All around Manila

We left at the break of dawn to catch the Jeepney to the airport. Our plane left early, which gave us some extra time to play in Manila before heading back to Taipei the next early morning. We went back to Francois’s place, dropped our bags, took showers, and grabbed Francois, before heading out to explore. In one day, I finally managed to actually see Manila. We started in the posh district nearby Francois’s flat. This area pretty much looks like any mall/ shopping district you might see in suburbs like Plano, Texas, or Overland Park, Kansas. It has Starbucks, California Pizza Kitchen, and lots of shops that would fit right in back in the States. We ate pizza, and took a cab to the Pearl market across town. Hint number one about Manila: when taking a cab insist on the meter, and get out if the driver wants to negotiate a set price. The pearl market is full of stuff…lots of Chinese fakes, clothes made in Thailand, and of course pearls. Not knowing anything about pearls, I refrained from getting swindled, and just bought a couple of shirts instead.

On to Chinatown next, where we learned from Francois that the Philippines has a rather large ethnic Chinese population—around 10 percent. This group, called the Tsinoys by the locals, is apparently largely integrated into the remaining population, but there is still a Chinatown, with Chinese shops selling Manila-style Chinese food and baked goods. There is a large church in Chinatown, known as the Binondo Church, that was originally built long ago and then destroyed and rebuilt several times starting in 1762 when the British invaded Manila, then restored in 1854, then damaged badly in World War II, and finally restored to its current state.

From Chinatown, we traveled by metro to Malate. This bustling area is emerging from what appears to be a somewhat rough neighborhood. The streets are lined with restaurants, bars, and clubs. We found a pub and enjoyed a few bottles of San Miguel, before moving next door for food. While eating, we told Francois about our experience at the KTV hut in Coron Town, and so we were inspired to seek a KTV spot in Malate. We sang Toto, Madonna, Michael Jackson---all the standards. A few hours and much cheese later, we emerged laughing and hoarse. Onward we moved to the rock club where the Filipino cover bands play. This is a phenomenon in the Philippines…cover bands. When you listen to the radio and hear Hotel California, it’s probably not the Eagles’ version. Anyways, so there they were, a really talented cover band with some hip guys and one scantily clad female. They even took requests. It was great. At one point the band turned to the only table full of foreigners and asked where we came from. Since Francois, Werner, Hugh, and Francois’s coworker were all South African and outnumbered the rest of us, they shouted “South Africa!” The lead singer paused, and seemingly confused said, “South Africa?!” A guy at a neighboring table approached Werner and in disbelief asked if they were really from South Africa. Werner affirmed this fact and even presented his passport. The guy was still confused that three white guys could be African, and then asked me if we were really from South Africa. I also confirmed that the three gentlemen were indeed from SA. He again pointed out that they were white, and so, not wanting to go into the entire colonial history of Southern Africa, I told him, “You know the Spanish came here long ago, right?” “Yes…?” “Well, the British also came to South Africa a long time ago.” “Ohhhhh……I see.” He didn’t seem confused anymore, but as we were leaving he insisted on getting Werner’s phone number.

We turned in pretty late, and had to rise quite early to catch our flight back to Taipei later that morning.

A warship, an oil tanker, and a Cross on a hill

Most of our friends departed Coron on Friday morning, and so Werner, Hugh, and I were the three remaining from our group of nine. We started our last day in paradise with two wreck dives. These two were both much larger than the two we experienced earlier in the week. The first one, Akitsushima, was a massive warship lying on its side. It had been damaged quite severely, and apparently sank quickly due to the wreckage. A lovely reef grows on the side facing the sun, and even the sides are lined with life. Again, we saw giant lionfish, angelfish, and scorpionfish…but this time we also played around with a seahorse. The dive master knew exactly where to find them on the top of the ship, which now faces the side. This first wreck was a bit uncomfortable, as some of the spaces to explore inside this wreck are quite small. I have yet to get used to being in a tightly enclosed rusted box 30 meters under the surface.

