Bada Boom, Bada Butanding!

So . . .

Swimming with whale sharks (or Butanding) was not so bad. In fact, it was pretty cool. And calm. I had nothing to worry about. Let me give a quick recap:

An hour's flight from Manila, we landed in Legaspi, on the eastern side of the country, where there had been flooding in the weeks prior. We took a van to the port, where we were rerouted in a banca boat to our destination: Shoreline Resort. I had mentioned that the place would be crap and the food would be crap. Neither were crap. Turns out, no one had actually stayed at this particular place before and we were the guinea pigs. We had three little air-conditioned rooms all in a row. We had the place to ourselves. The staff was very laid back and super accommodating. They kept the fridge stocked with San Migs (the local beer), which we almost drank them out of. There was a large undercover area for playing the infamous bocce ball or cards (Canasta is a new fave) and since we were privy to many drizzles, this allowed us to stay outside, yet escape the rain. The food was surprisingly good. Cory and I had brought an entire suitcase filled only with food. We ended up not ordering lunches and the six of us snacked on the stuff so it wouldn't go to waste. It was quiet aside from the cock (no pun intended) that woke us up at 4 am each morning. No complaints.

Now for the real reason behind the trip. While the pictures don't show it, I will briefly describe the experience associated with four trips out to locate and swim with the whale sharks in Donsol: you wake up at 6:45. You eat breakfast. You put on your gear and you head down the beach to meet your guide and board the banca that will motor its way through the murky waters in search of fins sticking above the surface. You wait patiently, chatting away until one of the spotters yells for you to get ready. You jump up, slip on your fins, pull on your mask and snorkel, all the while ripping your hair out in the excitement, and position yourself on the edge of the boat, prepared to slip off at a moment's notice. The driver maneuvers the boat so it is parallel with the shark that he can only see the shadow of, which given the light, is extremely difficult. When the guide yells, "Go!" you scramble for a last breath, wait your turn and jump in the water. The current propels you in the direction you're meant to go and you look up real quick to find the guide who will direct you to the whale shark. He'll point down, you'll look and see nothing but a deep sea green. The guide, if you are lucky like I was, will grab your arm, thrust you forward and move you along until suddenly, he'll point downwards and there, right in front of your face, is the massive spotted body of some creature you've only seen in photos. You get so excited that you look up to tell everyone. But, no one is there to hear it because everyone else is busy tracking the shark. In your haste, you look back down and realize that you've missed him. You've only caught a glimpse. You curse yourself, make your way back to the boat, try to get your body back onto the boat with your fins still attached to your feet, then wait for the next sighting. The next time out, you are prepared. You jump in again, the guide pushes you forward, you look down and see it, and then you keep your eyes on it, swimming like mad to keep up. You swim like that, your legs and arms aching from the strain, until you can't take it anymore, which for me, was about five minutes. You finally come up for air and you smile and laugh and scream in enthusiasm. You have just done something so unique and feel elated for the sighting, grateful for the push from the guide and proud for keeping up with it for so long. You continue like this as often as the spotter can spot them and each time is exciting and different.

Or, if you're Cory, you scramble out of the boat, get jumped on by other anxious whale shark seekers, lose your mask and snorkel and come up gasping for air.

Or, in the rush of getting your gear sorted, you miss the sighting altogether.

Luckily, all six of us were able to view the whale sharks. The pictures don't do the experience justice. You'll just have to trust me.

Besides the sharks, we enjoyed an evening firefly cruise along the river, and didn't really enjoy a half an hour of slight paranoia due to the fact that our firefly banca got stranded on a sandbar about a mile offshore and had to be rescued by another boat. We also had some phosphorescence fun, several bocce ball tournaments, tense card games, a ton of laughs and above all, we came away with a new slogan for the local brew-ha-ha: Swig the Mig! Cheers to good times.

Yours Truly

Shannon and Craig

Joni and Adam

Cheers to Butanding! (and fireflies and San Migs and . . .)