Whether you’re looking for a trek into steamy rainforests to see orang utans or a relaxing boat ride to spot the beautiful hornbill or oriental darter, you’ll find it in Borneo’s interior around the Kinabatangan River. But, if you hope for a “rocking” experience led by a group of local Malays, consider Uncle Tan’s Jungle Adventure. With five local guides rocking mohawks, highlights, and long hair, you might think you’re arriving for a concert in the jungle — not two days of nature watching. We soon discovered we would get both as the guitars would come out after each “expedition” and the very knowledgeable guides who were just reciting the scientific name of a bird, were now wailing their own rendition of Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours. When the sun goes down, the local rice wine comes out and the guests are welcomed to the jungle with swigs of the spirit.
Without a dull moment, we went on early morning, day, and night boat rides and treks, observing ginger orang utans watching us quietly from the safety of their high branches (look closely at the photos). The long tail macaques were too abundant to point out after a while, but were amazing to watch as families would sit together on a tree limb over the water, tails hanging as they patiently groomed each other and ate grass roots. We saw the agile gibbon whose long arms afford them the ability to swing quickly over tremendous distances from tree to tree. The very unusual and rare proboscis monkey (found only in Borneo), whose bulbous and droopy nose likens a Dr. Seuss character, sat in families as a mother craddled her baby in such a human manner.
Between our scans from one river bank to another, we also saw the unusual pied hornbill, the colorful kingfisher, massive serpent eagle, and storm stork among many birds. I can now see the allure of bird watching, thanks Uncle Tan’s. At night we quietly crept down the river to see some crocodiles, a civet, and many sleeping birds in the trees lining the river bank. There was so much wildlife about that even the bathrooms were like an insect zoo, with a five-inch millipede taking the prize. At the conclusion, our guides wrote down the wildlife we saw, reaching 69 species of life. I would have been happy with 15, honestly.
The adventure was exciting, but visiting this area highlighted some harsh realities. The 2-hour journey to the jungle camp ended with a solid 45-minute drive through a massive palm oil plantation, the industry that has deforested a large portion of the Borneon habitat. As we rode upstream in a little outboard motorboat the effects were visible. In spots where palm plantations nearly reach the river, a one-tree thick line of trees has been preserved to connect patches of reserve land so that apes can travel from one patch of jungle to another. These lines of trees are called “corridors of life” and without them, the orang utan and other tree dwelling creatures become isolated — not reproducing, and even starving. A sad reality to the booming industry of vegetable oil.
To get out to Uncle Tan’s Jungle Camp, we embarked on a 3 day/2 night tour from their base camp in Sepilok with about 16 other people. A 2-hour van ride brought us right to the grand, muddy Kinabatangan River, where we took a short boat ride to the camp.
Our accommodation was an open air hut hosting three mattress pads each with a mosquito net and a great view of a little swam from the porch. The aluminum roof overhead echoed the sounds of anything falling on it, and one night we woke to two monkeys fighting above us. Showers came in the form of big blue barrels from which river water could be scooped and poured from buckets. We passed on the shower. The food was great and the staff seemed to come from some sort of a punk rock Disney World — really hip but super friendly and accommodating, apologizing for their “jungle english,” which I thought was pretty good. The staff was friendly from the start: Welcome to the jungle! And Don’t be shy! You shy, you die. All the way to the last minute: as we left the entire staff gathered around the dock waving to us, strumming and singing/yelling the chorus to James Blunt’s Goodbye My Lover… goodbye my friend.
We spent a Saturday night at Uncle Chang’s, when the quiet little wooden resort hosts a full blown party with a live band, a local kid dancing for endless entertainment, and Uncle Chang himself handing out pints of whiskey and cans of coke like candy. And though I was a little hard on Uncle Chang’s for their diving gear and food, the social atmosphere is great and the location beautiful. There are some pictures above of this night, mostly to share with the people pictured, as well as a few shots from our room including the villages over the water that we could see out our back window.
