Coron: A Phoenix Rising

It was not a journey I was looking forward to. It was some ten days after the super-typhoon Yolande (Haiyan) had hit Busuanga Island in the Philippines’ Calamian group, where my house in Coron is currently being built. I had been out of the country when Yolande struck. The eye of the storm had passed directly overhead and bulletins on all the main TV channels were not very cheery, to put it mildly. Yolande had been classed as an “Extremely Catastrophic Super Typhoon” and was dubbed the most powerful Super Typhoon ever recorded.

 

 

The airstrip on Busuanga had been knocked out by the storm, but within days the runway had been cleared and communications were up and running with the result that day time flights were now possible once again.

 

 

The old terminal building was all but demolished; but the newer terminal that is the only one used anyway these days (it had been built with funds donated by the Koreans) was still standing, albeit that most of the glass had been broken inside and out, with the result that only a row of chairs separated incoming from outgoing passengers.

 

 

Outside the terminal, whereas there once had been a welcome sign from the local mayor, “Fems” Reyes…

 

 

Ms Reyes’ happy row of smiling molars was no more…

 

 

… which is perhaps a pity since by all accounts she has done a sterling job of leading the reconstruction and acting like you would want your local mayor to act – a one helluva lot better job than other mayors in other disaster struck provinces across the Phils have done, by all accounts.

 

There are countless postings on the internet about some really appalling stories doing the rounds – such as relief sent from Indonesia being repackaged with the logo of a Philippines relief agency on the covering before being handed out to the unfortunate recipients a day later than needed. Whether there is any truth in this story or not, it is symptomatic of the bad feeling and the mistrust that has built up between the haves and the have-nots.

 

Ms Reyes, on the other hand, is visible by what she is doing, and not just relying on slogans. She immediately set up a lost-and-found office for people to find their loved ones and identify the dead; she organised water and food distribution, and her Facebook site is well worth a look at what else she has been doing.

 

It is said that 90 per cent of all buildings in Coron had been badly affected by the storm, and I almost feel guilty that my concrete construction only lost one window. Along the waterfront it is still a total mess…

 

 

…while inland entire homes have been demolished.

 

 

But the residents of Coron are nothing if not survivors, and everyone has been quick to lend a hand – first to clear the roads for relief to be able to get through, and then for everyone to help everyone else rebuild shattered homes.

 

 

Each of the local barangays, or local councils, are organising the smaller scale clearup, following on from the teams that have cleared a way through the fallen tree trunks.

 

 

If this had been on a black-and-white TV newsreel on the BBC in the 1950s you would almost have expected a clipped upper-class British accent to be describing the residents of Coron as “plucky” – a word you rarely hear used nowadays, but somehow it seems to sum up the local attitude precisely.

And what a difference a fortnight makes. Here’s a view of the town from the top of Mount Tapyas before the storm…

 

 

and the same view after… (hey, that’s my house down there!)

 

 

The old Hollywood style CORON sign which dominated the west of the town before…

 

 

… is still there, but the waterfront properties are again badly battered.

 

 

And the old signature Coron cross which used to dominate the town from the top of Mount Tapyas …

 

 

… is now a pile of twisted metal, though our Mayor has vowed it will be restored in the near future. Such landmarks may not add to the functioning of the town, but psychologically its presence is highly significant.

 

 

Some of the after effects are not all bad, however. This was my view of Coron from the house a month ago…

 

 

…whereas now I can see down to the waterfront, and no doubt when everything has been cleared it will be a far better view from my bedroom window.

 

 

One of the largest diving centres in Coron, the Sea Dive Resort, looked OK on the outside before (though having stayed there three nights I was not a fan of its “service”)…

 

 

But now the outside is more fitting to the state of the accommodation you would have been offered before. Note that only one telecoms mast – the sturdy Globe mast – is still standing in front of Mt Tapyas. Smart Telecoms’ weedy structure has disappeared.

 

 

But wait - what is this? A small standby mast for Smart Telecom has also just been installed. Not bad going a mere two weeks after the devastation.

