ABW Sept 2018-1

Words by
BRUCE
CURRAN
Photographs
as credited
Below: Fisherfolk
Middle: The Lenz
Meret
Center: Boarding
the Lenz Meret
I
n the last decade, I have been fortunate enough
to sail some 8000 mile through different regions
in the Philippines,. Curiously though, it left me
increasingly frustrated. With my boat’s draft of 2
meters, I was so concerned about coral shallows and
running aground that I tended to stay away from
the coasts, and consequently felt as though I was
missing much of the beauty of these islands. The
scenery is spectacular, but passing by closer in,
occasionally stepping ashore for lunch or just for
a wander seemed so much more interesting, and I
found myself increasingly unable to resist.
Finally the day arrived when my curiosity saw me run
aground on a reef. Stuck fast, I watched while the
local bancas (native outriggers, often motorized)
sped around me. Grounded from 7pm till 3.30 am,
I had a lot of time to think of future travel plans,
and how the shallow draft of bancas is a supreme
advantage in these waters.
Seagoing bancas are over 15 meters long, built of
ply laid over a supporting frame of local hardwood
and mostly rigged with bamboo outriggers on both
sides of the main hull. These days most of them
are motorized, generally using Japanese truck
engines adapted for marine use. Drawing less than
the water of my sailboat, they could go where my
expensive plaything could not, gliding over reefs
and running right up onto the sandy beaches that
skirt most of the islands. The slow pace of a sailboat
may be magical if you have the luxury of time on
your hands, but with a diesel engine, you can cover
a lot more ground. The seed of an idea for a more
intimate way to explore local coastal communities
was germinating.
With over 7,500 islands, any serious exploration of
the Philippines means taking to the water at some
point. In many urbanized parts of the country the
roads are nightmarishly choked with traffic; in more
rural areas, they are sometimes scarcely drivable.
By contrast, the waterways are free and open and
un-crowded. The water is frequently an inviting
turquoise, warm and chock-full of marine life.
Around 70% of the country’s settlements are shore
based, and offer a ready way to experience the
famously warm Filipino welcome given to visitors.
There are also plenty of beach resorts in the most
beautiful parts of the country to call home for the
night, where the banca can be beached nearby,
ready for the next day’s excursion.
I realized I was on to something. In a sailboat I
had always stuck out like a sore thumb, giving
an impression of extortionate wealth in a country
where subsistence is the norm for many. With a
banca, I would be demonstrating an appreciation
of local craftsmanship and know-how, and by
employing local guides I would be bringing an extra,
unlooked-for source of income to a remote area.
After much hunting and many enquiries a suitable
17 meter banca was located, and I plotted a 500
mile route through the region named Mimaropa
(this name comes from the first two letters of
the region’s main islands: Mindoro, Marinduque,
Romblon and Palawan). Four crewmen, namely
30