The great thing about the Philippines is we have so many islands that sooner or later you’re bound to come upon an untouched beach just waiting to be discovered. Of course, it helps if you love going into unknown places and enduring all sorts of inconveniences to get there. As they say, the journey is worth more than the destination.
Photo Credits - Harvey Tapan for Travelife MagazineCalaguas Islands off Camarines Norte province in the Bicol region is one such place. Now I’m usually not the roughing-it type of vacationer. If I had to choose between pampering myself at a first-class resort and hieing off to an unknown island with no running water, no cable, and no soft bed, I’ll book myself in the nearest resort. However, I love discovering new places and trying out new things and will always jump at the chance to check out an unknown destination. And sometimes, depriving myself of a few creature comforts makes the whole trip even more memorable. I did wonder if I was in over my head this time, though, when I saw the list of things to bring that Edward, one of the organizers, e-mailed me: tent, sleeping bag, garbage bags, and… a small garden spade? “That’s for digging your toilet,” he explained. Hmmm... Obviously, this wasn’t going to be a typical trip for me. As Edward later explained, Calaguas Islands are practically untouched. Untouched—great though that sounds in an eco-friendly sort of way—means no modern conveniences.
We left Manila late in the evening, hoping to get to Daet early the next morning in time for breakfast before heading out to the islands. Our group consisted of media types, artists, a hotel executive, and even some medical people. The key to a successful trip is a lot of gregarious people determined to have a good time. And this group was nothing if not determined. Long stretches of dark highway flew past as we consumed vast amounts of chips, fruit juice, and alcohol. By 2am, everyone had crashed except me—it’s hard to sleep in a bus that’s going 90 kilometers per hour on a twisty, bumpy road called, appropriately enough, “bituka ng manok” (chicken intestines). By early morning we were in Daet, more than ready to get down, stretch our legs, and eat the hearty breakfast of eggs, dried fish, and fried rice. And then it was off to Vinzons town where we boarded a lantsa (a big outrigger) named Lumba-Lumba (local vernacular for whale) for Calaguas Islands. The sun was high when we set out into a vastness of blue—it was 360 degrees of nothing but azure sky and still blue water. In fact, the water was so calm that it looked like we were floating through glass. From time to time, seabirds would alight on the water before flying up, a tiny fish caught in their beaks. Ripples would break the water occasionally; I imagined fish checking us out as we passed by. After almost an hour, we spotted a speck in the distance, the first of a group of islands known as Calaguas.
Photo Credits - Harvey Tapan for Travelife MagazinPrior to the trip, I heard stories about this group of islands said to have beaches beautiful enough to rival Boracay, and I was about to see if the rumor proved true. It did. If development is done right, Calaguas can indeed someday rival Boracay in popularity—its beaches and fine white sand will make sure of that. But it wasn’t Boracay I was thinking of when I gazed at the pure white beaches, the glassy blue water, and the coconut trees swaying in the distance. Calaguas islands reminded me of Maldives. Midmorning, we docked a few meters away from the beach of Pinagcastillohan, one of the islands being slated for development. It was low tide, and our lantsa couldn’t go in any farther. After making sure our gear was protected, we set out to walk the several meters to the island. It was surreal. Being able to set foot on an island that is practically untouched almost counts as a religious experience. Looking down, I was walking on sea grass, which, a few hours from now would be under more than 10 feet of water. Starfishes were exposed to the sun and everywhere, it was blinding white. Sunlight was reflecting on the water and the sand and there was hardly any shade. In the distance I could see more islands. Nearer to us was La Bendita, separated from Pinagcastillohan by a narrow strait, which we could have walked to if we wanted because of the low tide. Walking on wet, squishy sand, with my ankles submerged in warm salt water was a novel experience—and pretty hard going for someone more accustomed to hard concrete. It’s a good thing our organizers also imported in waitstaff to carry our heavy bags and provisions. If you’re looking to commune with nature, this is the place to go. Except for our rowdy group, there was hardly anyone on the island, except for a few fisherfolk. At last, we reached solid ground. Our island base, Pinagcastillohan, as well as two other islands, are owned by artist Joaquin Palencia and his family. It was his idea to develop them into an ecotourism destination. On one side of the beach were tents already set up for those who, like me, didn’t bring their own. Bedrolls and blankets were distributed. The veteran backpackers among us brought their own tents and beddings. We all set to make our sleeping quarters as comfortable as we could. I chose a tent at the end of one row, figuring I’d get more breeze that way than if I was squeezed between two other tents. After making sure our tents were secure—including putting rocks on the inside corners so “it doesn’t get blown away by the wind,” advised one veteran camper, we inspected our campsite. There was a secluded area designated as the “bathroom,” complete with drums of fresh water, which gave me pause. Pinagcastillohan, I was told, didn’t have a fresh-water source, so those big drums of water had to be transported from the mainland—some two hours away! Though there was enough water for everyone to wash off the sea brine, we were told to be prudent in our water use. Meaning, no long “showers.”
Lunch was served under the trees on two low tables, with waitstaff hovering over us, serving food and asking for our drink preferences. Service is something else. Here I am camping on a deserted island and I’m being served by waiters as if I were in the best restaurant in Makati. This was clearly roughing it in the order of having high tea in the middle of an African jungle safari, the way the English did at the height of the British Empire. After lunch, we did more exploring within Pinagcastillohan and its surrounding islands, the largest of which, Mahabang Buhangin, is said to be owned by Japanese investors. We stopped to sunbathe and swim in the blue waters. Dinner that night was a relaxed affair, with everyone gorging on food freshly prepared by the cook we had brought with us. Drinks in hand, groups formed and reformed as people got to know each other. The moon was a big low orb in the sky. We had lucked out on a full moon. “Excuse me, ma’am, would you like a last order? The bar is closing in a few minutes,” one of the waiters informed me. Whoa, we had a bar in the middle of nowhere. How—there’s the word again—surreal. After a few rounds of drinks, we were ready to retire to our tents, having had an uncomfortable ride in the bus the night before.
