lady boss at Let’s Dive. Along with her partner Dino, they managed the dive shop and boat.
Briefing with Dino at Puerto Princesa. Also pictured: Gabriela and Kim. Camille, Third and Luke are in the background.
We were to go through bad weather, according to the coast guard. They had deliberately delayed sending us off to spare us from the brunt of the storm.
True enough, twenty minutes into the trip, the setting sun was replaced by storm clouds. Rain began to pour. Drops became pellets, soaking the outdoor lounge/dining area/alternative sleeping quarters (yes, I am referring to one small open area), where we hung out.
The sky, as we leave Puerto Princesa.
That night, we all slept on our assigned beds. This was indoors; and because of my claustrophobia, it wasn’t that comfortable. Past midnight, I ventured outside and found a few of the guests sleeping in the open area. The rains had stopped and you just needed to dry off a couple of cushions.
I joined them and tried to sleep. The moving boat amplified the chill of the ocean breeze. Still, it was better than a closed-off bed. This would be my choice sleeping area for the rest of the trip.
The First Morning
We woke up at 6AM. Our boat was approaching the North Atoll of Tubbataha Reef, where the day’s dive sites were located. It was time to prepare for our first dive.
Tubbataha morning.
We were at the Jessie Beazly dive site, right next to its namesake island. Seabirds hovered above us. There were shrieks in the water. Only one other dive boat was there; and a couple of divers were done with their morning dive. We heard talks of a whale shark. I eagerly snarfed down my cup noodles. (Breakfast was served after the day’s first dive – I was hungry.)
The dive guests were divided into two groups; Third and Kevin each had a team. My crew – Luke, Kar Wai, Gabriela and I – was dubbed “Team Foreigner.” Let joined us in a few dives.
“Bakit naman ako nasama dito?” (“Why was I added to this group?”) I teased Third. Ah, but of course he would choose his partner, Camille, to complete Peewee, Kim and Sheryl, a diving barkada from Manila. Anyway, the foreign guests were a fun bunch.
We were all set; our gear, loaded onto the Team Foreigner rubber boat, and our boatman Mon was at the helm. On cue, we rolled over and did a negative descent into the realms of Tubbataha Reef.
Getting to Know Tubbataha Reef Natural Park
In a recent National Geographic article, UNESCO’s World Heritage Centre Marine Programme head Fanny Douvere said: “A photo can never capture what you actually experience (at Tubbataha).” I agree.
Tubbataha Reef Natural Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the only one that’s a natural marine park. It is around 97,030 hectares of ocean where marine biodiversity is most abundant on earth. It is home to 396 recorded coral species, 479 fish species, 10 seagrass species, 9 whale and dolphin species, 79 algae species, 7 species of breeding seabirds, and 2 of 7 marine turtle species. The marine park is marked by two of the largest true coral atoll formations in the country, the North and South Atolls, and the vastness around it. Sand cays and lagoons dot the area, offering shelter to seabirds and the Reef Rangers.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Sharks in abundance, endless reefs alive with corals, majestic drop-offs and exciting ocean blue…. Every dive – even if it were at the same site – offered something amazing.
For our first day’s dives, I was struck by living corals as far as the eye can see. I had never seen reefs and seabeds with so much life.
I’d never seen so many shoaling and schooling fish.
Shoaling fishSchooling fish
A tigershark (my first) swam 10 meters below us. A silvertip shark (she was huge) greeted us at the drop-off.
Silvertip shark
Surface Intervals
I remembered each one’s excitement as we got back onto our rubber boat. “Did you see the tigershark?!” “Did you see the hammerhead?!” “Did you see the whaleshark?!” Did you see?! We were kids again, seeing the world with amazed eyes.
Let and the barracudas
I noticed how Let, who’d probably gone to Tubbataha a hundred times, got visually excited underwater and on the surface. She would open her palms and clasp them together, as if in gratitude. She tailed whalesharks and took her time gazing at schools of barracudas. With Kar Wai, they went deeper in hopes of spotting a hammerhead. On the boat, you sensed joy in her voice, as we reported on what had happened, what we saw.