There were five sea turtles in view when Nate grabbed my fin frantically to show me that there was another just grazing my head, its belly skimming over my floating wisps of hair. The fish were so colorful and plentiful we didn’t know where to look as we descended to 35 meters down a 600-meter wall in hopes of seeing hammerhead sharks. The site is Sipadan, a diving mecca just off the coast of Malaysian Borneo that is commonly listed as one of the world’s Top 10 Dive Sites. And though the hammerheads never showed, we saw hawksbill and green turtles; loads of black tip, white tip and gray reef sharks; huge napoleon wrasse and humphead parrotfish; thick, swarming schools of trevally; batfish; the elaborate clown triggerfish and beautiful red-toothed triggerfish; all kinds of boxfish (my favorite); and the highlight of one dive: an eagle ray “flying” effortlessly through the blue water.
We spent three days and two nights on the nearby island of Mabul at Uncle Chang’s, a dive outfitter that also provided budget room and board (or maybe the other way around) in a wooden lodge that sits above the water off the coast of the small island. Here we had a modest private room with a sunset view over the Celebes Sea, three (edible) meals a day and a large common area comprised of a sun deck and a dining area.
Day one began as we arrived at Uncle Chang’s and got fitted with some of the worst dive equipment I’ve ever seen, but I guess that’s what happens when you go with the budget option and we’re still here to tell the story. We then set out with a group of three other divers who we got along with quite well: Lucas, Sylvia and Yerk from Germany. We did two dives around Mabul and one at Kapalai, another island in the region. The sites around Mabul are known for the world’s best “muck-diving” — that is, searching for the macro marine life — and the area definitely lived up to its reputation. Throughout the dive we would hear the divemaster tap on his tank for our attention to show us something, and as soon as we finished looking we would hear the tink tink tink of the other DM with another great little creature. Among them: cuttlefish, octopus, nudi branches, peacock mantis shrimp, frogfish (in three different colors), crocodile fish, turtles and tons of colorful, tropical fish.
That night, after the boys finished a night dive where they saw massive sleeping sea turtles (Nate insists that we could both have fit into its shell), we returned to Uncle Chang’s to find a band playing and a party just getting started. We had just missed dinner, so they made a fresh batch of food for us and Uncle Chang himself started filling our table with cans of coke and bottles of Filipino rum. A good time was had by all and let’s just say that day two was not so eventful, though we managed to go snorkeling once.
On day three we took a 30-minute boat ride out to Sipadan where we checked in and headed to the dive site. In 2000 there was a kidnapping/hostage situation in Sipadan and for security purposes (often masked as conservation), there is no accommodation on the island, the number of divers per day is restricted, divers must arrange permits and sign in upon arrival, and a military boat and personnel are constantly present — but once you’re underwater, none of this matters. There are so many fish we felt like we were swimming in an aquarium and each day after diving we could be found flipping through the resident fish book at Uncle Chang’s to identify and learn about what we had found. Our final dive at Sipadan, Barracuda Point, was relatively shallow so we brought Nate’s camera along. Between this dive and some photos taken while snorkeling Mabul, we have a few pictures of the wealth of life we saw down there.
Since Nate and I began diving six months ago, we’ve heard all about Sipadan and Mabul in diving circles throughout Southeast Asia. Traveling here felt almost like a pilgrimage and having set the bar so high, it will be hard to find diving that compares.
We spent the better part of two weeks staying at Sea Dive Resort in Coron Town. The waterfront restaurant of the resort is sort of the “it” place to be in town, and as such we met quite a few people in our time there. One morning we met an American couple: Judith and Teddy. Both are successful business people who, over the course of a few days, inspired Nate and I and bestowed a great deal of advice upon us. Teddy was born in the Philippines and at 12-years-old made the journey over to the states to live with his family in the neighborhood of Echo Park in Los Angeles. He now spends half the year in Coron working on various projects: boat building, maintaining a banana farm, buying islands, caring for three young girls and now breaking into the political scene of the area.
Teddy and Judith invited us along on a boat trip to a nearby island that Teddy owns. To board the boat we took a 10-minute walk, balancing on wooden planks over septic water winding between small homes to Teddy’s traditional no-frills Filipino house. The girls sat on the bow like they were born to be on the water. We then went to his banana farm for lunch. Sadly, no bananas, or pineapples, or jackfruit were ripe for picking, but we had a delightful lunch and the girls entertained us by picking up our cameras and having a mini photo shoot.
The advantage of long term travel shines through when you have the time to meet people and spend your days on unique and unexpected jaunts. On the way back from the banana farm we were at a loss for transportation so we stood out on the road (all seven of us) and waited until a truck carrying a load of beer bottles (empty and full) stopped to give us a lift. What a day.