Photo Credits - Harvey Tapan for Travelife MagazinI hadn’t slept outdoors in a tent since I was in third grade. I looked out at the dark landscape with all the other tents huddled next to mine. It was so silent that whispered conversations carried. The wind picked up, a blessing since the evening started out humid. I was tempted to open my tent’s net entrance, but I didn’t dare because of the mosquitoes dive-bombing into the tent. The sand underneath was soft and good thing I heeded the advice of the more experienced campers in the group and made a mound for a sleeping area and removed any stones. Yet sleep wouldn’t come. I wasn’t used to the silence and the stillness, with just the waves crashing on the beach for aural companionship. Through my tent’s airhole, the moon was shining down on me, making it even harder to sleep. Funny how in the city I never noticed how bright a full moon actually was, what with all the electric lights competing for its brilliance. A little while later, the wind picked up, sending some welcome breeze into the tents, and the moon hid behind clouds. And then it rained. Hard. Outside I heard Harvey, the photographer, warning everyone to wear their jackets because the tents might not be waterproof enough to withstand the rain. Huh? Nobody said anything about tents not being waterproof! Fool that I was, I didn’t bring a jacket even though I was advised to, thinking my sarongs would suffice. I hadn’t counted on rain, although I was told it was a possibility. The rain pounded on my flimsy tent and the wind grew stronger. I checked my surroundings; so far, I was dry. But when I touched the seams of my tent, sure enough, they were wet. The breathing hole above me was flapping like mad against the strong wind and rain was coming in. There’s nothing like being alone in a tent in the dark with the rain pounding down to make one think of the eternal question: What will I wear tomorrow?
Thirty minutes later, the rain stopped. We all peeked out of our tents to survey the damage. I emerged into a silvery landscape. The moon had hidden behind dark clouds, yet its light was strong enough that everything seemed limned with silver. Even the sky was a silvery gray and the air was suffused by silver moonlight. It was bright enough that we didn’t even need flashlights. Except for a few minor mishaps—one tent had its airhole flap blown off—everyone had weathered the rain unscathed. With the fresh, cool wind on my face, the rain now felt like a blessing. After ensuring that everyone was all right, we all crawled back into our tents and the oblivion of sleep. The sun was already shining when I woke up, as if the freak storm last night was a dream. The first order of the day: breakfast. After which, more island-hopping. You’d think that after the excitement of last night, today would prove to be anti-climactic. But not so. Some swam, others went snorkeling off Balagbag Malaki, another island within the group. The waters there were very clear with jagged rocks and corals. I’m still not an adventure-type traveler, but after Calaguas, I seem to have developed a taste for going the way less traveled. I will definitely go back, given the chance. I find myself hoping, though, that the islands remain undiscovered for yet awhile—a paradise tucked into a country that has more than its share of pocket paradises.
NAVIGATE YOURSELF: CALAGUAS ISLANDS
NEED TO KNOW
Since there are no resorts there at the moment, Calaguas is considered “virgin territory.”TRAVELER’S CHECKLIST
Phone area code: 54Commonly spoken languages: Bicolano (native dialect), Tagalog, Cebuano, English
Travel time from Manila: By road, 8-10 hours; by air, 30-45 minutes
HOW TO GET THERE
By road: Many bus lines ply the provincial route between Manila and Daet, the capital of Camarines Norte. It’s a long trip, so choose a bus with comfortable seats. From the bus station in Daet, take a tricycle to the city center. From there, take a jeep or FX to Vinzons town, where you take a tricycle to the port. Tricycle fares cost around P50 each way.By air: Seair (flyseair.com) just started its Manila-Daet route. From Vinzons port, you can rent a boat to go to Mahabang Buhangin for P6,000. There are no boats plying a regular route from Vinzons to the Calaguas Islands. Locals will usually wait for a boat to be filled before journeying there. The wait can take several days.
WHEN TO GO
May to August when the waters are calm.WHAT TO BRING
• Beach and resort wear• Footgear: rubber slippers, beach sandals, water socks
• Wide-brim hat
• Sunglasses
• Tent and sleeping bag
• Insect repellant and/or soap with citronella to ward off mosquitoes
• Sunscreen or sunblock
• Flashlight
• First-aid kit and medicine
• Your camera and enough batteries and memory cards to last the length of stay
• Cell phone and a fully charged or extra battery. Warning: Signal can still be patchy at times
• A waterproof pouch and bag to store your valuables in
• Moist towelettes
• Tissue paper
• Huge garbage bags to protect your gear while on the boat
• A waterproof jacket or raincoat
WHAT TO DO
Commune with nature: Island-hop, swim, snorkel, watch the stars, go beach-combing, fish…WE SUGGEST
At present, it’s almost impossible to go on a tour of Calaguas without knowledgeable guides who will arrange everything for you. Calaguas Eco Tours organizes “luxe safari”-type tours—complete with butler and waitstaff, tents with fresh beddings everyday, toilet and shower amenities, and full-service kitchen. Choose from several packages. Calaguas Eco Tours, 3/f OLLH Building, Vinzons Ave., Daet, Camarines Norte, tel (+63928) 363-5490; e-mail calaguasecotours@gmail.com Related Articles :
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