If there’s a best way to capture the wonders of Tubbataha Reef, it would be through the awe it inspires from its guests. It is a privilege to visit the reef and I would always grateful.
Sources: Tubbataha Reefs: A Marine Protected Area That Works. WWF-Philippines. Quezon City, Philippines 2006
Like many divers, I have been on the trail of whale sharks. From Malapascua to Ticao Island, Apo Reef (Occidental Mindoro) and Sogod Bay, I took Travel Dive Connect where there was the possibility of a whale shark encounter in the wild. I had imagined such encounter to be one of those gasp-inducing wow moments. And, true enough, it was.
Donsol 2017 – which I now call “my best dive trip, so far” – was my lucky turn, a first encounter with whale sharks that’s also a bitter-sweet glimpse of an idyllic municipality built around ecotourism.
Donsol, Sorsogon, dubbed as a “prime example of whale shark ecotourism,” is the perfect getaway for people who dream of whale shark encounters in the wild. You don’t need to be a diver to swim with one. Just make sure you’re brave enough to jump into the water when your BIO (Butanding Interaction Officer) tells you to. Take your snorkel, mask, fins, and GoPro along; it’s going to be amazing!
Donsol is also a tourism-dependent municipality being swept by change. From commercial challenges brought by a shift in tourist preferences to climate change, some strains are apparent.
Kuya Omar and guest.
Kuya Omar and the Butandings
Omar Nepumuceno, one of the longest-serving BIO in the area, is passionate about whale sharks and his work. A whale shark tour boat with him as guide is a special one. He does more than the regular spiel, entertaining his guests with whale shark tidbits and demos (yes, he has miniature whale sharks and a whale shark tooth) as the boat makes its way along Donsol Bay. Even during our happy-hour drinking sessions, he would regale us with his butanding stories and how working as BIO changed his life. You feel his gratefulness and love.
However, like a few others I’ve talked to during this trip, he has been feeling a bit frustrated. Whale shark encounters during the previous weeks were scarce. The last they saw whale sharks was a couple of days before I arrived. And, on the day I joined a tour, only 2 boats were able to interact with that day’s lone whale shark. I was on the third boat – we didn’t make it in time.
We discussed what might be happening as he downed shots of his favorite Empe Light. “I really don’t know. The water might be too cold right now and there is no food… There’s nothing I can do.” He talked about leaving, and listed opportunities he passed up in the past. He said that, like others, his income has decreased in recent whale shark seasons.
Omar vented a little about some Filipinos too. He noticed a decline in local tourists and attributed this to the popularity of Oslob. “That’s what’s wrong with us,” he said. “We want the sure thing, regardless of the environmental cost.”
Whale Shark Ecotourism and Donsol
Whale shark tour boats wait for their guests.
Since it was discovered as a whale shark haven in 1998, Donsol has moved up from fifth-class to become a first-class municipality. Central to this development is the long-standing cooperation between the local government and WWF-Philippines in the implementation of a holistic conservation program. Efforts range from whale shark photo-identification and tagging to community-based environmental education and livelihood programs.
Donsol’s “democratized” community-based whale shark ecotourism has been a success, generating more than Php35 million in yearly revenue, as of 2005. Kuya Omar is one of its beneficiaries. In past seasons, BIOs have collectively logged more than Php3 million in yearly income, outside of tips. Omar uses his share to maintain a good home and take care of his family. He has bought essentials, like the motorbike he uses daily.
Alan Amanse, another long-serving BIO, said: “I sent my four children to college.” Then, there’s Jasmine Yanson, mother of seven and boatman’s wife, who said: “Tourism gave us a big boost…. We were able to buy an outrigger boat and household appliances – plus my children were able to finish school.”
Raul Burce, WWF-Philippines Donsol Project Manager, explained further: “The economic benefits of embracing conservation cannot be denied…. A simple decision to protect whale sharks has greatly improved Donsolano lives. This is the local economy that whale sharks built.”
First Time In Donsol
As a first-time visitor, I got a good sense of what they all claimed. Life is good in Donsol – for everyone.
Donsol sunset.
Travelers get a laid-back easy tourist experience. There are accommodation options for a range of budgets. Transactions are clear-cut and fair, from bike rides to whale shark tours. You don’t feel like you get hustled into anything.
