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Romblon: La Isla Bonita
In N.V.M. Gonzales's story Look, Stranger, on This Island Now, Rizal, gazing upon Romblon as his ship sailed past it, uttered, "Esta isla muy bonita pero muy triste (This island is very beautiful but very sad)." Romblon does inspire both awe and melancholy, a mix I was able to explore further when I went there on assignment. I first encountered the island in the mid-70s when Negros Navigation offered tours to different destinations in the Visayan islands. After our boat docked in the middle of the ocean, we all clambered on a speedboat and were whisked away to a white beach that had an open tent set up where lunch was served. Having seen white sand only in pictures, and my only experience of the beach being the black sand of Cavite, I was truly amazed that it did exist in this country. A couple of years later, when I traveled to the United States and saw their beaches for the first time, I was so smug I even commented to my cousin, "'Eto ba ang white sand niyo? Eh sa Romblon lang pala hindi na kayo aabante." Unfortunately, this beautiful collection of islands is hardly in the minds, much less the itinerary, of tourists foreign or local. Composed of three major islands and 17 smaller ones, the whole of Romblon really is a haven for ecotourism. In the capital Romblon alone, there are 40 identified dive spots, plotted by Josef, the Swiss owner of Cabanbanan Beach & Dive Resort. A certified dive instructor, Josef can truly send you on some of the most beautiful diving experiences in the island. A 20-minute pump boat ride from Romblon, Romblon will take you to the shores of his resort. Wife Wilma, whose exotic features have besotted Josef, prepares breakfast as queen of the kitchen. With four cottages and a dormitory this resort, tucked away from street noise and pollution, is ideal for honeymooners or people who shudder at the ubiquitous clatter of tricycles in the provinces. A poetic talisay tree and star tree stand proudly at the entrance, providing much-needed shade from the scorching sun. At Romblon, Romblon, we were introduced to the province's most famous resource and export: marble. Ernesto Santiago, or Erning as he is called (not to be mistaken for the famous couturier), owns a marble handicraft business. Without any high-powered tools, this practically impenetrable material is carved and shaped into forms and figures that can range from the lowly "almires" or mortar and pestle, to gigantic Korean men in traditional garb, to temple dogs as tall as 6 feet (don't ask me why those lion-looking figures guarding Chinese structures are called dogs). With the unbelievably low prices, I couldn't help but buy a couple of polar bears—I assume they were meant to be polar bears because they were made of white marble—that I found simply adorable. Of course, trying to get them back to Manila when you're taking public transport is a whole other story. But it's just unfortunate that such beautiful material and remarkable skill are rarely, if at all, appreciated by the majority in this country. Most of the pieces being carved were actually orders by art lovers from overseas. Moving on, we were brought to the only colonial church in the province, the St. Joseph Cathedral. Built in the 17th century, this quaint church is appropriate to the size of the province's own quaint town. The exterior was preserved, while the interiors were redone with—what else—marble, of course. From where the mass is celebrated to the lectern, everything was in marble. Personally, I felt that they could have capitalized on the many other colors of marble, of course in appropriate aesthetic circumstances, so that people will also get a sense of what the province has to offer in terms of this material. Another colonial structure that we visited was a fort, much like Fort Santiago. But Fort San Andres is definitely much smaller than its Manila counterpart. Set atop a hill, right next to a weather station, this fort could remind one of the Borobudur of Indonesia or the Angkor Wat of Cambodia. Forgotten by history, it was only recently overrun by a jungle, with vegetation taking over practically every nook and cranny. But as luck would have it, we got there just as an Australian resident, together with other expat volunteers, had cleared it from all its debris and exposed its adobe walls. It was interesting that there were port holes for canons—and truly, the sight from the fort was really something to behold. But then, valiant efforts can only do so much. These volunteers are hoping that they could get funding before it's too late. Of course, that weather station has to go… somewhere. After a bit of colonial history, we were taken to another marble manufacturer. Just as I suspected, except for a few pieces, the forms that I saw here were almost the same as those from the previous manufacturer. It may be down to a lack of creativity or clientele, I assume. Hopefully, it's not both. Nearby is a restaurant owned by a German-Filipino family. Called Three P's, it's named after the owners' three sons—Peter, Philip, and Patrick. We met Patrick, who just arrived from Germany, and