 

 

Down in the market place the street signs are neatly laid out waiting to be reinstated.

 

 

…while many properties that weren’t demolished are waiting for new supplies of glass to arrive from Luzon.

 

 

But glass can wait. Essential supplies are being shipped in and there are food kitchens, sheltered accommodation and aid getting to those most in need.

 

 

Meanwhile the electricity grid is being reinstated with teams having been flown in to erect new masts, such as this one in front of my house…

 

 

…up she goes…

 

 

… and there she sits waiting for the next team to come along and fill the hole with concrete…

 

 

…before yet another team climbs up and starts stringing up new cats’ cradles in the sky.

 

 

Meanwhile one of the local fire brigade wagons is dolling out water round the town. They fill their truck from one of the local rivers and fill up people’s plastic drums every second or third day. It’s not fit for drinking, but you very soon work up a sweat in this place with daytime temperatures hovering around 34 degrees.

 

 

Things are fast returning to normal here. The “supermarket” has goods to sell…

 

 

There’s fresh meat too, though prices for almost all food had risen by around 50 per cent; but prices are coming down again now that supplies are getting through from Luzon. These two piggies went to market (but are unlikely to have returned home again).

 

 

Fish stocks are returning to normal…

 

 

There’s even petrol available for your motorbike or trike.

 

 

...which means that the taxi service is practically back to normal...

 

 

Thanks to a generator working overtime, you can bop the night away (well, the evening anyway!) in the Hard Rock disco bar…

 

 

while for the more devout, only one of the half-dozen or so churches was totally demolished and the remainder are doing a brusque trade. At this one it is standing room only …

 

 

Why, even the local launderettes are back to business as usual!

 

 

In summary, when the world is learning from the world’s media how unprepared the Philippines has been for predictable disasters, and with relief efforts turning into tragic farce in some other areas of the country, it is indeed refreshing to see what a fantastic example Coron has been setting for others to wonder at.

 

Good old Coron. Good old “plucky” Coron! 

To Cruise, Perchance to Dream...

What could be nicer than spending Christmas in the warmth of the Philippines rather than freezing in sub zero temperatures in Beijing? If ever there is a no-brainer, this has to be it. And this year your favourite blogger has been to Busuanga island in the Calamian group of islands in the north of Palawan province.

 

The main town on Busuanga is Coron, confusingly located facing Coron Island, which is a mere 15 minutes boat ride away. Just in case you forget where you are, there is a Hollywood style notice on one of the hills proclaiming the place to one and all.

 

 

Busuanga Island is the second largest island in the province after Palawan island itself. It’s located about 310 km southwest of Manila and halfway between the islands of Mindoro and Palawan with the South China Sea located to the west. It’s fast developing as a major tourist destination, with scenic island beaches, wreck diving, river cruising in mangrove-laden forests, kayaking, hiking… well you name it. There are numerous islands surrounding it (with more than 1,000 islands in the Calamianes, actually) with white beaches and clear blue waters - perfect for snorkelling or scuba diving.

 

By all accounts, it’s very much quieter than the more (in)famous Boracay, though down by the port there is a short street in which I counted at least four karaoke / videoke bars – including one that caters specifically for senior citizens. Hmmm… I wonder if I would qualify?

 

 

The place is also being discovered by the Chinese and Arabs. In fact there is a new resort development way out of town owned by a Bahraini conglomerate that caters to the latter with halal food and shisha, among other things. As for the Chinese, well I assume the Oriental Lodging House has them in its sites. (And there was I thinking I’d have a few days away from Mao-morabilia.)

 

 

The highest point on the island is Mt. Tapyas – reachable by a 30-minute trek from the town proper, up a staircase of 100 steps (or more, depending on which web site you read – but unfortunately I don’t have the time this trip to actually find out!). At the top is a spacious viewing platform with a giant cross from which you can get spectacular views.

 

 

Despite its relative remoteness, you can get most of life’s essentials on the island from little shops and stalls dotted all over the place, though not surprisingly prices are somewhat higher than in the main conurbations of the Phils.

