by Ced Valera
Daraga Church and its gentle facade
It was supposed to be a typical summer weekend. But instead of beginning the day by slathering on some sunscreen and putting on shades, we fumbled for our jackets and umbrellas to shield ourselves from the rain.
I’ve been accustomed to majestic sunrises onboard Bicol-bound buses. The sun would creep gently on the horizon, slowly casting a deep, warm glow on the wet paddies. But that morning was just a montage of gray, a heavy sky hovering restlessly. By the time we arrived in Legazpi, it began raining.
Despite the drizzle, we managed to accomplish a bit of sightseeing. Mt. Mayon, the usual attraction, withheld its usual assuring beauty. Clouds gathered and culminated on the volcano’s upper half, as if it was spewing ash. I, however, was mystified by the Daraga Church’s newly painted façade. Perched on a hill and now ghostly white, the 17th century temple offered an eerie vibe. Loud, somber music blaring from a crackling horn quickly broke the silence. A funeral hearse emerged. It was time to go.
It was when we got to Donsol, Sorsogon that it had really started to rain. Cold, hard, rain.
I knew about the low-pressure area forming in the Pacific but based on experience, these things just usually bring in a few showers and then summer would just get back on track. What we didn’t expect was that in a span of hours, it would develop into a Signal #2 tropical storm.
We were in town for the butandings of course. Because of Donsol’s warm and nourishing waters, these giant migratory fish have put this sleepy town on the adventure map. The butanding interaction is in fact currently the world’s top-rated animal interaction experience. Forget about petting tigers or trading high fives with seals, swimming with the butanding is the shit.
I remember my first time seeing the gentle marine creatures. While searching and spotting, the Butanding Interaction Officer or BIOMAN warned against being overwhelmed by the fish’s sight and consequently panicking. Of course, I just brushed it off. Within a few minutes, our spotter made a positive sighting and our boat made a mad dash for it. We then got into position. Fins on. Goggles and snorkels ready.
And then together with our guide, we plunged into the warm ocean. I scanned my surroundings, a flurry of bubbles, and saw nothing. Underwater, I looked into our guide and gestured that there was nothing. With his hands, he violently communicated “Behind you!” I turned around and there it was, about 20 meters away, the biggest, most beautiful fish I have ever seen. Its mouth was wide open and most definitely headed into MY direction. I was absolutely terrified. I forcefully kicked upward and surfaced. Expletives followed.
Definitely no sightings on that day
The torrential downpour was quickly joined by howling winds and soon we all accepted that there would be no butanding interactions that weekend. We have been trying to evade the rain the whole day, running for cover and sharing umbrellas. At one point, I even caught myself using a big banana leaf as shelter. I was tired of escaping the rain.
And so I finally gave in and walked plainly into the rain. And into the wind. Raindrops pelted my skin hard enough it hurt. Within a minute, I was soaked. A bottle of cheap beer and a whole lot of precipitation later, I felt awesome.
Note: On May 7, 2011 (Saturday), Tropical Storm Bebeng made landfall into the Bicol region causing massive flashfloods and landslides. It claimed 13 lives.
The group was stranded in Donsol for 3 days – playing Pusoy Dos (Filipino Poker), drinking beer, trading stories and bathing in the rain.
Cedric Valera is a traveler and an entrepreneur. He is the Managing Partner of Travel Factor, the Philippines’ leading adventure travel company.