Everything is conveniently organized too. Like, if you wanted to swim with whale sharks, you go to the Whale Shark Center at set times (7AM, 11AM and 2PM) to book a tour. Local officials assign the boat, boatman and BIO. They even get other travelers on your boat so you don’t pay the whole fare (Php 3,500 per boat, maximum of 6 people). The same goes for the firefly cruise, as well as day trips to nearby falls and beaches.
At night, you can go into town for some karaoke or cheaper eats. Or, head to the popular Barracuda for drinks and dancing. I chose to stay at my resort to take advantage of their happy hour. Kuya Omar brought his girlfriend and tubs of pulutan a little later in the evening for our kwentuhan.
The couple seemed – to me, at least – to embody the comfortable life afforded by ecotourism. They both have dependents they are able to support. They can travel in and out of the province when necessary. Both work in tourism but without the competitiveness (or desperation) I sometimes see in their counterparts in other regions. They are giving to visitors and their peers.
Kuya Omar, in particular, had been very generous. It wasn’t just the food he cooked and brought to us; nor the time he took to talk to me and see that I was alright. He so wanted our group to see a whale shark that our boat cruised Donsol Bay almost two hours longer. He showed his appreciation to the boatmen by giving them more than half of his BIO fee. When I tried to add to his fee, he refused and said he’d be insulted if I insist on tipping him.
What Happens When Circumstances Change?
For someone who vented nightly about wanting to leave because of diminished incomes, Kuya Omar’s actions were contrary. I teased: “Is it really about your earnings?” That’s when he revealed a deep-seated anxiety over changing circumstances, something that possibly began a couple of whale shark seasons ago.
According to WWF-Philippines, there was a decline in the number of whale sharks that visited Donsol in recent years. This translated to just one or two whale shark sightings on lucky days, over stretches when there were zero sightings. Tourist arrivals also reflected this trend, with decreases by as much as 35% annually.
BIO Elmer Quizon said: “There was a time when we had a 90% to 95% interaction rate. When our boats returned to shore, visitors were ecstatic to share stories about their six or more whale shark sightings. The last two years were difficult – there were days without any sightings at all.”
While some said that whale sharks were back, my Donsol experience reflected the innate unpredictability of whale shark tourism, especially when you are trying to uphold sustainable practices.
Changing Patterns
Manta ray diving is another reason to visit Donsol, Sorsogon.
Whale sharks are migratory by nature, and go through long-term migration paths. They come to Donsol mainly because its waters are seasonally rich in planktons, the butanding’s main food, as well as fish eggs and small fish. The discharges of municipality’s river are food for these planktons.
Climate change, as well as contrarian whale shark tourism practices elsewhere, indirectly affects their migration patterns.
According to WWF-Philippines’ Burce: “Though climate change has no direct impact on whale sharks as it has on coral reefs and oceanic acidity levels, it alters sea temperatures which affect the food sources of apex predators like whale sharks.”
The practices in Oslob, Cebu may also be indirectly blamed for the altered migration path towards Donsol. The Cebu municipality’s whale shark feeding is said to have changed the whale shark’s wandering ways. Because humans have intervened, making food available year-round for whale sharks, they have stayed longer than Oslob’s natural whale shark season of just 60 days. The longest-staying whale shark as of 2013, named Mr. Bean, was in the area for more than a year.
This kind of human intervention, on top of documented violations of Republic Act 9147 protecting whale sharks from harassment, not only affects whale shark tourism elsewhere. It also has negative effects on whale sharks, in terms of their food diversity, nutrition, breeding cycles, behavior and survival.
Donsol, 2017
And thus, my Donsol 2017 visit is bitter-sweet. I was one of the lucky ones as I had the option to dive when interactions via whale shark tours were unsuccessful. I came back ecstatic, vowing to come back to Donsol next season. Others, however, had their hopes dashed by limitations in budget and vacation days, and nature’s unpredictability.
Donsol’s shoreline.