 

 

In 1902 Coron became registered as a town, officially having its name changed from Peñon de Coron (ie Crag of Coron) to Coron. In 1947, large scale deep sea fishing was introduced and the town experienced a major increase in population. But it still remains a small, quaint fishing town.

 

But for how much longer? In the past decade, there has been a rapid influx of scuba divers and other tourists, making tourism the major industry player in Coron today. And it’s not hard to see why.

 

In September 1944, a fleet of Japanese ships hiding in the harbour were sunk by the US navy. The Japanese had occupied the manganese mines, hence their presence in the natural harbour. As a result, there are twelve well preserved underwater shipwrecks surrounded with coral reef – truly a scuba paradise. Forbes Traveler Magazine lists Coron as one of the top 10 best scuba sites in the world; and nowadays it is one of the most visited destinations for wreck diving in the Philippines. The dive sites are found as shallow as 10-30 feet and as deep as 120-140 feet. Most are in the range of about 60-80 feet.

 

The waters are crystal clear and usually calm, with almost no current. As well as scuba diving, there are excellent snorkelling opportunities, with underwater visibility extending to 80 feet.

 

If you visit the Helldivers Bar – part of the Sea Dive Resort, you won’t be surprised to discover a whole load of memorabilia taken from the sea bed.

 

 

The best way to explore the islands of Coron Bay is with a bangka, or outrigger boat. They come in all sizes but are basically long and thin and the hull is made of marine plywood and painted with a number of coatings of epoxy paint. Normally each has two outriggers made of bamboo (known locally as katig) which act as very efficient stabilisers, and they are fitted with inboard engines.

 

 

First on every island-hopper’s agenda is the island of Coron - a 15 minute boat ride from the town of Coron itself, where dramatic limestone walls tower up out of the water. A reef protects the entrance to coves. Coron Island is home to 7 lakes but only two can be visited.

 

 

The island is undoubtedly the area's primary eco-tour destination for tourists. It’s the ancestral domain of an indigenous tribe called the Tagbanuas who manage the island in a sustainable way and keep outsiders offshore at night. As you berth at Coron, one of the first things you see is a large notice board proclaiming the rights of the Tagbanuas.

 

We have many sacred sites in our domain such as caves, forest, lakes, beach and the territories of the giant octopus, it reads. We regard our sacred sites with reverence and an innate sense of oneness with it. We keep our thoughts, speech and action pure and virtuous within our sacred sites. We are the caretakers of our environment in maintaining the richness and diversity of biological life for the welfare of present and future generations.

 

Within minutes we are greeted by an ape that is no doubt looking for a bit of freebie food. It sits watching us as we pass on by to the main attraction that a number of others have also come along to see…

 

 

As already mentioned, Coron Island has seven lakes, the most famous of which is the nationally-acclaimed “cleanest lake in the Philippines”, recognized as such for the last 5 consecutive years - the Kayangan Lake.

 

Every visitor has to pay 200 pesos (about £3), payable to the indigenous Tagbanua Foundation, to get there; and then climb a tortuous staircase up over a limestone rise, and down the other side.

 

 

The water is warm and slightly brackish, though it still counts as a freshwater lake, albeit that there must be some underwater connections to the outside sea since the fish are abundant, darting across the coral formations.

 

 

But the fish never get very big and with so many visitors to the lake every day they are not in the slightest bit scared off by human activity.

 

 

Another island, “just around the corner” from Coron Island is Cagbatan, better known as CYC Island; and this is where everyone seems to come for a beach picnic. With its pure white sand and blue waters, it’s not hard to see why.

 

 

This is one of the few islands around here where mangroves (known locally as bakawan) dominate the area. Some of the root formations are amazing even if the tops of these trees are somewhat underwhelming in comparison.

 

 

CYC Island is also used by many dive operators as a training site location, due to its shallow sandy shoreline that only tapers off to the depths ever so slowly.

 

It’s just as you would imagine yourself to be starring in some castaway film or TV series. Now, who is that handsome fellow staring out to shore?

 

 

Wake up! Wake up! Uh oh… could this have been a dream all along? No, dear blog reader. This is the Philippines!