The second wreck, Taiei Maru, was less intimidating from my perspective. This oil tanker was the largest of all our wreck dives. The inner sections of the ship had these towering compartments with ladders descending into the deep. I couldn’t even see the bottom of the boat when we swam along the ceiling. One side of the ship was snapped apart from the rest, and the debris, shrapnel, and wreckage spreadin

g across the sea floor at that section is amazing to see. All of these chunks and pieces of twisted metal are now encrusted with corals and teeming with fish and other sea creatures. Since this ship is just huge, the scale of everything boggles the mind. For more information about the wrecks, including some sketches, you can check out this website. I think the names might be different, as I found many people use different names….since they were really guessing at the Japanese names.

http://www.diveright-coron.com/sites.htm

When we returned to Coron from our last dives, Werner and I set about exploring the town. We searched for the trail leading to the cross on top of a hill framing the back of Coron Town. After some random wandering, we asked some locals to help us find our way, and managed to find the stairs leading upwards. The climb isn’t really too much effort, and the view is worth the trip. Much of Busuanga Island and the surrounding Calamian Islands are visible from the top. We stayed long enough to watch to sunset.

When we returned to our hotel, we found Hugh peacefully enjoying a massage in the room. The hotel has an affiliation with a professional massage therapist, so it’s actually real massage, not “massage” wink-wink. At a price tag of less than 10 USD, we had to sign up. Ahhh….and we didn’t even have to leave the room.

No corals, no tourists

We rejoined with the big group, chartered a banca, and headed for a more distant island recommended by the banca captain. The captain offered to have our lunch prepared, we just had to bring the food. Prior to departure, we stocked up on food at the local outdoor market stalls near the dock. Loaded with friends, vegetables, chicken, sausages, drinking water, and a big fish, we were ready for the beach. This island took nearly two hours to reach by boat, but it was worth the ride. The beach itself was mostly shells, rather than sand, but the palm trees clustered next to the shore were all strung with hammocks. Ahhhhh....a hammock, a warm breeze, the soft splashing waves, and a novel created the perfect relaxing environment--so relaxing that most of us fell asleep and didn't realize that our food had been prepared and was waiting for us at the picnic table!

The owner of the island encouraged us to snorkel amongst the islands surrounding corals, boasting of their beauty. His claims were not unfounded, as these corals are definitely gorgeous. Lush corals of all shapes and sizes form an underwater crayola garden of color. I spotted tiny fish busily moving about their reef homes. A blood-red clownfish seemed a bit miffed and uncomfortable by my presence, and nervously swam up to my mask a few times perhaps in an attempt to protect his family of little clowns. The corals stretch along a very shallow shelf near the shore, and I believe they extend down a ridge that would make for a beautiful dive. After my brief sample of his reef, the owner asked, "You liked it?" I told him, "Yes, the corals are spectacular!" He proudly explained, "I protect the corals. Many years I protect the corals. No corals, no tourists." He's definitely got a sustainable business plan I can support. I learned that many of the reefs, like the one at CYC were terribly damaged by fishing practices involving dynamite. This is not allowed nowadays, but it takes reefs decades to regenerate from these types of loses.

The day passed lazily, but at the same time surprisingly swift. We returned rather late, and the drivers had to carefully navigate back to Coron Bay in the dark. After some more meat on a stick, we showered and readied ourselves for a nice meal at one of the best restaurants in town, Cafe Coron. We were not let down by everyone's recommendation of this spot, as the pizza, kinilauw, and salads were top.

Wrecks!

After an amazing day of diving, we were ready for more, and ready to experience the Japanese World War II wrecks for which Coron is so famous. This time we split from the non-diving crew, and headed out to see what happens when a Japanese gunboat and cargo ship fall to the bottom of the ocean. Our first dive site was East Tangat, which is a gunboat or submarine chaser that had fallen fairly close to the shore of an island, and therefore is situated in fairly shallow water. The tip can actually be seen from the surface. This is apparently a good starter wreck dive, as the boat wasn’t too large, and there isn’t too much to see on the inside. For me, beginner or otherwise, it was still a fantastic new experience. The boat is completely covered with marine life. We saw these enormous bat fish, which look like massive angelfish, angelfish, lionfish, and many other creatures I wouldn’t be able to name. We briefly went inside a few parts of the boat, and though a bit dark, it was still possible to see the inside. It’s amazing the difference the sun makes, as the inside has far fewer animals than the surface of the boat.