his father Oswald and mother Sally. It's rather interesting that, serving only authentic German cuisine, they can actually get most of their ingredients locally. Their meat, however, is imported all the way from Germany. That's how authentic it gets. After a hearty meal of meat and pasta, we checked out other interesting activities like pinipig making (I finally got to see how this is done after all these years), rice harvesting and threshing, a new marine sanctuary initiated by local residents, and a turtle conservation area. Discovering such projects is truly heartwarming because it gives one hope that we Filipinos actually care about our environment and that not all our activities are motivated by economic gain. This long day was capped by a stay in a most beautiful resort. The San Pedro Beach Resort in Talipasak, Brgy. Ginablan definitely has élan and flair. Capitalizing on the beautiful flora available in the country, part-owner and operator Mina Mingoa has turned their family property into a resort that the province can be proud of. It can be a horticulturist's heaven. From the main dining hall that faces the ocean, a path leads to the cabanas, along which are lush plants that create a cool environment. For practical reasons, these plants also help prevent soil erosion especially with every cabana sitting on a slope. All the elements come together to create a setting to enjoy a spirited discussion of life's meanings and trivialities with Mina, a former literature teacher. After a more than satisfactory sleep—I had opened the curtains to let the air in; it was like sleeping outside—I took an early morning snorkel. It was a little mundane at first but upon further exploration, I found what I called the "jack-spot." Suffice it to say that this little-known paradise can give any resort in the country a run for its money. One more surprise was the cost of a stay in this little paradise—as low as P670/day per head, inclusive of three meals. Where can you get a better deal? From Romblon, Romblon, we proceeded to the major island of Tablas. With nine municipalities, it is the biggest island in the province's 20-island agglomeration. As we alighted from a very pleasant banca ride, we were greeted by the island's tourism representative, who is not only a certified open sea diver, but a dive master-in-training—how much more appropriate can she be for the job? Because of my fondness for snorkeling, our love for the underwater was common ground. First stop was a raffia weaving plant, where we were treated to a demonstration of how beautiful "fabrics" made of raffia are woven. Combining cotton fibers with raffia, it was truly a delight to see—colors were bright, their sense of design refreshing, and their creative spirits very spontaneous. As in most traditional crafts, marketing is the major concern. I just hope that such beautiful traditions can prosper for our own national pride and identity. From raffia weaving, we proceeded to what was to be a true eye-opener for our party. We went to San Agustin, a tiger grass manufacturing barangay. What exactly is tiger grass? We all know it as the omnipresent "walis tambo." As we entered, we saw "fronds" of tiger grass being dried along the road. So why don't I see these grasses in Baguio? Well, guess what, the touted Baguio walis tambo is not from Baguio at all. They are all from Romblon. It was so amusing, almost comical, to see these walis tambo being manufactured in Romblon, in the island of Tablas, with all their handles inscribed with "Baguio City." I call it colonial mentality, local version. These brooms are all orders and will be brought all the way to Baguio where they are sold. It begs the question, "Do they make brooms with the inscription 'Romblon?'" The answer is yes. And how do they distinguish these brooms from the ones they send to Baguio? They apparently make the ones with the inscription "Romblon" thicker. I am neither endorsing Romblon nor casting aspersions on Baguio, but it could give you something to think about the next time you buy a broom from the Summer Capital of the Philippines. From Brgy. San Agustin, we passed the town of Sta. Maria whose population of 9,000+ is unheard of for a Manileño (At this point I still had not come across Calatrava's 7,000+. Isn't that just one barangay in Manila?). And indeed there was hardly a soul on the streets. We proceeded to Looc's much-anticipated marine sanctuary. A 15-minute pump boat ride took us to the sanctuary in the middle of the ocean. After we anchored on a floating raft, I snorkeled. What greeted me was truly amazing. The sand was unmistakably powdery white. Stag horn corals in bright purple were bountiful. Fish of different shapes and sizes swarmed in front of me—bat fish crisscrossing one another, ever-colorful parrot fish putting on a display. What is even more amazing is that this sanctuary is not the only one in the area. Our guides spoke of a dive site a few meters away that has impressed practically every diver who has seen it. And even that area is not a plotted dive site. Such is Romblon's wealth when it comes to aquatic adventure. From Looc, we proceeded to Aglicay Beach