SANTUARIO DE TAKLOBO

By Arnel Mirasol

It was Boston Gallery's Andy Estella who tipped me about the snorkeling site in Masinloc Bay, Zambales. He said that the site is rich not only in corals but also in giant clams, or taklobo- it being a giant clam sanctuary. (below right, a giant clam I saw at Anilao, Batangas)

When I relayed this information to Bert Falsis, he immediately scheduled a trip to that place. It was May 2010. Bert took only three with him, since it was just a reconnaissance trip - me, his son John, and John's former classmate. The boats that took passengers to and from San Salvador Island (called Pulo) are moored at the dock just beside the market. Bert rented a boat that can accommodate more than ten persons for 600 pesos. The trip to the clam sanctuary, which is just off San Salvador Island, took less that ten minutes. Our boatman dropped anchor at a place where he thought the clams are. The place, indeed, is rich in corals of all types. There are tabletop corals, staghorn corals, star corals, and brain corals, among others.

But no giant clams. We have anchored at the wrong place. Cautious snorkelers that we were, we dared not venture very far from the boat to search for the clams. I can say that the farthest I've snorkeled from and around the boat was about fifty meters. It was near noontime when we gave up our search. We were hungry. There is in the middle of the sea, near the island, a big cottage on stilts built by Masinloc Mayor Fidel Edora. Excursionists can use it for free. We ate our lunch there. Although we didn't see any giant clam, I'd say that we'd had a worthwhile trip. The corals and the cottage on stilts in the middle of the sea certainly deserve a revisit.

THE BUTANDING EYEBALL REPORT

By Arnel Mirasol
(January 15, 2014. Oslob, Cebu)

Well, it finally happened - my close encounter with the whalesharks or butandings (tuki to the Cebuanos), that is. I am writing in Oslob, Cebu. I and my Papa Nene were in Barangay Tan-awan early yesterday morning. We went straight to the briefing area for the short lecture on the dos and don'ts of whaleshark watching. The briefing was done by a girl who looks like a high schooler to me, but who to my surprise delivered her spiel in straight and correctly-accented English. After paying the 500 pesos snorkeling fee, I was handed my life-vest and was ushered to the boat which will take me to the whale shark watching area about two hundred meters away. Visitors are required to wear life-vests while on the boat, which the competent swimmers can remove when they want to snorkel.

I wasn't able to take pictures underwater because I don't have an underwater camera. You could rent one from the people there, but I chose not to because I find the camera rental fee (P500) rather steep. I don't know about the others, but I also feel short-changed every time I think of the 500 I paid for the mere 30-minutes I spent snorkeling there. That amount of time was too short for a sea freak like me, who can spent hours snorkeling without getting bored. Some whale shark watchers and snorkelers may have felt short-changed, too, especially those who've come all the way from Western Europe, Russia, Korea, and other foreign countries, who are being charged 1000 pesos each. But then again, perhaps, it was only the penny-pincher in me speaking. It's possible that the other snorkelers actually found the snorkeling fee cheap: and if ever they find 30-minutes too short, well, no problem they might say, we'll pay another 500 pesos, or even one thousand, for another 30-minutes of snorkeling time.

Although I was only about two hundred meters away from shore, I can see that I was in deep waters. It was at least 20 feet deep there. I saw in the area where I snorkeled at least four different butandings. There are others circling the other boats. The butandings looked juvenile, because they are just about 15 feet in length. Big Mama, the biggest (she's said to be as big as a bus) and probably the matriarch of the group, wasn't in sight. The butandings are gentle all right. They didn't mind the snorkelers swarming about and only focused on eating the baby shrimps (uyap) provided them.

Brief though it may be, my close encounter with those would-be leviathans was an unforgettable experience all in all for a sea freak - to whom seeing even tiny aquarium fishes in their natural habitat (below) is already worth the hours spent at sea.

Above photo by Dr. Froilan Ocampo, shows me and a dive guide of the Planet Dive Resort in the waters off Anilao, Mabini, Batangas

STURM UND DRANG

By Arnel Mirasol

The exuberance of the young amazes me. Despite the lightning that stitched the night sky during the thunderstorm, they still found reasons to whoop up and do a joyful rain dance (above), while we four oldies (me, Jun Diaz, Bert Falsis, and Isko dela Cruz) just huddled under our so-called tent brooding, and regretting the day we agreed to join this snorkeling tour. The day started pleasantly enough. Although the sun shone hotly, the camping site we chose under a talisay tree was well-shaded and cool. A few hours after lunch the kids went snorkeling. We followed them an hour after.

But near dusk, I had a foreboding of the rough time ahead of us when I saw above a gigantic mass of black rain clouds that seemed about to envelop us. And sure enough, when darkness fell, the rains fell too, punctuated now and then by thunder and lightning. This got me worried especially when the girls (Girlie Rivera and Neyt Geminiano) started to complain of the cold. Now, I have always been aware of how dangerous hypothermia, or loss of body heat, is. It can be fatal, if the person who's soaking wet doesn't get the chance to change into dry clothing at once- and stay dry afterwards. I knew of one such case involving a mountaineer from San Beda, who died of hypothermia at the summit of Mt. Halcon, in Mindoro, during heavy rains.

Fortunately, the rain stopped around twelve midnight, which gave us the chance to light the bonfire. The blazing fire lifted our spirits, which prodded the kids who previously did a rain dance to next do some sort of thanksgiving dance around the bonfire (above right). We went to sleep, deeply, around two a.m., and if I hadn't woke and urged them to break camp just before sunrise, they would have slept well on until the sun is high (below).

