Romblon, hey! (2)
This weekend, I did for my mother what I failed to do for my father. I took her to a trip. It’s not to an exotic place somewhere abroad. I took her to exotic place somewhere here in the Philippines. (By the time I had money to take Papa to trips like I would describe here, he has physically weakened already.)
As usual, I found it very hard to tear myself away from work. We have to finish our Marawi and Mindanao IOM video docu by month’s end. That is like, this week! But Mama, Rambo (the Mutt), and Aunti Iring have already arrived from Isabela and there was no postponing this one. I did it many times to Papa. I won’t do it to Mama the first time she agreed to leave Auitan after Papa died.
This one is doing right by the only parent I have left.
And for the wife whose summer would have slipped past again without me going swimming with her.
And for the woman who helped our family the most despite having the least in Papa’s last years—Quirina Gammaru Dabo.
Still, mahalaga rin ang pakikibaka. So I brought the laptop and typed the night and boat trip away refining our video script. I did not mind much that the boat was running on only one engine and delayed us by six hours. It only meant I had more time to write and sleep in air-conditioned comfort.
We docked at Odiongan, Romblon before noon. Before two in the afternoon, we were beneath Mt. Payaopao’s peak, dipping our toes on the crystal clear waters of San Agustin’s beaches.
After a hearty lunch, we were offered use of a boat to go to a small bay curiously called “Baha.” In Isabela, when the mighty Cagayan River breached it banks, “baha” means months of hardship for farmers. In Manila, when rainwater can not escape because of clogged drainage, “baha” means leptospirosis and happy kids on España. In Romblon, “Baha” means a short stretch of gravelly beach that offers excellent snorkelling. On the way there, the beauty of sheer limestone cliffs on our left and rainbow-decorated seascape on our right already made up for the trouble of going to this isolated place.
After some test dips, I commandeered my wife’s precious snorkelling gear and never let go. Good thing I bought her an underwater camera bag so she was happy just taking pictures of fishes.
At first, I contented myself with swimming around the boat. Only a passable swimmer at best, I was afraid to venture out where I knew there would be more ishes. But Pom kept goading me, pointing to where the huge sea urchins and blue starfishes were.
Eden chimed in, telling me where I would see more schools of bright-colored coral fishes. But even when the local kids were showing me up, I stayed within a patsy’s distance from the boat.
But pretty soon I was venturing farther out without me noticing. I saw
dozens of fish species when I was happy with just a few. All the fishes I saw in malls and aquarium channels do not compare. At Baha, beneath Mt. Payaopao, fishes flirt or fight with each other, they flit in and out of corals and rocks, they nibble at seaweed that sway whichever way the waves went. The farther I went and the deeper the water was, the bigger the fishes and their schools became. With only my breathing and the fishes’ clicking in my ears, I now understand why Pom and Eden were such snorkelling addicts.
With the help of a kid, I saw a huge blue starfish perched atop a rock. I rushed over to Pom, this time to take the camera away from her. I swam back to where I saw the five-legged beauty and took aim dead center. That shot was the camera’s last before its batteries conked out.
Most unforgettable was when I was surrounded by a large school of dilis. There were flashes of silver whenever they changed directions. Otherwise, they were such a heavy mass it was dark all around me.
Mama and Auntie Iring had fun. Of course, Pom and Eden had too. I had a blast. It’s the marine sanctuary tomorrow for us. I had to see a big sea cucumber.
Ang ganda ng Romblon. Ang ganda ng dagat. Ang ganda ng bundok. Ang ganda ng Pilipinas. Pinakamaganda ang asawa ko.
Wala ng mga nito sa Iste-eyts!
