January 17th, Saturday. Snorkeling at Balicasag Island
We set our alarm for 5:00 A.M. for a 6:00 A.M. pick up to go dolphin watching and snorkeling. By 5:10, we are in the dining room for a pre-dawn breakfast and I call home and talk with Alisha. My beloved lizard, Show Off passed during the night and I know Alisha is as devastated as I am. Last night I dreamed about holding him to my chest, and I so wish I could have said good bye and comforted him.
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| Show Off |
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| Show Off and Marty in 2011 |
Shadowed by Show Off’s death, this will not be our best day. Our 6:00 A.M. pick up is late and we are confused, not sure if we are to be picked up by a van or if an outrigger boat is coming to the beach to collect us? At 6:45 a boat arrives at our beach and we wade out and board a small outrigger that is lacking a muffler, making the 45 minute ride out to see the dolphins’ ear shattering. Apparently at dawn each morning, pods of dolphins feed at a particular spot between these islands and we are late. When we arrive, a half dozen outrigger boats, all larger than ours, are following the dolphins but in spite of being late, we see several pods of dolphins leaping in unison as they hunt for their morning fish.
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| Dolphins |
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| Dolphin Feeding |
We motor on to Balicasag Island and arrive at 8:30 A.M. and wade to shore. The island is quite small and not particularly pretty. A dozen village owned restaurants are just inland from the coarse coral sand beach and our two catamaran boatmen, apparently related to one of the restaurant owner, steers us towards one particular restaurant with rickety tables shaded by tarpolins stretched between the trees. We order coffee and sweet bread and ask our boatmen what the plans are for the day? A few small boats are anchored at the edge of the coral reef and a dozen snorkeler’s bob in the water, but the morning is cold and overcast and snorkeling doesn’t seem very appealing.
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| Balicasag Island |
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| John, Balicasag Beach |
Art and I walk inland along a narrow trash laden dirt pathway into the village. There are a few goats with darling young calves, chickens and roosters. The houses are a mix of bamboo, correogated tin and cinderblock, all in need of paint and repair. There is an abandon lighthouse, replaced by a tall beacon light tower and a tiny immaculate church. I surmise that the tourists seldom venture to the interior of the island because we are greeted several times with surprise and one woman asks; “Lady, where are you going?”
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| Balicasag Village Goats |
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| Balicasag Light House |
We return to the beach and negotiate a price to see the giant clams and to rent flippers. Snorkeling just off the main beach is included in the price of our package but we have heard that there are giant Tridacnid clams in another area and suspiciously, fins are not included as part of the snorkeling gear? We settle on $800 pesos, down from $1400 pesos for fins and a guide to take the four of us out to the edge of the reef. I am the first one in the water and the snorkeling is amazing. I swim along the rim of the reef, coral gardens to my right and a deep abyss to my left. The reef is pristine with table top coral growing and terraced down along the edge of the reef down into the abyss. Beds of stag-horn coral are the home to schools of tiny, blue-green and orange Damsel fish, undulating with the current. There are clumps of brain coral, beds of ribbon coral and countless anomenie each with their unique species of resident clown fish. The sea is calm and the boat follows us as we swim and snorkel together. John free-dives down along the edge of the reef and I see his long lean body jet down, Go- Pro in hand to explore the life along the edge of the reef. The Go-Pro has a digital timer and he uses this to time his free-dives, allowing himself 35 -40 seconds underwater before knowing it is time to resurface for air. I am surprised to see several scuba divers swimming up from the deep along the edge of the reef and know John is pleased with himself to be able to free drive 20 - 25 feet down. I spot an anomenie unlike any I have ever seen before; it is bright purple, bulbous and about 24” in diameter. John swims down and photographs it, gently prodding it’s soft membrane with the lens of his camera.
