Backpacking Palawan (2)
“The island was beautiful. White sand beach sloping down into crystal clear azure waters. Limestone cliffs rising in the background, with coconut, fruiting banana trees and other lush vegetation fringing its base.
The Eagle’s Nest Bing Matoto
Today’s article is Part 2 of my classmate’s tale of how he coped with grief after his wife’s passing.
Our guide landed us on the beach where a solitary hut stood. It was made of palm leaves thatched into a bamboo frame. It had a loft, where we were to sleep, and was equipped with plastic covered mattresses for sleeping. Lighting consisted of an electric bulb, charged from a single solar panel. The only furniture was a bamboo table with a pair of long benches along each side. The hut’s rental was only $10 per night for the three of us.
Indiana had brought a tent and scouted for a suitable campsite about a thousand yards from our hut. Our guide assembled an LPG stove for our use, showed us the outhouse at the back of the hut, and a shallow well for washing. He warned us not to drink from the well, but would show us a spring about a kilometer from the hut, at the base of the limestone cliffs. He said the water gushing from underground had been filtered by the sand and was clean. He also showed us a village where five families of fishermen lived who could help if we needed assistance.
The island was beautiful. White sand beach sloping down into crystal clear azure waters. Limestone cliffs rising in the background, with coconut, fruiting banana trees and other lush vegetation fringing its base. The limestone cliffs were remarkable, weather-beaten into sharp gargoyle shapes, in black and white, menacing nearby, but beautifully soothing when faraway in the background.
To our delight, we discovered that they made tuba, coconut toddy.
Our beach was on the protected side of the island, away from the ocean swells. The water was calm with gentle waves lapping on the pebbled white sands. We snorkeled among the corals, which were located about 30 feet from the shore. The most beautiful formations were those on the shallow portions of the beach, about 10 feet deep. Here, mushroom-like corals rose up, as schools of brightly colored tropical fish darted about. Lurking underneath the corals were larger predatory fish, awaiting an opportune time to snatch a meal. Amid the seaweeds on the sand were giant clams, with gaping open mouths, some as large as two feet across, filtering the water for nutrient plankton. In the mornings, turtles would forage among the sea grass on the shallows.
The whole scene had a hypnotic aquarium-like peacefulness that lulled our souls in a deep tranquil sense of well-being. We would go fishing, catching mostly small tropical fish too small and too pretty to eat. The giant clams were an endangered species and were illegal to harvest. Instead, there were plenty of mussels to be gathered, clinging onto the rocks among the coral outcrops. We harvested those instead.
Eventually we discovered a drop-off on the reef where samaral abounded. These were fish larger than the palm of my hand, with a dark brown color and yellow spots. We caught one on a piece of mussel, which we used for bait, and knew they were one of the most delectable fish. I also knew they preferred fruit as bait, and recalled seeing ripe bananas near the fishing village. I would bring these the next time we went fishing.
Often, we walked the half kilometer down the beach where the fishermen lived. They came back from a night of fishing at about eight in the morning. We could buy prized species of game fish at half the price it sold for in the wet markets and our supply of fresh coconuts, as well as fresh bananas, for a nominal price.
To our delight, we discovered that they made tuba, coconut toddy. They would climb 50 feet up the coconut tree and cut the blossoming stems. They would then place a bamboo receptacle to catch the sweet sap from the tree. The sap would ferment over the day to form alcohol, slightly stronger than wine.
On the third day on the island, I walked down the beach toward the drop off where the samaral congregated. I had fresh bananas, which I would use for bait. Halfway there, I spotted a dark moving shape on the water, moving serenely along the beach. Nearing it, I realized it was a large school of talakitok. As I got nearer, I saw that they were feeding on the schools of anchovy and other tropical fish near the shore. What looked like a serene cloud in the distance was now a darting moving shape as they moved to corner the smaller fish. Adrenalin began to intensify my senses. My heart started beating faster.
Until next week for Part 3… One big fight! For comments, email bing_matoto@yahoo.com