The second wreck, Olympia (original name Morazon), was a cargo ship of some kind, and though it is large, it isn’t one of the largest in the Calamaian Islands. Our dive master, Gerd, gave us some interesting information about this particular ship. Apparently, it was made by the British in 1908, and was later captured by the Japanese in the early '40s, reaching its ultimate fate at the bottom of the pacific. I particularly enjoyed this wreck, inside and out were spectacular sites to see. The We passed around the outside shortly before going inside. This being the first big wreck I had experienced, everything was strange and exciting. Since the ship sits on its side, the inner sections are all distorted, rusted, and somewhat mysterious and I wouldn’t have been able to identify what I was looking at without assistance. There is a big hole in the middle of the side of the ship, which is now facing the sun. When you enter what I believe is the boiler room, you see these massive round iron structures, and with the light suddenly pouring in from above, the effect reminds me of an underwater cathedral. Stunning. The whole experience is incredibly overwhelming, because there is something fascinating to see in virtually every direction—twisted metal, rusty shrapnel, chambers within chambers, random floating fish. This is all happening while you are attempting to control your own movements, and not bump into any poisonous scorpionfish.

The outer section of the boat facing the sun was an amazing sight to see, as the newly formed corals are teeming with colorful, vibrant life---silver schools of yellow fin tuna cascading in the waters above, lionfish the size of my head, blood red clownfish prancing among the anemones, angelfish. I wish we had had more time to explore the outside, as I enjoyed that even more than the strangeness of the inside. It’s amazing how this wreck changes and adapts to the sea life that envelops it.

In the evening, we ate at the local fried chicken place. Mina found a local dance club creatively called "Hard Rock," though I am positive that it holds no affiliation with the famous chain. The plastic chairs and tables, along with the extremely local flavor make it far more interesting. Exhausted from the dives, I turned in early, but I managed to click some photos of my friends enjoying the party before heading out.

Alien landscapes in hot water

On the third day, we finally organized our first dive. Werner and I were hoping to see a wreck to begin with, but decided that a warm-up dive would be better for a start. The day’s plan was to visit the CYC reef near the mangrove beach we visited a couple of days earlier, and Barracuda Lake. The reef at CYC is ok, though I think all reefs are beautiful, even if this one is not world class. It was good to refresh my skills, as I had only been diving once since my open water course in Thailand about 18 months ago. Our friend Hugh was completing his open water course, so the lighter dives were probably a better choice for all of us. Our non-diving friends accompanied us with snorkel gear and kayaks so that they could also enjoy the islands.

The Barracuda Lake is an amazing dive. The experience begins by climbing a series of steep, sharp rocks while wearing all of our scuba gear. Never having hiked up volcanic rocks wearing a heavy scuba tank before, this proved to be a challenging task. When the steps were particularly tiny and at a significant distance apart, I needed a bit of a push from behind! The surface and setting of the lake appear quite similar to Kayangan Lake . This is the other volcanic lake found on Coron Island, but this one has layers of geothermal water. When diving, you see these massive underwater volcanic rock formations that seem like what some alien movie might recreate. The floor in one part is lined with this silky, silty, jelly-like sediment that is strange to feel. As you float among the alien rock formations, you pass between the hot water—about 38 degrees celcius—and the cooler surface water. Each time I descended into the hot water, a blanket of warmth enveloped my entire body. It’s definitely an unusual, yet amazing experience. At the far bottom, apparently the water is tea-colored with zero visibility. We only went down about 30 meters, and enjoyed extremely clear water with excellent visibility. It was great to dive again!

When we returned to Coron, we hired some trykes to take us to the salt water hot springs on the other side of the island. Against the recommendation of the tryke drivers, we piled five people on each modified motorcycle vehicle. This proved to be challenging, as the bikes struggled to hoist all of us uphill and we had to get out and walk while Werner helped the driver with a push a couple of times. We arrived at the springs and relaxed in the piping hot water for an hour or so. The spring is right next to the shore, and is in a sort of natural-ish pool. It has concrete sides, but a rocky bottom. The super-salty, super-hot water was a relaxing way to end the day.

Beauty on the beach

The rest of our crew arrived late on our first day in Coron, so once they arrived we pretty much finished a beer together, ate some local fried chicken, and went to bed. The next morning, we didn’t really get moving until late morning, which is too late for diving, but early enough for island hopping. With a larger crowd, we hired a larger banca and were taken to a couple of different beaches. The first was a small, but long island, with a nice beach and trees stretching along its length. This islands corals were quite nice for snorkeling, and the beach was great for lounging—apart from these massive orange ants that went about attacking Werner’s hammock! We relaxed at this beach for a few hours before moving on to our first private, meaning pay-beach. We immediately discovered the benefits of paying, as Banol beach is truly stunning. Fluffy white sand, perfectly clean, nice picnic tables, and secluded. Aside from our group, there was only one family of three on the beach. The waters gently flowing onto this beach were also brilliantly clear, full of corals, sea urchins, and volcanic rock. This beach is located on the side of Coron Island, the same island with the two volcanic lakes, and so the beach is secluded by these same pointed rocks that hide the lakes. It makes for a lovely scene, and a wonderful place to lie on clean, soft pearl-white sand and feel the warm breeze whisk across your face.

