Danger in Cuyo

We arrived in Cuyo for the end of holy week (Easter) and with no motorbikes available for hire, checked out the town. At the church built in 1630, the stilts used in the traditional races were laying out leaving me no option but to impress Amanda with some of my childhood skills. Both hers and Michelle’s attempts didn’t really get off the ground.

After returning to Thyme we witnessed the departure of boats filled with holiday makers. The Navy ship giving free passage for 1,500 holidaying Palwanians loaded for 15hrs. The travellers erected tents, hammocks and various other shelters for the trip back to Puerto Princessa.

I wish we had the camera out to catch to goat that was hoisted up before some late arriving passengers.

The motorbikes came through the next day and we left on a tour around the Island. Michelle made me real nervous with questions like where are the brakes and does it have gears??? A foreign concept to a country where everything is automatic. Slowly the road turned into the runway where Amanda thought she could safely give it a try. This of course means she can now advise me of where I am going wrong.

The road looked less and less like a road finally making us stop to check the map. We were looking for some old ruins that can apparently be found on the north side of the island

Armed with local knowledge we got lost a second time and thinking we were close ventured out on foot.

With the help of some farmers we were directed back to the road and found ourselves back at a resort under construction by an Australian guy. Later we found out they were the ruins and the Australians neighbor from Austria was the one who printed the map as a piss take. Old ruins apparently as they have been under construction for 15 years. (...as they say back in Aussie, What an arsehole!)

I would like to say we arrived back safely however this was sadly not the case. Michelle while undertaking a u turn accidently hit the gas and shot off down a bank and into a porch where an 80 year old local was quietly peeling Cashew nuts. A bunch of old ladies waiting for a bus rushed to her aid picking up the gent, his nuts, the porch and the motorbike. Michelle somehow ended up on her feet. We got the bike back on the road and pointed in the right direction we went for lunch. 2 hours later when we passed him again he was sleeping out the front, no doubt all tuckered out after his graze with death. This crash made the skidding by the well and roaring into the undergrowth look relatively harmless.

The good news is the bike was reality unscathed so we celebrated our good fortune back at the wharf over a beer and balut (no Balut for Michele.. yet...).

Cuyo is very popular with Kite boarders between November and March and after talking to the local instructor to get the low down, we are coming back for 2 weeks next year at this time to learn the sport. Can’t wait.

At home in Bonbonon, Negros

At first life in Bonbonon was filled with jobs. Amanda getting the local goss from the other women at the nearby well over the washing and me working out how to tie 2 crates of red horse to the motor bike. By the way the gossip mostly consisted of who was getting it on with the Hubble Hubble driver. (For those not in the know a Hubble Hubble is an extended motorbike that can take up to 5 paying passengers. In English Hubble Hubble translates to pigs copulating… I wonder why?)

We did fit in some sightseeing checking out the damage caused by tropical storm Sendong and snorkeling out the front of the anchorage where we came across a colorful Moray Eel.

After 2 weeks our crew Michelle from New York (previously on the Andamans trip) turned up via 2 planes, motor tricycle, bus, peddle tricycle, Hubble Hubble, dingy… and then we headed south.

For all New Zealand readers we hit pay dirt with local whitebait that tastes like the real thing and costs less than cat food at $1.50 a kilo. Even Sloop was impressed.

Michelle fell victim to the Karaoke bug. I would like to say the fans went wild but that was probably largely because we had no change and put credit for 10 songs on the machine.

Being proper tourists we went and checked out the abandoned copper mine made interesting by the different modes of transport to get there and back and by the people we meet along the way.

Next stop Panay.

Caves on the Camotes & Bilaran

Our stop over on Gigantangan to find the snake cave proved to be a fruitless adventure and finally when we came across a pile of rocks in the middle of nowhere with an old cross sticking out of it we took the hint and turned back. Amanda and Sloop had the right idea staying aboard.

Pacijan Island (part of the Camotes Island group) further south on the other hand had plenty to see with underground pools, caves and inland lakes.

Poro Island where the boat was anchored had waterfalls that you could swim under and more caves.

The fresh water in these caves changes depth with the tide.

Once our bikes were safely delivered back to there owners we grabbed a few supplies, and stopped at one of the many Karaoke bars for Robins benefit on the way back to the boat. These 3 bars are all located almost side by side and the trick is to pick the one with the loudest speakers.

The allusive Whale Sharks is next on the list of must sees, so with our spotters we headed off to southern Leyte.

North to Tablas

Our first stop was the small town of Santa Fe where Marc perfected his bomb on behalf of Germany. He actually came up with 2, the flying air guitar and the Kusseler roll.

The plan was to head from here to Looc stopping at Looc’s fish protection zone and reef along the way for a snorkel. All was going well until an official came out and asked if we had registered. Of course the answer was no but we will do it when we arrive in town AFTER our snorkel. This got him all upset and he raced back to get the big boss who came out in the big boat and escorted us to the shore to the awaiting police one of which told me he had killed 27 political extremists in a gun battle in southern Mindanao some years ago before he was wounded. After having the charges read to us while being recorded and photographed I managed to get our fine reduced from $46 to $9.30. The police kindly gave us a ride to town once all was settled.

Our next town up the west coast of Tablas was San Andres where a family took us under their wing taking us the waterfall in the rain.

The track was washed out in a lot of places but after a successful trip they kindly made us lunch accompanied by Tuba? their wine from the coconut tree.

