Ever since we’ve been here, we’ve been meaning to take one of the island hopping tours, which range from the ultimate snorkeling experience, to the more picture postcard island dossing experience.
We take tour C and go for the ultimate snorkeling experience. In this deal, you get taken around all the best snorkeling spots for the day- get a freshly cooked lunch of fish or chicken and even some time to relax on one of the remote islands beaches. You get all this for less than a tenner!
And, seeing as we now have David and Dominic in tow, we have no problem making up the numbers for our expedition, as you must be at least a group of four.
We start out early, prepared with our obligatory stash of peanuts and water (we won’t travel anywhere without these necessities. The peanuts here are a cheerful bunch and like many food stuffs in the Philippines, named Happy).
There’s another couple who have joined our party and they turn out to be good company.
Ready to go, we make to the shore to board our banca boat. On board are three crew members, including a fourteen year old boy, a toothy older guy, and a very butch mustached man who looks like he’d be more suited with a gun and a horse rather than a boat.
Very soon we’re on the open water, chatting away to the new members of the group and enjoying the sunshine. It turns out that Si and Armie are from Singapore; we spend most of the boat journey laughing about the billion and one prohibitions there.
Anyway, the first stop is supposed to be great for some snorkeling. We‘re all very excited about what we’ll find; first however, we must survive the gale force winds as we navigate around some sharp limestone. Poor Armie gets soaking wet as waves lash over the deck. It seems to be getting pretty violent. I look back at the crew- the older guy is smiling his toothy grin; everything is as it should be (I hope).
We arrive at the first spot only to find that quite a few other tour boats have beaten us to it. Still, I’m a bit glad to be getting off the boat as I’ve been feeling a tad sea sick. The water looks rough and deep; far from inviting.
Moustache man throws down the anchor, as if throwing but a mere feather and the skipper boy opens up the floor, pulling out a life jacket. I’ll have one of those, thank you very much. The water is deep and rather sketchy after all.
At once, we don our snorkels and one by one plop into the water. I’m last to go, and feeling a little weary in my bright orange jacket. I think everyone thinks I’m a looser, but I really don’t care by the looks of the sea. If I’m too make it to the supposed reef, I’ll need it. I’m not the strongest swimmer.
As the others glide off, I’m left a bobbling weeble upon the waves; wondering if the jacket was quite such a good idea.
The visibility is not great but good enough for me to see what I think is a sharks head coming out of the rocks below me.
I float, transfixed on its ugly head. Shall I move, shall I scream? No, I’ll just stay still and do nothing (apart from bob up and down in my very stupid orange jacket).
I stick my head out of the water and look for the others, who are now well out of sight; in fact the boat is still very close. Some morbid fascination draws my head back under and immediately I berate myself as what I thought was the head of a shark is actually the head of the biggest puffer fish I’ve ever seen. I had no idea they could get that big. Oddly enough, it seems to be bobbing around in the same peculiar fashion as me in this silly jacket. It looks almost drunk. Maybe it sees me a fellow comrade, or worse still, a possible mate. Euck.
Moving on, I have a little look about the depths, but nothing really seems worth looking at. It’s all very dark and dull and I’m too scared to go any further, so head back to the boat. Moustache man helps me aboard; his expression is hard to pin down. I think he’s probably killed people; yes, he definitely has the look of a killer. And here we are, just us, the ocean and his moustache.
It’s all too Cape Fear for my liking.
Before I scare myself half to death, the others start to trickle back, like a rather predictable tap; first Si and Armie, Stef, Dominic, and then David; who is always late.
No one seems particularly taken with this spot, so we move on in hope of some place better. It’s not difficult after all; there are islands everywhere you look.
The next place to discover is called something like Secret Island. Apparently you have to swim through a small crack in the limestone; once through this crack you can find a hidden beach.
Once again, I don the orange jacket. The ocean looks rough and by the looks of things this supposed crack looks just a tad perilous; waves being sucked into its vortex in a rather brutal manner. Hmmmm. Do I really want to be sucked into it too?
Here goes!
As always I’m the last to get in. Sure enough, the water throws me about like a rag in a wheel. I hardly notice that I’m through the crack; in fact it’s hard to notice much when you’re being chucked about so much.
A hand appears from somewhere and I’m hauled up onto the rocks inside the “secret” island.
After clambering over some rock pools, we all flake out on the small white beach inside; looking up to see the sky through an opening in the limestone. There’s a surreal remoteness about this place; unfortunately this feeling is very quickly ruined by the other boat loads of people turning up.
Not so Secret now, is it.
Once back to the boat, we find moustache man in a bit of a tussle with another boats anchor. Too many boats spoil the ocean, I guess.
Soon however, we are free; but once more I get a slither of something sinister when watching moustache man fiercely untangle our way to freedom.
There’s some rough water to cover, but we soon make headway towards a lovely set of small islands- white beaches, and crystal like water.
There, our crew inform us they’ll prepare a lunch- some grilled chicken, mackerel, salad and rice; followed by some bananas.
Indeed, life couldn’t be better.
But, it does get better, as we soon discover that this island has a perfectly intact reef, with a pretty awesome wall and drop off. It’s the closest thing to Panagsama we’ve seen so far. There are loads of fish and although we don’t see any, I’m almost certain there are turtles lurking about.