There are other reasons to visit Donsol, of course. As changing patterns continue to affect the municipality’s tourism industry, the community has diversified their tourism offerings. AA Yaptinchay, DVM, MSc and Director of Marine Wildlife Watch of the Philippines, said: “It is good that whale shark tourism is seasonal in Donsol; the community does not need to rely on it 100%. They have diversified with other tourism offerings such as island hopping, agri-tourismo, SCUBA diving etc. As (in) all tourism destinations, change is expected. They would have to evolve with the times.”
But, what if you really wanted to see a whale shark? This is a real dilemma faced by travelers, especially when you need to consider your budget and time. That’s when a conscious choice has to be made.
According to Yaptinchay: “Whale shark interaction in their natural state is a wonderful experience. Tourism provides this opportunity. But if not done well, tourism could also be a threat to these protected endangered animals. That is why it has to be done responsibly (follow guidelines) and managed well (sustainability). The former is more up to us, including choosing the sustainable sites like Donsol, Puerto Princesa, and Sogod Bay…. We have no control of media and public interest. We can just inform them of the truth and impacts and conservation issues for them to make the right choice.”
I write my piece with this thought in mind. I am still on the trail of whale sharks. My Donsol experience has affirmed my fascination with these majestic sea creatures. But, like many, I am not immune to time and budget constraints. I told AA during our chat that I was thinking of visiting Oslob in the near future. I am now rethinking my plans.
Whale shark tourism is a lucrative industry. Just look at Donsol, and its predecessor Ningaloo Coast, Western Australia. And now, look at Oslob, which is currently monopolizing the tourism limelight at the cost of long-term repercussions on the very creature it depends on. If my travel budget and words were votes, I would cast them wisely and support places that put whale shark conservation first.
I was following a story when I chose Islas de Gigantes and Sicogon Island as this trip’s destinations. I knew about the Ayala development at Sicogon’s Barangay Buaya and I wanted to see the island as it was before high-end resorts, manicured beachfronts and jetskis take over. I also knew that Gigantes was its neighbor. Any development in Sicogon was bound to seep into this chain of islands. That’s how cancer works… err, tourism, I mean.
Too heavy too early? Sorry 🙂 Let me backtrack by saying that I also came to eat. As in, if you love scallops, and huge crabs and squid, you should take the next plane to Ilo-Ilo! Stay at Gigantes Hideaway, run by former Carles tourism officer Joel Decano; and your tummy and hunger for adventure would be well cared for.
Joel and the staff of Gigantes Hideaway
Hideaway was the best – well, hideaway in Gigantes Norte, the north side of the group of islands. No mobile signal, simple accommodations and very generous with their seafood, the place was perfect. It also meant an audience with Joel, a controversial local figure and the man who first explored the Gigantes sites for tourism.
The Route
My trip to these islands was easy. From Manila, I flew to Roxas City; from where I got on a flying FX van for Bancal, Carles. (It normally took more than two hours to get to the Bancal jump-off. Somehow, I managed to get there in a little more than an hour. Lumipad ang FX!)
1st stop: Roxas City
There was a Carles tourism hut at the Bancal port. The people who welcomed me were friendly and solicitous. They put together what I needed: a boat ticket for Gigantes and a permit to visit Tangke, a hidden lagoon that was the highlight of any Gigantes island-hopping trip. (I didn’t even know I needed a Tangke permit.) I didn’t think it was a big deal.
At Bancal’s tourism hut
Apparently, this was an uncommon route. Many would opt to use the port of Estancia, which was an hour further from Bancal. It offered an afternoon boat ride to the islands, and a bustling wet market for supplies. The municipality also had banks and ATM machines. Of course, being outside the jurisdiction of Carles, no one from the tourism office was around to meet travelers.
Again, to an outsider, this did not seem like a big deal. Route options were typical, especially for places like Gigantes, which only had one boat per day to/from connecting ports.
Boat from Bancal to Gigantes Island.
On the Bancal boat, I met a few local DENR employees. They were taking their Mindanao counterpart around. I mixed in with them when the counterpart, a nice older woman, “ordered” my solo-traveling mug included in their groufie. Introductions followed; and I was able to talk to them about Gigantes and Sicogon. That was a lucky encounter.