After Tablas the island of Romblon, home of marble was our destination. Here we hired motorbikes. Our trusty machine turned out not to be so trusty with 2 puncture repairs needing to be attended to under burning pistons and running out of petrol on the way home. Lucky for Amanda it was dark so less people noticed her pushing me to the closest coke bottle filled with fuel. Which turned out to be not so far.

Cruising around El Nido

Surviving New Years Eve celebrations, a trip up the coast by motorbike to see a nearby waterfall sounded like a good idea.

After cooling off we headed back passed a curious local who kept a close eye on Robin.

The hot springs was to be our next stop however we were told the water Buffalo also swim here and the warm water assisted them with there bowel movements. The plan was changed to lunch near the beach. Here Robin almost found a replacement for his size 13 flipper and the chickens were also dining on the sleeping puppies fleas.

The now famous caterpillar was demonstrated to the kids on the beach but their attempts had them landing face first in the sand.

After relaxing over the drink, we packed up the boat and headed out to the islands to where we visited an abandoned church and bbq'd on the beach. The night turned into a bottle of 15-year-old Tanduay and drum beating on Rubicon Star, Amanda wisely heading home with Sloop.

After a painful trip in choppy conditions where we wished we all went home early (except Amanda), we finally anchored. Our anchorage found us in front of a hill in Halsey Harbor. This time it was Pontus who sensibly declined the hill climb. We slashed our way up the first part, Amanda deciding to wait while Robin and I completed the rest of the trip mostly on all fours.

Pontus brought over one of the best tasting Red Horses ever for a cool off once we arrived back at the beach.

Tomorrow we head towards the wrecks in the Calamian Group.

Christmas in Port Barton

Leaving Oyster Inlet we found an anchorage further north of the underground river for the night and after visiting the village headed around the following morning. Getting ashore was a problem because of the surf on the beach so after one successful attempt we hired a spider boat to take the rest of us. Our cave guide paddled us into the cave and explained what vegetable different rock formations looked like between giving Pontus confusing directions on where to point the spot light.

Arriving back at the boat around lunch still gave us plenty of time to get to Jimboom Bay where the guys in the village taught us to play 61, a form of Billiards. The next morning upon departure Robin informed us of good fishing feeling he had… sure enough an hour later he landed a Tuna.

Our plan upon arriving at Port Barton was to travel to Puerto Princessa by motorbike to do some shopping for Christmas. Things didn’t start out well with Andy locking his motorbike keys under the seat at the petrol station.

An hour later we hit the road or more accurately the mud. The locals weren’t joking about the condition of the road. I had so much mud stuck to the front tire the wheel stopped turning making the bike steer more like a snow mobile.

6 hours later we arrived in the big smoke and went to the fanciest restaurant in town to celebrate our good luck in arriving without serious injury. The trip back was not as bad with the weather gods smiling down on us.

While we were away the swell had crept into our anchorage so first thing Christmas morning we upped anchor and moved to a small island 2 miles away where the water was flat. Robin and Pontus demonstrated the Swedish bomb known as the flying Otter or maybe in Pontus’s case the falling Otter.

Not having turkey, ham etc we settled for spit roasted chicken for Christmas lunch after the present opening. Sloop was more impressed with the wrapping paper than the boots he received. After too many beers we headed over to the Island to find the Karaoke bar we could hear and pumped out a few tunes, me not included.

National Parks - Sarawak

We decided Gunung Gading National park, home of the Rafflesia was to be our first visit being the furtherest away, a 2.5 hour scooter trip.

The endangered Rafflesia is the worlds largest flower found only in this area, takes 9 months to mature and can be over a meter in diameter. It flowers for 4-5 days and gives off a smell similar to rotting meat to attract fly’s and other insects for pollination.

After the flower we found a near by waterfall to wash off the road grime. Some of the local inhabitants considered us possible food, nipping at our feet if we stood still for too long.

Absorbed in all the wild life living around the stream we didn’t notice the clouds rolling over until it was to late. It appears to be called RAIN forest for a good reason. It pissed down leaving us with no choice but to ride back to the village to purchase raincoats for our trip home. Maybe an early start would be a wiser move tomorrow when a visit to Semenggoh Nature Reserve to see the Orang utans was planned. It’s not guaranteed that you will see them, but if there is not much food in the jungle they will come to the park for an easy meal.
We were in luck.

We were told that it’s best to only stay in the feeding area for a short time as the Orangutans get annoyed and have been known to throw sticks and snakes at the tourists. With that advice, and having seen the pictures of some of the wounds inflicted by bites we were only too happy to move along when told.

Detouring through town to pick up some charts for the Rejang River system and lunch we slowly made our way back to the boat before the afternoon rain.

Koh Lanta - Old Town

The trip from our peaceful anchorage behind Ko Muk to Ko Lanta was as expected a little rolly.




Motor bikes were again the order of the day for exploring the island. We went south first thing having to shelter in a interesting resort for a number of hours to wait for the rain to ease.


Having discovered we went the wrong way, we made our north and crossed the island in search of a waterfall and caves. After skillfully navigation our way past the guides with elephants, we made our way up the slippery clay track following our nose. When the bikes could go no further we continued on foot.

Finally after a half hour jungle tramp we found the elusive waterfall without the assistance of a guide where I got my first thai massage.

The trip back to old town wasn’t without event. Trevor on the lead bike sustained a fall, resulting in the loss of a small amount of blood and 5,000 baht. Not sure what hurt most…