It began as a single night camping trip to an uninhabited private island, but in the end was a 5-day/4-night stay on Banana Island, a small island populated by the Philippino family who owns it, with a couple of huts and a rustic pavillion for day trippers.
We paired up with Santiago and Paula, a couple from Argentina who, like us, have been traveling for months. We had approached them originally about joining us on the aforementioned camping trip when they came back with the suggestion to spend a little more time away from Coron Town on this island. We would share the cost of the boat, stay in “rustic accommodation” and would need to bring our own food and water. Our interest was piqued. Two days later, we took a 1.5 hour bangka ride out to the island where we spent the next five days just enjoying ourselves: kayaking to nearby islands, swimming in the bright aqua water, basking in the sun on the white sandy beach, eating our own homecooked meals, and snorkeling a protected reef in which fish are truly flourishing. The island was small (I walked the entire perimeter in about an hour), which made for an intimate and friendly few days. The family had a little kitchen in the middle we could use for cooking, which was also a great place to chat with the modest family about the rich lifestyle of owning an island.
The huts were simple but charming. There was no running water, but something about walking off the beach into your hut soaking wet from the ocean and rinsing off with a bucket of fresh water actually feels like a proper shower. With the windows open at night we fell asleep to the sound of the waves lapping on the sand and were kept cool by the salty air twisting through our room.
Our boatman showed up after dark, soaking wet on the evening we expected to leave and announced that we should stay the night because of the strong winds. The family let us sleep in our huts for free on the final night (such great, friendly service) and we headed back to Coron Town at 6:30am the following day. When we woke up bright and early the wind hadn’t exactly subsided, but at least it was light outside. Two to three meter swells thoroughly soaked us and rocked the little bangka hard. It took us twice as long to return as it had to arrive. We’ll call it an adventure.
If anyone reading this is interested in staying on Banana Island, contact the owner, Violeta at 09214741602. The huts are basic (no running water, electricity only at night) and cost P700 per person per night. For the boat, you can contact Jhong at 09084499523. It’s P4500 for the return trip.
Coron Bay is famous for wreck diving and tourism in this area seems to be thriving because of it. And though the diving was the initial draw, visitors are now flocking here for the top notch island hopping.
We’ve spent two days on rented bangkas island hopping, and two days kayaking to the best snorkeling spot we’ve found in the area. The first day in Coron Town we shared a hired bangka (P1500 or $30 for the day) with two Slovenian girls and did (most of) what they call the Coron Island Loop. The island is about a 20 minute ride from Coron Town and is managed and protected by its indigenous people, the Tagbanua. Here we took a short hike to Lake Kayangan whose crystal clear waters sit in a bowl created by the island’s mountainous interior, swam through an underwater cave to Twin Lakes where we could see and feel a thermocline, snorkeled and ate lunch at the aptly named Seven Islands Marine Sanctuary, and finished the day at the site of a sunken fishing boat called Skeleton Wreck.
We were so impressed with the wealth of fish and coral at Seven Islands (not to mention the stunning scenery above the water), that we’ve twice rented a kayak and paddled to the spot. There’s a resident school of batfish there that are not shy and have a reputation for following people around. You can see in the photos how close they’ll get, taking a quick nip at your snorkel if dangled in front of them. On our second trip we met Mars, a student of Marine Biology who’s studying the fish in the area and brought us to his research center: a hut on a floating platform surrounded by nets attached to a wooden structure to form cages, which he has full of different fish brought to him by as bycatch from local fishermen. We got to swim in these “cages” which included a shovel head shark, a black tip shark, eels, “gatorfish”, and many others. When his research is complete, he’ll release the fishies through a program run out of Manila.
Yesterday we were craving the water yet again so we hired a bangka to take us to a couple of relaxing spots to snorkel and have lunch. The pier in Coron is reached by walking through the public market, so both days on the boat we bought fruits, veggies, rice and fish (less than $1.50 for a kilo of tuna – not bad!) and the boatmen cooked lunch for us. The first spot was an island surrounded by coral (better in some parts than others) and lined with two small beaches, large rocks and a mangrove. We swam around the entire island in about 1.5 hours and returned to the boat for lunch. The second spot was a bit deeper, providing walls and pinnacles to be explored.
I feel like we haven’t scratched the surface of exploring the islands in the area – as every island we visit, we pass a few others. Our next adventure is taking a boat about two hours from Coron Town to a private island and sticking around in one of the rustic huts for a few nights. Stay tuned.