A Gigantes Welcome
We parted along a nondescript Islas de Gigantes beach where our boat docked. There was no marker or anything that indicated the place as the port, except for a handful of people waiting and around 5 motorbikes. And definitely, there was no tourist facility similar to the one at Bancal port.
The group of islands retained its rustic feel, despite the steady flow of tourists. Aside from not having the requisite traveler facilities, their roads were largely unpaved and big enough only for two motorbikes. There were no big houses nor concrete edifices to give it a more touristy vibe. I stayed in a small nipa hut big enough only for a single bed and a small bathroom. (It was their best hut, and I had a porch with a papag and a hammock. It was awesome and I hung out here a lot.)
My welcome meal. Yes, solo travel po ito. Para sa akin lang yan hehe. Each meal set at Hideaway is made up of at least 4 seafood dishes.
There was also zero mobile and internet signal in almost all of Gigantes. For the few times I really needed to go online, I had to take a 30-minute hike to the “call center,” the barangay’s highest point. An enterprising family had taken advantage of the location, and expanded their sari-sari store to include a couple of bamboo benches.
To get anywhere, you either walked or hired motorbikes. Life was slow and simple. And, I didn’t really mind. I found the disconnection liberating.
The Birth of A Giant
Bakwitan Trail/Cave
My host, Joel, had a lot to say about the development of local tourism in Gigantes Island. He’d been on both sides. A former OFW, he found it hard to re-enter the fishing industry in his home province. This moved him to explore the tourism possibilities of Gigantes. His success led to the thriving Hideaway Inn; and later, a government assignment under the municipal tourism office.
“There was an obvious decline,” Joel said. “I remember Gigantes as having seas so abundant that fish would literally jump into the nets of our fishermen.” Now infested by commercial fishing boats, their harvests dwindled and fish got smaller.
Mountains of scallop shells.
The quality of Gigantes’ seascape also declined. Some coastlines were now trashed with strewn scallop shells. Picturesque limestone cliffs, islets and sandbars sat on bare ocean floors that, I imagined, were once teeming with corals and fish.
The DENR rep I met on the boat took only a little prodding before she confessed the island’s shameful past – that, in spite of its seeming abundance, its fishermen resorted to illegal fishing practices in order to keep up with their commercial counterparts. These practices had been put under control, according to her, “but there is still a need to organize the locals, especially those who work as guides.”
Indeed, the island had turned to tourism to make up for their dwindling fish catch. Joel started with a few select guests. He prepared tour packages that included Gigantes’ highlights; and picked up guests, usually foreigners, passing through Boracay. His home was the first Hideaway.
This was noticed by the municipal government, and an alternative industry began.
Once On This Island
Kuya works as a guide/concierge for Gigantes Hideaway.
My experience ran counter to some of the DENR rep’s claims, particularly that one about getting the locals organized. There seemed to be an established system among the local tourism stakeholders – or, at least those who worked with Joel, the former Carles Tourism Office head.
The same packages that helped initially bring travelers to the island were still in place. I needed to stay a few extra days to hang out with Joel and do a few things outside the typical itinerary.
But, it’s all good. Even for solo travelers like myself, the options at Gigantes were varied and affordable. Set charges were implemented for everything – you won’t need to haggle or worry about overpricing. Guides worked like your personal concierges, arranging and practically doing everything for their assigned guests. They coordinated my day trips with their barangay-based peers, motorbike drivers and boatmen. They scheduled and served my meals, and even bought beer for me. Up until I boarded the boat for Estancia, where I caught another boat for Sicogon, my guide was on call to make sure I was comfortable. It felt safe. And, except for a Tangke incident I partly witnessed, it felt orderly.
Highlight: Tangke Hidden Lagoon
Gigantes Island is made up of Gigantes Norte and Gigantes Sur, and a few clusters of smaller islands. Most of the inns and resorts were located at the Norte island. Norte had the port, Bakwitan cave and the old lighthouse, recently restored by the ABS CBN Foundation. (If you love adventure and a little challenge, don’t miss Bakwitan cave. Of course, make sure you’re fit enough for some hardcore spelunking first. Why hardcore? Kasi wala kang harness.)
