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
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.
Danjugan Island is an island off Negros Occidental that had been built up in my mind as paradise. Limestone cliffs, lush forests, pristine lagoons, birds, corals, fish, and hardly anyone around – I wanted to be there.
The first time I saw a glimpse of Danjugan was online. A friend of a friend tagged a friend; you know how things go on Facebook. It was a video of baby black tip sharks swimming in one of the lagoons. The snorkeler with a camera was right there with them and got so close. I was fascinated and wanted to try it.
The Long Road to Danjugan
I planned my recent Visayas trip around Danjugan Island. There were several stops but the idea was to station myself somewhere close.
Turtle Beach, Danjugan Island.
Danjugan is at least 4 hours away from the nearest airport, Bacolod City. It is around 7 hours away from Dumaguete City. So, my best option was to stay for a couple of nights in Sipalay City. A bus to the jump-off point in Barangay Bulata in Hinobaan, Negros Occidental from Sipalay only takes an hour. A 10-minute boat ride after and you’re on the island.
This way, I can explore Danjugan’s 43 hectares longer. Island management offers two options: 1. day trip for around Php 1,700 and 2. an overnight stay for Php 2,700. Overnight fees are inclusive of 3 full meals and snacks, guide services and accommodations.
My stay in Sipalay is also an opportunity to dive Danjugan. There is no functional dive facility on the island. However, there are 2 accredited dive centers that can bring guests to the island’s Marine Protected Areas (MPAs). One of which is Easy Diving Resort of Punta Ballo, Sipalay. They don’t schedule dive trips ahead so I was really lucky to join a Danjugan dive the day after I checked in.
Everything went as planned and according to schedule. I was able to do some dives around the island, as well as in Punta Ballo. I got to Danjugan for my overnight stay early the next day. And by nightfall, I had seen, swam and kayaked all over.
Paradise Island
Danjugan Island is a dream island. It is paradise. I remember being awake at 5 in the morning and standing along the strip of rocks where boats docked. I was at the center of it all. The sea was in front of me; Moray Lagoon, behind. Birds chirped and played on trees that lined the cliffs on my left. I waited for the staff to wake up. Above their rooms were tall coconut trees, where giant bats flew to. And right there, I felt immense gratefulness.
Sunrise at Danjugan Island.
Off to Typhoon Beach.
I saw most of Danjugan the day before with Tatay Ruben, the island’s 70+ year-old Bantay Dagat rep. We walked from Moray Lagoon, where the learning center was, through the forest and onto Turtle Beach. This strip of blue, white and green was separated from Typhoon Beach by a cliff. A man was working there when we came; he was fixing the bridge between the two beaches.
They had camp facilities at Typhoon Beach. This was where I did my snorkeling.
Snorkeling at Typhoon Beach.
It was also our take-off point to get to North Lagoon by kayak. North Lagoon was where baby sharks usually played when in season. There were no sharks when I went.
North Lagoon, on a kayak.
After breakfast the next day, Tatay Ruben and I walked to the Watch Tower. We again took to the forest, passing through the 4th and 5th lagoons this time. At the tower, I was treated to a 360 degrees view of paradise.
View from the Watch Tower.
Paradise Gained
It took a lot of work to get all this together. Aside from the learning center and cabanas at Moray Lagoon, there are a couple of single-floor concrete structures at Typhoon Beach. Marked paths, bolstered with bamboo strips and rocks, snake through the island. It feels safe to explore, even at night.
The rare Tabon Bird (Philippine Scrubfowl), safely exploring the island.
The man-made structures blend in with nature. For instance, the open-air cabana where I stayed the night uses a limestone cliff as foundation and wall. Human presence doesn’t feel intrusive. It even feels like life around the island revolves around its other inhabitants. I love this about Danjugan.
I also love the story of how the island came to be. It used to be owned by a businessman who harvested its limestone rocks to use in Negros Occidental’s coal plants. A part of the beach was already being leased to a group of divers who saw the destructive practices ruin the very reason they leased space in the first place. Aside from mining, people took to illegal fishing practices and poaching endangered species. The divers were so moved that they parted seas – so to speak – to look for funds so they can purchase the island.
This gave way to the non-government organization Philippine Reef and Rainforest Conservation Foundation, Inc. (PRRCFI), the current owner and manager of Danjugan Island. To this day, despite temptations and an offer to become the next Boracay, they stay true to marine conservation and keeping Danjugan as it should be.
Paradise Endangered
Unfortunately, this has not stopped the frailty of humanity from rearing its ugly head.
Tatay Ruben, introducing me to the island.
On the way to the island to dive with Easy Diving, I saw fishermen catching fish at the Twin Peaks dive site, a no-take zone that was hidden behind tall cliffs. I told Tatay Ruben about it and his mood changed. He drifted between defensive and frustrated. Maybe I was mistaken about the distance, he suggested. I wasn’t. I dropped the subject, knowing how bad he already felt about the community’s attitudes toward conservation. This was one of our first topics of conversation.
Tatay Ruben was quite open about his struggles as Bantay Dagat. A big part of this concerned the community that was home to Danjugan Island. According to Tatay Ruben, the people of Barangay Bulata were not of the same mindset as him. While he thought of his children and grandchildren, the community was more concerned with the now. The island was teeming with fish – this was opportunity for a bigger catch.
Tatay Ruben had routinely captured perpetrators for decades; and they routinely skirted the law and Danjugan’s MPA mandates.
He spoke about the disinterest and neglect that seemed to prevail among majority of the community members. He ranted about how they insisted on today’s harvest, disregarding future harvests for their children. He ached at how they seemed to be taking the sea for granted, with their irrigation and production wastes emptying out into the ocean.
