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WITH A BARELY-RISEN sun
over the mainland to our left and the island, with its glistening
strip of beach, to our right, we trawled the straits that divided
the two outward to Bohol Sea. Daniel, our spotter, sat on the bow,
scanning the open sea ahead for the errant movement of a fin or a
tail while the rest of the boat waited with eager and taut
anticipation. He told me that mornings like this were all too common
to him and bring back the hunts of his childhood—where men
would dive right alongside a whale or whale shark and wrestle with
it, stab a heavy hook into its underbelly, and slowly wear the
creature down by feeding it more line and slowly hauling it back.
When the creature is finally exhausted, a deathblow is struck and
the catch is hauled back to shore. Years back, he managed to take
home the island's record haul of eleven whale sharks in one season;
most seasons' hauls were not as rich while other seasons on end were
not the least bit lucky at all.
Each of the three days we had
gone out to hunt dolphins and whales had been lucky. With our
weapons, the camera and lens, we managed to capture spinner and
bottle-nosed dolphins, but on this particular day, after hours
of circling, our luck seemed to
have finally turned. Suddenly without notice, our larger
companion boat took a sharp turn racing portside, its spotter
calling to our vessel and pointing to a distant spot on the
water. Our banca (small boat) turned quickly, bearing down on
the position. We then saw movement in the water, fins larger than
those of dolphins gracefully appeared for a few beats, then
sub- |
merged only to reappear once
more for a few more seconds before two flukes finally waved
goodbye.
These belonged to pilot
whales, our most fortunate sighting of all. We were whale watching
off Pamilacan Island, Bohol. Located 20 km southeast of Tagbilaran,
the miniscule Pamilacan has grown in importance as an eco-tourism
destination in Bohol and in all of the country. Its coasts are said
to be the breeding grounds and migration paths of several marine
mammals and other large marine creatures. A government ban on hunting
endangered species enacted in 1998 prompted the locals to use
their skills for tourism instead.
The sheer success rate of
spotting sea creatures all year round has resulted in increasing
numbers of eco-tourists and tour operators. Juliet Valeroso (tel:
+ 6338-540-9544 or cell phone'.+63916543 1702;
www.whalewatching.ph), tour operator and my guide on the trip,
explains to me, surprisingly, that most of the tourism on the island
is seabound and hardly do travelers explore the island itself due to
the failure of tourist infrastructure to take root. Pamilacan has
much to offer the virgin-beach aficionado: long, white sand beaches,
crystal clear waters, and flourishing marine life. Surfeited
party-beach hacks might be a bit disappointed—zero bars, an
electricity cutoff time, no air-conditioning. The island is a nature
trip.
Pamilacan,
literally means "the place of the pilak"—the heavy stainless steel
hook-harpoon used to hunt creatures ranging from manta
rays to whale sharks to |
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