Philippines : Mile Post #5

We checked out of our awesome cottage with some regret, the place was the highlight of the trip, and headed downtown to meet up with Mini and take a van to San Fernando, where our banca would be leaving from. The banca ride to Coron usually leaves the El Nido harbor, yet this boat was leaving at the very northmost point of the island, an anomaly that should have blipped on our radar. The previous evening, we discussed the boat ride with Joe, an expat who previously ran the most successful ferry between Coron and El Nido, and he had basically no information about the boat that we were chartering. Everything from the capacity to location of departure was a mystery, even to him, and was being coordinated by a lady that he hadn't worked with before. Joe originally claimed that this was a legal and licensed transport, but after some prodding, it appeared that this was a false claim. Furthermore, his original capacity claim of seven seemed like information he pulled out of his ass. He was a pretty decent guy though, but kind of shady, and recommended some advice: purchase drugs for sea-sickness, keep a light jacked, and extra food in our day-packs (although we were all under the impression lunch would be provided.


During the previous evening and that morning, they kept selling tickets to people. For being unsure of the safe capacity of the boat, they was a significant amount of people purchasing tickets. At least ten people gathered around in the morning, with luggage and smiles, waiting for the van which was parked on a side street.


Some of Mini's new acquaintances from China had already purchased tickets on the Jezebel for Friday. She assured them that they could cancel the reservations and Dacota, Mini, and the four new people set off to get their money while I watched the luggage. Forty minutes go by and they returned. Dacota, as the English speaking representative of the group, spent half an hour yelling at people, demanding a refund, and threatening to call the police if the company declined. With only a minor penalty for withdrawing their reservations, Dacota saved the day.

After that ordeal, and other hold-ups, we finally loaded up the van, our luggage stored on the roof, and thought we were leaving when we made a stop and more, and more, people boarded the already packed van. Eighteen people were now crammed in the van with one guy hanging onto the roof rack system, and we drove dirt roads until stopping short of San Fernando at a private beach.

3/5 rows of the van. Nine people, including me, are not featured in this picture (and some people are obscured by others) and are sitting around and behind me.

We'd been to San Fernando the first full day on Palawan, as described, and didn't remember a harbor of any sort. Obviously seeking to avoid the Coast Guard and Port Authorities, we arrived at a private beach as the launch point, this unregulated transport was about two-thirds the size of the banca we'd taken island hopping. During the island hopping, we joked about taking a small boat across the ocean, as a sketchy but epic tale. It turns out that we were to do exactly that! Oh, the irony.

The banca

The twenty or so tourists loaded up the boat, storing our bags within the cargo hull and launched a hour or more late.

The open ocean

A tarp was set up, perpendicular to the deck on the front of the ship, to help block the splashing water. Most people eventually moved to the back of the banca because they'd become drenched from the spraying water.

Some of the group

We'd met Harold and Thomas, two Germans that we'd be spending time with later, during the van trip and they sat listening to music, grinning from ear to ear, as if Buddhas, as the rocking boat jostled us about. I'd taken anti-nausea drugs during the van trip because the van ride was even worse than the open ocean, but popped the second pill into my mouth as soon as we started off. Because of this, or a rock hard stomach, the trip went great, and felt like a ride at a water-park.

A smoke break while steering our boat

There was a crew of three men, rum bottles numerous and stored within their small cabin. These men did not say a single word to us during the voyage and the focus and crazed look in their eye shone that they'd been through some shit in their life and carting around tourists was simply a good payday.

One of a hundred islands

Only during one stretch was land not visible. Being saturated with islands, the trip to Coron offered plenty of beaches and small land-masses to escape to if the weather worsened, or the boat began to sink. With this comfort cushion, I think all of us felt more secure. Fortunately the weather was beautiful because, if it wasn't, the trip would have gone down significantly different. The voyage, supposed to take six hours, took almost nine because we were so overloaded that the pilot was forced to reduce speeds so that water wouldn't pore into the boat. At various times, large waves brought hundreds of gallons of water on board, which was quickly shed via drainage holes. If the ocean hadn't been so smooth, this tale would have drastically changed.

While passing one island, the boat motor cut out and a smaller ship approached, the size of a lake canoe. Three additional people boarded our banca destined for Coron making a total of 26 people, and luggage, on the small ship. We didn't have any communication with these locals and it felt like we were taking aboard fugitives or drugs.

The sun begins to set

The voyage was full of conversation and the nine hours went by extremely quick. In fact, my voice is still attempting to recover from hours and hours of conversation over the roar of the engine. Besides Harold and Thomas, I had the pleasure to speak with Jennifer, Steve, Mini, and an Australian guy whose name I cannot recall.

Jennifer, a Chinese woman in her mid-thirties, and I struck up one of the most surprisingly conversation I've had in a long time. After I poorly attempted to describe the style of science fiction I enjoy writing she questioned be about my thoughts on OOBE's (out of body experiences). Wow! Talk about an awesome segue into something I never expected to hear from a Chinese citizen. She could have been from Eugene from the various topics we discussed. Everything from meditation, to OOBE's, to aliens and UFO's, to malevolent aliens running world leaders and corporate leaders. It was awesome! I should have conversed with her further yet during a lull of conversation, I struck up a conversation with Steve.

I heard Steve's life story, although his work history and its idiosyncrasies are already lost to me due to their convoluted complexity. He somehow finished university and began working in Germany until returning to the England to run a new branch within that company. Before starting his career though, he told the owner of this billion dollar company that he wanted to travel the world for a year and did exactly that. Once the year finished, he was happily given a position at the company making good money off the bat. From there, he moved to Paris for a few years, decided he was done with it, and returned to begin working as a loan broker (for large hedge funds) at a company his friend started. He did this for ten years until the market crashed. He took a year sabbatical, hoping the market would recover, which it never did and eventually proposed that the company buy him out of his contract.With this money, and some wise investing, Steve is now retired, and has been travelling the world for over two years straight. Anywhere from Asia to South America, he has seen it all. He literally does not have a home and, besides for a backpack and a few items left at a friends home in Hong Kong, lives with the clothes on his back. He gave me a copy of The Road, which he had just finished, and gave me a boatload of advice. His situation sounded perfect for the adventuring heart and we talked for a long time about the positives and negatives of the various courses of action I can choose in the immediate future. Although I'd hoped to speak with Jennifer longer, Steve and I spoke for a few hours straight.

Sunset on the boat 1

Sunset on the boat 2

Sunset on the boat 3

Just as it was getting really dark, we finally arrived at Coron. Temporarily docking on the pier, we unloaded our stuff, and said good-bye the various people we'd met.   Throughout the next couple of days we ran into the folks met aboard ship and would catch up for a few minutes. I like to feel there was some good comradery built between our small band. The banca docked for less than five minutes and was gone, obviously seeking to avoid any kind of police involvement.

Harold and Thomas were staying at the same guesthouse as us and we walked to our accommodations while making plans for the following day. A snorkeling adventure and hot-spring soak was on the menu and would commence at noon. With plans for the following day, we ate dinner, which took forever to receive!!! and decided it would be best to turn in for the evening, having gotten only about a combined six hours of sleep for the past two nights. Still hungry though, after an entire meal, we stopped at a place to eat some curry and Dacota struck up a conversation with a girl from China, Susan, who we would see twice more. It made for a more interesting trip that we met, and continued to run into, so many of the same people. With full stomachs, we departed the physical into the dream world.