Barangay Bulata’s side of the ocean.
I saw this for myself. It was low tide going to and back from Danjugan, and I had to wade through Barangay Bulata’s side of the ocean for about 5 minutes. It felt dirty. I remained polite and hid as I doused my legs in alcohol. I had blisters on my feet and was afraid of infection. The state of the water, a few meters away from paradise, was that bad.
Hope
There is hope. PRRCFI regularly conducts the Danjugan Island Environmental Education Program (DEEP) for teachers and children of Hinobaan, Cauayan and Sipalay. This is a fully-sponsored program that introduces them to the wonders of the ocean and marine conservation.
Teaching children and their teachers
I don’t see a better way than this. Education changes attitudes. Realities expand beyond the now. People begin to care enough to think of alternatives. There is hope.
Reef Ranger Jessie Delos Reyes approaches one of the pyramids.
By commercial definition, Calatagan in Batangas is not a dive destination; and its chain of underwater pyramids is not a “dive site.” There are no dive centers nearby. No accessible source of air tanks and gears for rent. No experienced dive guides and boatmen who know where creatures lounge, eat and sleep at specific times of the day.
But, if you’re a diver or a brave snorkeler, you must see the underwater pyramids at least once in your life. Not for the sea creatures and fauna that inhabit its waters. Growth/regrowth of marine life around an artificial reef takes a long time and it’s just been a little more than 5 years for the pyramids.
Go to the pyramids to see the output of millions of pesos in private funding, and years of dive volunteerism. Go to see the renewed commitment to marine conservation by a community that has felt the effects of their illegal fishing practices.
Go so you’ll see a majestic testament to what can be accomplished when government and non-government organizations cooperate with private individuals to save a dying ocean.
The Underwater Pyramids of the Philippines
A pyramid building block, made of rocks, dead corals and cement, and weighed 80 kilos.
The Underwater Pyramids of Calatagan is a chain of pyramid-shaped artificial reefs that snake a small area around 200 feet from the shore, at about 60 ft. depth. Each pyramid rises up to 18 feet, and is made of rock/dead coral blocks that weigh around 80 kilos each.
It took years to put the pyramids together. CAP (Conserve and Protect) Oceans, a now-defunct NGO, was at the center of it. It led a community initiative to establish an artificial reef within Calatagan’s abused waters. Years before, dynamite fishing was rampant and eventually took toll. Fish harvest declined; coral reefs were destroyed. An artificial reef was the centerpiece of the fight against illegal fishing. This was supported by barangay leaders and most members of the community.
Dive volunteers came mostly during the weekends to help out. In the years it took to complete the pyramids, their number reached more than 1,500. They were housed for free at the base camp, the annex to the home of the pyramid’s reclusive benefactor, the recently departed Vicente Madrigal Warns.
It was Warns who thought of designing the reefs after the Egyptian architectural wonder. They initially used cement blocks the size of refrigerators, which were eventually buried by sand and had zero growth even after several months. Warns thought that patterning the reef after the pyramids will not only channel their timelessness but also withstand the restive nature of the sea.
To Reef or Not to Reef
Pyramid blocks with more than 5 years of growth
The establishment of artificial reefs has been practiced since the 1600s (Japan) and is generally an acceptable way of allowing the ocean to renew itself. Artificial reefs function mainly as fish shelter. They also attract smaller organisms that are food for fish, thereby increasing fish count within the location.
Of course, it doesn’t come without criticisms and some disadvantages. The success of an artificial reef is dependent on its material, location and water movement. And, despite good intentions, in certain cases they might do more harm than good.
The Osborne Reef in Fort Lauderdale, Florida is a good example of an artificial reef gone bad. In the 1970s, the reef project was expanded using 2 million used tires held together using nylon or steel clasps. The steel clasps eventually gave in to time and ferocious storms. Tires went loose and polluted the waters of the Florida Panhandle and North Carolina beaches. Massive cleanups were necessarily undertaken. Tire reef projects in Indonesia and Malaysia suffered the same fate.
Majesty Under the Sea
Fortunately, the Underwater Pyramids of Calatagan is a success, so far. It has survived countless storms, the ocean’s movement and the passing of its benefactor.
This video was take in June 2014 and showed impressive growth since I dove the same site 5 years ago.
However, there are real threats to the pyramids surviving a few years more. Several blocks of the highest pyramid (video above) were destroyed by a few local fishermen for fish that have taken shelter within them. There is also a revival of illegal fishing in some parts. All while CAP Oceans — because of Warn’s passing — has lost its teeth. There are no available means of running after perpetrators, no operating facility to house and equip volunteers, and no funds to empower Bantay Dagat efforts.
Marine conservation — even with artificial reefs already established — is a continuing effort, after all.
At this point, the Underwater Pyramids of Calatagan needs the renewed support of the diving community. Calatagan no longer offers the cushy perks of a Warn’s supported project — no free lodging nor equipment. But it can give you a dive experience that’s unique and truly awe-inspiring.
Maybe, through this kind of diver support, the community can see an earning alternative, something to rekindle their interest in being the site of the Philippines’ majestic Underwater Pyramids.
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Want to dive the pyramids? Contact Calatagan Reef Ranger Jessie Delos Reyes: mangingisda_1976 (at) yahoo (dot) com (dot) ph.
I also love the story of how the island came to be. It used to be owned by a businessman who harvested its limestone rocks to use in Negros Occidental’s coal plants. A part of the beach was already being leased to a group of divers who saw the destructive practices ruin the very reason they leased space in the first place. Aside from mining, people took to illegal fishing practices and poaching endangered species. The divers were so moved that they parted seas – so to speak – to look for funds so they can purchase the island.