When we returned to Coron, we had our first of many pork kebabs from the street ladies. I suppose you can’t really go wrong with meat on a stick covered in sticky barbecue sauce for about 15 cents. In the evening, we ate dinner at a lovely restaurant called the Mermaid, which sits on the end of a dock in Coron harbor. The food was delicious, particularly this Filipino dish called Kinilauw, which is a raw tuna salad in a strong citrus-vinegar sauce with lots of garlic, onions, and chilies. This dish is not for the soft-stomached. Yummm.

Busuanga

Heeding the advice on my e-ticket, we arrived at the Domestic terminal in Manila two hours before our flight. We might have been a bit overzealous, being the first to check in for the flight to Busuanga. As we sat, dazed in the airport terminal awaiting our boarding call, over the speakers we hear a voice inviting all passengers to join in the morning Mass. A priest emerged and led the airport congregation in Mass, and song. All of the Filipinos rose at varying times to sing hymns to the recordings played over the loud speakers. I don't know how long the Mass continued, as a man holding up a "Busuanga" sign silently flashed the congregation, which I assumed signaled that we were to board our plane.

The Asian Spirit plane that took us an hour south to Busuanga might be the oldest plane on which I have ever ridden. I sat backwards, facing the plane-ful of passengers. This is an unusual feeling, because when the plane takes off, your body is thrust forwards (which is backwards for the plane), and it's necessary to hang on in order to stay seated. When I went to use the lavatory, I found the toilet seat was broken. As with most people in the Philippines, the staff were pleasant and friendly. Most importantly, however, we touched down safely, so overall the flight was all right.

The Busuanga airport might be the most primitive one I have yet to visit. The airport consists of a single runway, and a small building that functions as the terminal. It's not so much a building, but rather a sort of pavilion with bars around it. We waited for some guys to load the luggage onto a pushcart, wheel it over to the pavilion-terminal, and lay them on the ground outside. I reached to grab my bag, but one of the workers motioned for me to step around to the other side of a short fence where he would hand me my bag. Outside the airport, we found the Asian Spirit Jeepney already full, and so were directed to negotiate with an independent Jeepney owner (the only one there) for a journey into Coron Town. Considering that the runway appears to be the only paved surface for miles, I figured that this was a perfect opportunity for this guy to rip off the tourists stranded at this airport in the middle of nowhere. I was pleasantly surprised when he quoted the same 150 pesos per person as the regular Jeepney. So, we rode the Jeepney for about 45 minutes along a dirt road through the island. On our way to town, we passed lovely forests, a few streams, one house and some grazing cattle. I think we found the out-of-the-way haven we were seeking.

Coron Town is a modest place with a few lodges and dive resorts. Many tourists stay on other, smaller islands in the seas facing Coron town. We had hoped to do this as well, but were unable to locate an island with affordable, available accommodation. We did find a place that had space for all nine of the folks in our party. On our way back into town, we ran into a guy who hooked us up with a banca (a kind of boat), and a cooler box filled with beer and water. We were ready to go island hopping! Our first stop was Kayangan Lake on Coron Island (not to be confused with Coron Town, which is on Busuanga Island). This volcanic, pristinely clear lake is nestled beautifully among the pointy peaks of the island and is reached by climbing over a hill and then descending down into the lake. The lake's water is just a trifle salty, and was the perfect temperature for a refreshing swim. Along the edge where the trail from the other side of the hill leads, is a long wooden bench, built upon the porous volcanic rocks lining the edge of the lake. These rocks are dotted with a kind of shelled animal and what appeared to be freshwater lobster, though I could only see their feelers.

After a long swim, the banca swifted us off to another island called CYC (I never managed to find out what these letters actually mean). This public island has a couple of beaches, sandy and shell. The sandy beach has a patchy group of mangroves and, unfortunately, a thick carpet of garbage in some parts. Being public, I suppose that means everyone can use it, but nobody cleans it. We pretty much spent the rest of the afternoon lazily hanging out on the beach, dipping into the clear ocean waters, and absorbing the warm sun we had been waiting to see for so many weeks.