We spend quite some time following the reef around to the next island, before heading back to the crew for lunch.
The food is simple, but extremely tasty and in generous supply.
Stef quaffs a whole 2 mackerels all to himself.
We thank the crew kindly; especially moustache man as I expect we’re all trying to get in his good books in order to spare ourselves from his stern looks (and murderous eyes).
I really don’t want to leave this island- it’s so pretty and the reef is gorgeous and manageable as the water is so calm and clear. Plus I’m feeling very sleepy after scoffing down so much grilled fish and rice.
But, Dominic and David seem pretty eager to get to the next snorkeling spot; so we all trundle aboard in the hope that this location won’t be as rough as the first spot we visited…
It’s worse, much worse.
It hardly seems like the boat can stay above water, let alone snorkelers. But the crew seem unfazed and tells us to swim across the water as they cannot take the banca inside this other, larger “secret” island, as it’s too dangerous.
Hmmmmm.
Of course there is another way into the lagoon type island, but the crew warns us that this seemingly quicker way in is too dangerous as the rough waves will drag you over sharp rocks in the shallow water. They tell us it is better to swim around the deeper ocean water, following the perimeter of the islands cliff face. This is all well and good, but the islands cliff face is a good swim away, through what looks like some pretty treacherous water.
The current looks far too strong for a weak swimmer and the waves lashing against the rocks look capable of causing quite some damage in a skin tearing way.
All this is very strange, especially when we see another, more sea worthy vessel sail straight into the (albeit) narrow entrance to the lagoon.
When I ask the toothy old man why we cannot sail into the lagoon like the other boat, he replies with an expected toothy, vacant grin.
So, we must do this on our own then.
On goes the life jacket and snorkel, although the sea is so very rough I hardly expect to see anything through the bumps.
I urge Stef to wear a life jacket too, but he’s far too cool for these mere appendages; as are the rest of the group it would seem.
Anyway, we get into the water and start to swim towards these rocks we’re supposed to follow around to the rear entrance of the lagoon. Despite the atrocious waves, we do manage to see some coral and spot some odd looking fish.
Before long though, I’m exhausted with the strong current. I hate to think of the others who aren’t even wearing a jacket.
It’s impossible to even talk, as the wind is gale force.
Si and Armie soon disappear and I expect they’ve gone for the quicker (but apparently more dangerous) entrance.
I can see that Stef is becoming exhausted and I urge him back towards the boat. Yet, he seems intent on chasing Dominic and David on this ludicrous venture around what looks like death rocks.
I scream back at him that I’m going to try and swim back to the boat. I don’t think he hears this, but I’m already trying my hardest to swim back. The waves are turning my guts.
I can only hope they make it unscathed.
I get back on the boat feeling pretty angry towards the crew. I ask them why they told us to swim around the rocks when it’s clearly a dangerous thing to do.
I really don’t think they understand what I’m saying; the winds are vicious and roaring in my ears. I begin to feel sick as the boat continues to rock crazily on the water. Moustache man eyes me suspiciously as I attempt to lie down on one of the benches, whilst old toothy seems to be totally unaware of our imminent peril, swinging high into his hammock like a kid on break time.
I keep my fingers crossed and tell myself I’m just a paranoid sailor.
But then my heart sinks as Si and Armie return and tell me that they’ve not seen Stef or the others and they’ve been in the lagoon for quite some time. They presumed they’d just gone back to the boat.
They also tell me how dangerous the whole thing was and they too feel like we shouldn’t have come here.
Just as I’m ready to send out the search party I spy that same boat coming out of the lagoon, carrying a rather disheveled looking Stef on the bow.
Hoorah!
I can tell by the colour of his face that something is amiss.
Sure enough, the way around the cliffs had been anything but easy and he said that at one point he was in fear for his life.
It turns out that the waves and currents were so strong that he’d been smashed against the rocks, giving himself some nasty coral laced cuts- a rather serious injury if not treated straight away. Thankfully we always carry anti-bac, so douse his cuts immediately.
He’s lucky he didn’t drown.
Why on earth they told us to go around that way is beyond logical reasoning (of course I suspected there was something untoward about moustache features. Clearly I was right).
Despite this close shave with death, we all recover surprisingly well; enough to get excited about our last stop to Helicopter Island- named thus so due to its shape.
Its dusk by the time we anchor and the sky has that wonderful melting quality where it seems to blend into the sea. The stretch of beach is long and inviting; the water still warm from the sun.
There’s a magical sense of freedom here; perhaps I’m just feeling this due to Stef’s close shave with the rocks, but this island is truly tranquil, open and vast.
It looks out onto a celestial ocean; from here you can see many of the islands that make up northern Palawan.
Maybe it’s the way the shore curves or maybe it’s this newfound sense of freedom (or maybe it’s Patrick McGoohans face), but I can’t stop myself from running up and down the shore as if that big white balloon is chasing me.
Yet as with all good things, the bubble has to burst (or ensconce your whole being until you look like you’re gnawing your way out of a plastic stocking) and soon we’re all bundled on board for the final homeward sail.
It’s been an invigorating day. Again, one we’ll never forget.
Palawan is having that effect on us…
