0There are a lot of stories I haven’t shared about my Balabac Expedition. I call it as such because it was the wildest, riskiest trip I ever took in my 26 years of living.
Never would I have imagined traveling an hour by plane from Davao to Puerto Prinsesa (PPS), five hours in a cramped van from PPS to Rio Tuba, another four hours in cramped marine vessel—where more than half of the trip was a nauseous roller coaster ride amongst 3-foot-high waves—I was praying to God that we’d make it out alive, and finally upon arriving in Balabac taking another hour in an exclusive outrigger boat with a bleeding foot after unknowingly stepping on a broken glass in a part of the town’s docking area because of people irresponsible enough for their own trash.
I had no expectations for this trip from the start—I just wanted it to be unforgettable—but even without the mildest expectations, I was floored by two things in Balabac. One was the remote beauty and abundance of marine life found in these group of islands and the second was the nightmarish mounds of plastic trash I found on almost 90% of the islands we visited. A sad and heartbreaking reality I had to wake up to.
Of all the islands we visited (I think we were only able to visit six but there were still more), there was one standout island that I’d want to go back to, Onuk Island.
It’s one of the farthest islands, around four to five hours away from Malaysia. It was easier to do grocery shopping in Malaysia than it was to buy from PPS because it took a much longer route and mode of transportation to get to Palawan’s capital rather than our neighbouring country, Malaysia.
Onuk Island is dubbed as the most beautiful island of them all because of a few things (not in any particular order): first, the quality of sand and the number of sandbars that never disappear even with the tide going up. Next is the insane amount of turtles that have called this island home. Third, the number of reef and coral formations that contain many giant clams that you can easily reach just by snorkeling from one of its many sandbars.
As a mermaid, I’ve had my fair share of marine life encounters, but none compare to what I’ve witnessed in Onuk Island. The turtles were like pigeons that congregate in city electric posts, only moving when a boat arrives.
At first glance, you’d assume in an instant that the big black or grey shapes underneath the clear turquoise waters were rocks—up until they start moving further away from each other and further away from you as you inch closer—then you ask your boatman if those were turtles. He nods his head nonchalantly—shrieking in delight “Turtles!” I quickly put on my mask and mermaid fins and jumped out of the boat.
In around six feet of water and in complete disregard for safety, I never bothered to ask about the possibility of sharks in the area up until I noticed too far from the boat, but I shrugged off the thought of it because I wanted to see the turtles in action under the water.
I found out later that sharks couldn’t get into Onuk Island because of the natural reef wall formations around it—remember Motonui the movie Moana? That’s precisely how Onuk Island’s reef barrier is. The natural reef wall acts as a barrier preventing larger predators or marine creatures from entering the island’s territory, only sea turtles and stingrays (and humans) can get in.
As we arrived at Onuk Island, it started raining really hard. It was impossible to get great shots of the place because we didn’t want our gadgets to get wet and featuring Onuk Island in heavy downpour didn’t feel like a summer shot. We opted to wait out the rain wading near the sandbars, it was quite cold, but there was plenty of fish, and we found a spot that had a light current of warm water that made the waiting more relaxing.
If we could only go back here in better weather, we would. We never got to take shots of the whole island because the rain was strong and we just wanted to swim and enjoy whatever warmth the sun could shine on us. The trip was around two to three hours, the travel time depended on the sea conditions. We were drenched cold upon arriving so out went the photoshoots and we ended up just enjoying the island like kids being at the beach for the first time—playing tag, pushing each other into the deeper ends of the sandbar hoping that they couldn’t recover easily while we race to the other side to claim victory in our little recreated ‘patintero’.
The hours went by quite fast. After eating the most delicious and heaping amounts of steamed crab with some white sauce we thought was cream which we later found out to be a special mayo sauce with lots of spices—we were set to go back to our island base, Candaraman Island.
The weather didn’t look like it would clear up. The waves were rougher and the remaining hours of sunlight were unexpectedly less than the allotted travel time we could manage—the sea was too rough to make it back to Candaraman Island in time for dusk.
After waiting an hour in the boat and a few calls to the head organizer, the captain called off the trip back, and we headed back to Onuk Island to spend the night. There was nothing much that we had ready for an overnight trip save for the wet clothes and swimwear we had on and our unused cameras. No toothbrushes, extra contact lenses or even a little alcohol so we could comfortably sleep off the hard wooden floor that we were assigned to because three different groups of tourists were also stranded for the night.
Arriving in Onuk Island six hours earlier, we were joking among ourselves that if there were an island we’d love to get stranded in, it would to be here. I guess we got our wish granted right then and there. But there were no regrets even if we didn’t have the necessary amenities to spend the night because slept with the most fantastic sunset and we woke up to travel back at five in the morning to the view of equally breathtaking sunrise that I’ll never ever forget—and sore back from a night on a cold, hard wooden floor sleeping to the sound of the waves and occasional splashes of the turtles underneath us.