You got a feel of Gigantes Sur when you go island-hopping. Must-see islands included the picturesque Cabugao Island and Antonia’s Beach. And, Tangke Hidden Lagoon, for many, was the highlight of a Gigantes island-hopping trip. It was something you’d imagine only existed in movies.
Tangke Lagoon, Gigantes Island
Just think of the bluest waters – chest or chin-level safe, depending on the tide – and surround it with the browns, grays and greens of limestone cliffs; and the blues and whites of sunny skies and the vast ocean. A stunning lagoon in the middle of nowhere.
Your approach would not reveal this sea lover’s prize right away. You anchored along volcanic boulders. Take a few steps inward, onto boulders and rocks, careful not to slip; and you’d be rewarded with the breathtaking sight.
Visitors only had 15 minutes to enjoy Tangke. This was enough time for a few pictures, the mandatory selfie (which I did not do), and a short swim. If one dared, you could do a 20-feet cliff jump close to where boats docked.
The 15-minute limitation came with the lagoon’s increased popularity, and was just recently implemented. Along with this, a permit to visit was now required. The idea was to control tourist traffic so that Tangke could remain pristine. However, as noble as this was, it seemed to have forgotten important components in any conservationist action: the tourist experience and the local tourism stakeholders.
The Tangke Incident
You could only get the permit at Bancal, practically requiring travelers to pass through the young port, one that lacked amenities such as completely paved roads. The requirement was also loosely implemented.
Permit to visit Tangke
In the past – as in just a couple of weeks before my visit – the actual paper copy of the permit was not strictly required. As long as visitors paid the environmental fee through their inns, they could visit the lagoon. When I was there, however, an incident with Manila-based lawyers highlighted the flaws in implementation. (The lawyer part stuck with me because they vowed to sue the local government.)
Bantique Island Sandbar
This group stayed at Hideaway so they also had their concierge/guide to take care of booking their island-hopping trip. All was in place, and Tangke was their last destination. Before this, they docked at Bantique Island Sandbar, an idyllic strip of sand that’s perfect for relaxing and tampisaw. Here, they were approached by a tourism staff member (he wore the official vest). He said that they weren’t on the list of guests; and that they needed to pay twice the fee amount because they didn’t get the permit from Bancal. They obliged; they wanted to see Tangke.
Receipt in hand, they sailed for the lagoon. Tourism officers there however turned them away. They wanted the actual permit. Frustrated, they went back to the sandbar to confront the staff, and at least get their money back. This too was denied.
At The Foot of The Sleeping Sicogon Giant
Cabugao Island, the most photographed island in Islas de Gigantes.
This could just have been an isolated incident, the unfortunate repercussion of having tourism personnel who lacked training. But, then again, how many turned-away travelers would it take before the municipality actually considered what it took to get to the island chain and our limited route options? When would they involve Carles stakeholders – those who actually lived in Gigantes and interacted with its tourists – not just as foot soldier, but also as policy planners and implementors?
Joel asserted that there was a disconnect between the municipal government and the people of Islas de Gigantes. This showed in policies and government services (or lack of) that didn’t really reflect the needs of the locals. According to the former Tourism official, there had been several incidents in which their welfare was strewn aside for the sake of bureaucracy. Joel mentioned the ABS CBN/ Gina Lopez (now the current DENR chief) brouhaha wherein the private organization’s donation to Decano and the locals was questioned. This resulted in the project’s cancellation, leaving them with little tourism assistance.
Joel Decano of Gigantes Hideaway.
Now, there was the Tangke incident. If anything, all this was indicative of an ill-prepared Carles in the face of a coming tourism boom. An industry giant was at the helm of Sicogon’s awakening. Nothing would stop the tourist surge.
“At the very least, they should get someone from Gigantes who could be a voice, a representative of the island,” Joel said. “We are already organized. We just have to regroup, and get more involved in tourism policies. After all, we – our people and our natural resources – are the ones directly affected.”
The sleeping Sicogon giant would awaken soon. It’s time for the municipal government of Carles to act.
Sicogon Island lies in wait.
Source:
Joel Decano of Gigantes Hideaway Inn
Asluman, Gigantes Norte,
Islas de Gigantes, Ilo-Ilo
Should you have more questions or are interested in booking, please send him an FB message or PM me for contact info.
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