I startle a sea turtle, foraging at the edge of the reef, and it turns and swims out to sea, seemingly in slow motion with remarkably graceful strokes of its flippers. I swim after it, slightly anxious about leaving the presumed safety and shallows of the coral reef and entering the deep blue realm of the bottomless open ocean. I call out “Turtle” and John follows, soon overtaking me with his strong kicks as he pursues the turtle. We have been snorkeling for over an hour and I am tiring and growing cold and my left leg cramps unbearably. I call to Art who in turn signals our small boat and our guide paddles to my rescue but I am unable to pull myself into the high wooden boat. Happily, John is focused on the turtle and does not have the Go Pro aimed in my direction as our guide hoists and pushes me onto the boat where I land hard and awkwardly. ( The large purple bruise on my hip is now the same color as the unusual purple anemone I spotted earlier.)
Art is snorkeling in circles just above a pocket of giant clams. Our guide rows over to the spot and I slip back into the water to see the tridachnids. There are a dozen of them in this area; 18” – 24” across with their shells open exposing purple fleshy lips and undulating spouts filtering the water. We caution John to keep a safe distance; one can imagine the Hollywood underwater nightmare of a limb getting caught in the huge jaws of these clams and the diver having just a few seconds of air remaining to wield a knife and cut off the ensnared limb. This is the most remarkable snorkeling experience I have had and Art tells us that this is what the reefs off Okinawa were like when he was a kid growing up.
It is 12:30 by the time we are back onshore and we order lunch at our “designated” village restaurant. They have stowed our back packs, phones, cameras and money and it is all accounted for. We order two vegetable platters (a mistake) and French fries. We watch several teen age kids with grimy hands, peel the vegetables before they are stir fried in copious amounts of oil. After lunch we wade back out to our catamaran, plug our ears with Kleenex and make the hour ride back to our hotel. On the return trip, we see other resort hotels along the shore and one particular beach area that looks to be happening.
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| John, Trike to Alonha |
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| John, Trike to Alonha |
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| Art, Paying for our Trike Ride |
At 4:30 we set out with a plan to go to Alonha and walk up the gravel road from our hotel to the main road connecting Pangalo Island with Bohol Island. At the crossroads we hire a tricycle to drive us the 7 or 8 kilometers into town. Joe and I squeeze side by side onto the narrow seat of the side car and John contorts his long body and folds into position on the floor at our feet. Art rides side saddle behind the driver on back of the motorcycle powering our tricycle pod and we take Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride into Alonha. Motorbikes, tricycles and vans zip past us and by American standards, this overloaded tricycle ride is dangerous but it is also great fun and we arrive in Alonha safely.
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| Alonha Tourist Shops, No Photos Allowed |
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| Alonha Night Market |
After dinner, Art and Joe take a trike back to our hotel but John and I wander along the beach front restaurants people watching and talking. John puts his arm over my shoulders and I ask him if he is not embarrassed to be walking with his mother; and he reassuringly replies both verbally and with his body language that he is proud and happy to be here with me. We eventually choose a tiny, colorfully lit bar for our final drink of the evening and talk about life and love.
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| Alonha Bar |
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| Alonha Bar |
When we leave and walk up the main street, there are many waiting trikes but one driver in particular has been keeping an eye out for the rumored mother and son combo and tells John that his father told him to wait for us. We negotiate the $200 peso trip down to $150, squeeze into the sidecar and make the bumpy ride back to our hotel.
There may be some glitches to our ferry departure to Dumagete tomorrow morning.
*There is a category #1 hurricane in the Northern Philippines that may affect the seas and interrupt the ferry services. Joe calls our tour agent to make tomorrows pick up time earlier so that we will have earlier ferry options to Dumagete Island.
*Pope Francis is visiting Tacloban, the area that was hit by the hurricane in 2013 and he has been forced to cut his visit short because of this tropical storm.
* The annual Sinulog Festival in Cebu is this weekend and ferry traffic and tourism is at its height for Cebu and the neighboring islands.
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