So, what's my verdict on Isla Balaki. Well, the island is scenic enough, with beige colored sands finer, as Tonton Tornea said, than Boracay's. Talisay trees which provide good shade abound, although thorny aroma bushes are plentiful, too. Therefore, the natural beauty of the place should be reason enough for us to celebrate our stay there. But a few mistakes were made. Our spirits wouldn't have been dampened even by heavy rains had the boys (my sons Bahgee and Kai, Topher Buerano, Isra Lamsen, Ryan Pagao, and Jose Yu) followed my advice to bring with them large waterproof sheets which we can use as tents ; and also if Isko had followed my suggestion that he assembled his dome tent (which could housed four people or more in cozy comfort) on higher grounds, instead of near the edge of the water. (below left)

As it happened, when the water rose (during high tide) and the rains fell, he had to dismantle it. In his haste, he broke one or two of his tent's flexi-rods, which made it impossible for him to assemble the tent again as a dome. So, he just folded the tent flat and tied the four corners to the bushes. It was under this so-called leaking tent, which hardly provided us shelter from the rain, that the four of us oldies huddled, depressed. I have also seen that the waters around the island is indeed rich with fishes, because there were several spear-fishermen with good catches to show.

Yet, despite all that, I say that I'm not returning to Balaki to snorkel, simply because there is no good snorkeling to be done there. Snorkeling is best among the corals, and not among the sea grasses which seem to surround the island. The coral growths are about half a kilometer away, in rough waves, where I wouldn't dare venture. I'm sure, too, that Jun Diaz won't return because he said that it was the first time that he had an experience as frightful as that, and that he'd be taking Stresstabs once we had return home. His first words to me when he woke up were, "Survived tayo." (We survived.) Bert, too. won't be returning. He said that his idea of outing is one where you sleep in air-conditioned comfort in a nice rain-proofed cottage. Bert even proposed that we return that very night to the Zambales mainland, which I flatly rejected, of course. I reasoned that it was risky business- many things can happen to the boat and us if we risk crossing the rough sea at night, with all the bolts of lightning being hurled around.

I'm not sure about the sentiment of Isko (right, in green)- because during the time when the rain was falling the hardest, he kept on muttering (as some sort of mantra, perhaps) the words, "Ang saya-saya" (This is fun). His attitude prompted Jun to say that it's good to have Isko around in times of crisis- because he is a positive thinker.

TO THE SEA, OF COURSE

By Arnel Mirasol

We won't forget the summer of 2010. By we, I mean us, close friends and compadres, who were classmates at the University of the East School of Fine Arts in the 1980s. It was that year that we again saw Arnel Dolatre. He left for the U.S. in 1991. The whole time he was there, we never got word from him on how he was doing, and what he was up to. It was only around 2008 that we learned that he is already a nurse in New York. After two more years, and after several emails, Arnel D. finally made up his mind to see us. Arnel D. loves snorkeling- like all of us. He was my snorkeling buddy in Marinduque (see photo above). So, after the initial welcome dinner in a restaurant, where else would our group go to, pronto, but to the sea.

Bert Falsis (below, with hood, with his Pareng Mandy) invited us to their beach house in Cabangan, Zambales, (right) which would served as our base for our trip to Capones Island. After staying overnight in Cabangan, we left early by car for San Antonio, where the boats shuttling back and forth to Capones and other nearby islands are.

Since there were eleven of us in the group- Bert Falsis, Arnel Dolatre, Jerry Dean, Mandy, Oca Magos, Jojo Garcia, Isko dela Cruz, my sons Bahgee and Kai, Ryan Pagao, and me- we have to rent three boats. That's because only four passengers are allowed per boat. The trip to Capones took about twenty minutes. Capones is a big rocky island. It looks forbidding, because what you'll see are mostly rocky hills with little or no vegetation at all. But my sons, Bahgee and Kai, together with their friend, Ryan Pagao (below right), did a little trekking and explored the other side of the island, which they reported as being a bit wooded. Since we have little time- we don't plan to stay there for the night- the rest of us forgo exploring and went snorkeling right away.

The tide was very low. It was difficult going to the deeper part because the water near the shore was clogged with yellow-colored succulent-looking sea weeds. Traversing that patch was the tricky part for those of us not wearing fins, surf shoes, or flip-flops, because there was the risk that they may step on sea creatures that may sting. Anyway, none of us got stung, and all of us got around to the aquarium-like deep part where the water is so clear, and where multicolored reef fishes abound. There is a long trench there, where we tried to chase fishes.

We ate lunch after an hour or two of snorkeling, and after eating we proceeded to the other highlight of the trip, which was drinking. We held our drinking session under a cave-like rock formation. There, protected from the heat of the sun by the overhanging rocks, we passed around shots of Fundador Brandy. There was great merriment, of course, and much bantering too.

We left Capones at around 3 pm. Something unusual happened when we were back at the resort in San Antonio to take our shower and change clothing. At the shower, I tried to start a conversation with Isko dela Cruz, who was my buddy that time. But he just nodded and made hand signals. It took me a little while to realize what happened. Isko lost his voice for we knew not what reason. He was therefore silent throughout the whole trip back to Manila. He told me days later that his voice only came back the day after our trip. Arnel Dolatre is again coming home. He'll be in Manila in three weeks time. Now- where do you think would our group go to, pronto, to savor the delights of the summer of 2014?