Resort, owned and operated by Mr. and Mrs. Willy Martinez, a retired husband-and-wife team. They practically own the entire mountain at whose foot the beach rests. Bequeathed with an expansive white sand shoreline, the resort stands before the Sibuyan Sea where one of the greatest naval battles of WWII played out. It was fascinating to hear Willy Martinez recount the battle as he watched it as a child of 10. Unfortunately, the wrecks are too deep for diving. Maybe technical divers can do it. This resort is so expansive that it's almost impossible to feel locked in despite its distance from the main road. One of the resort's highlights is a trail that leads to the peak of a small hill where a vista of the peninsula can be seen. Sadly, the waves were a little daunting that day so I wasn't able to sneak in a snorkeling expedition. But if I were to trust the stories, this resort is also a testament to the beauty of Romblon, both atop the mountain (or hill in this case) and under the sea. The next day was devoted to seeing Romblon's center of commerce, Odiongan. Even though the streets are narrow and most of them were occupied, the congestion could hardly compare to what you find in more populous provinces in the Philippines. Odiongan is a coastal town with its own beach—the pier is located here—but it cannot rival the white sands of Looc or Aglicay. The day was hectic. From Odiongan, we traveled almost two hours to the northern town of Calatrava. Calatrava is also, unmistakably, a coastal town. The mayor graciously accompanied us to a pocket beach called Lapus-lapus. The pump boat ride was a little longer than expected, taking almost half an hour to reach the site. But boy, what a site. Nestled between two rock formations, Lapus-lapus beach is almost a cove in itself. It truly is magical because the waves that we experienced in the open sea seemed to have ground to a halt as we entered the cove. And even before we were in the cove, the clear emerald waters were begging to be swam in. The name "Lapus-lapus" translates into "lagos-lagos" (in Filipino), meaning "thru and thru." A passage has formed in one of the rock formations, where the water from the sea can be captured in a small lagoon. In other words, the water goes "thru and thru." A few huts stand on the beach but thankfully enough, they are hidden behind some of the vegetation. This cove actually reminds me of the beaches in Palawan where you can be dropped off and picked up at particular times so that you can have the whole place to yourself. Not far from this cove is another beach called Tinagong Dagat, whose name literally translates into "Hidden Sea." Unfortunately, because of time constraints, we had to leave Calatrava, but with the hope that one day, we can come back to discover what treasures are hidden in Tinagong Dagat. From Calatrava, we traveled to San Andres town, where we were treated to another kind of aquatic wonder: waterfalls. After winding thru a dirt road passing Amorsolo-esque vignettes of farmers tilling soil with their carabaos and children walking on pilapils on their way to school, the Mablaran Falls in Barangay Linawan is a just reward for its willing patrons. Not very high, Marblaran offers a natural setting that is a most enchanting respite to urban dwellers whose idea of waterfalls is from shower stalls with multiple heads. The rush of the waters into a pond is hypnotic and bewitching. Its top is so accessible that there were campers on the ledge when we got there. The last stop we made was a fishing village tucked away from any form of land transportation. At Ferrol's fishing village, we were greeted by a stretch of white sand dotted by small fishing boats. The clear waters had dark patches underneath that were obviously coral reefs. Donning on our snorkeling gear, we proceeded to "attack" the water for our insatiable need to discover what it had to offer. Not as exciting as the other snorkeling sites, Ferrol's coastal village did have its own unique elements. Our guide, the dive master-in-training, was diving and coming up with succulent sea urchins that are priced like gold in Japanese restaurants. But here, "uni" is yours for the taking. After five days of making our way in and around the islands of Romblon and Tablas, we still had not seen half of what this island province has to offer. We were not able to go to Sibuyan Island, the second largest island of the cluster, where the famous Mount Guiting-guiting lies. When I was still mountain climbing almost 30 pounds ago, I would hear of this famous mountain and how treacherous and beautiful it is. Mount Guiting-guiting is by no means considered a fun climb. It is not for the faint of heart but meant for those with nerves of steel. Aside from Guiting-guiting, Sibuyan, we were told, also has aquatic wonders. Then there is Carabao Island where the divers from Boracay actually dive. After seeing Romblon for the second time, I am sure I will be back. Rizal may have found the island "muy triste," but that's only because no one knew how to snorkel and dive then. I am the lucky one because I know why it truly is "muy bonita." |
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