The landscape around Busuanga Island is exquisite but the history of Coron Bay is what has put the island on the map, especially for wreck diving. The historical chapter relevant for divers began September 24, 1944, when a US Navy force of fighters and dive bombers attacked a Japanese supply fleet of up to 24 ships at anchor in Coron Bay and around Busuanga Island. Whether the fleet’s location was discovered when an aerial surveillance team noticed some islands moving, or whether Japanese radio transmissions were intercepted is still under debate, but the results are history; with over 20 wrecks laying quietly at the bottom of the bay, becoming artificial reefs and becoming home to thousands of fish.
We did three wreck dives that took us about 1.5 hours west of Coron Town. Becs and I went with Nitrox for our first wreck dive. Akitsushima: a 118m Japanese war ship, lays 35 meters deep. As we descended, a dark shadow suddenly became a sting ray about 1.5 meters in diameter hanging out on the ocean floor just beneath a hole in the ship. Watching it swim away was quite a sight. I was especially excited when I learned that we were going to penetrate the wreck, diving through a hatch, navigating through the engine room, and through the length of the ship’s body. The first entry was a bit tight and required us to get over our nervousness, concentrate and just go for it. We saw the massive guns and some ammunition still sitting next to the station. The ship was heavily bombed and it lays on its side, so much of the dark murky interior has a gentle blue glow as light leaks in through the massive holes.
The next wreck was Okikawa Maru (former Taiei Maru), a navy oil tanker, 160m long sitting upright at 25 meters. As we descended near the rear of the ship, the massive 8 meter tall rudder became visible, and gave us a sense of just how big this boat really was. We entered through a narrow opening in the crankshaft and swam through to enter one of the massive oil drums. At some points, the ship actually felt like an enormous abandoned building that we were floating through weightlessly. We then traversed along the side of the tanker to find some of the most beautiful and colorful nudibranchs I’ve ever seen. We played with some beautiful flat worms, hovering through the water in a magical way.
The final wreck was a small gun boat in about 10m of water. Extremely shallow, but a nice and easy third dive of the day. Our dive operator Sea Dive, packed an extra free beer for everyone on the boat, as the return trip granted us a great closing sunset to a wonderful day.
Another day trip we took from Borongan was to Divinubo, a nearby island that we could actually walk to during low tide. This little journey took us through a post-apocalyptic landscape or a “sunken” moonscape as we began to say. The ground was an interesting combination of volcanic rock and dead reef, equally hard, sharp, and unforgiving. Littered throughout the landscape were tiny sea urchins and hermit crabs that seemed to form bustling communities around a few select rocks. The walk guided up across two tiny sandbank islands, and past a few excited spear fishermen, and children jumping on the boulders.
A few hours later we found an area with large connected pools, deep enough to swim in with a series of caves to swim through and climb up. It took a bit longer than expected to find the pools, so it was amazing to cool down and explore for a while. The water wasn’t exactly a fishes paradise, but the rock formations were stunning as the terrain of our entire trip was like a single rock carved with passageways and deep pools from ocean tides and plenty of time.
We circled the last of the three islands, with huge caves and rich foliage surrounding the interior of the island, in search of the local fishing village. The locals happily greeted us curiously as we stopped for a few San Miguel’s and to negotiate a bangka ride back across the bay.
One of the day trips we ventured on while staying in Borongan involved hiring a fishing boat to take us out on the Suribao River to explore a quiet village and a seemingly untouched waterfall.
A 15-minute tricycle ride brought us to a small pier where we hired an older man to take us in his rickety little boat about an hour up the river. After passing fisherman in shallow, narrow wooden boats, kids swimming in the cool green water, and a few kilometers of endless towering cliffs covered in palm trees, we arrived in a little village where it quickly became clear that westerners don’t often visit. A short walk through the narrow paths and we were being followed by a gaggle of children, wide-eyed and shy but very curious. We stumbled upon a cock fight and watched the battle until the razor on the talon of the winning rooster carved open the loser. (It wasn’t quite as gruesome as I had imagined though, you can’t really see the cut through the feathers.) Finally we hopped back on the boat and said goodbye, waving back to our fan club of local kids. Next stop was a waterfall where we busted out some beers and snacks we brought along, sat in small cool pools of water formed by the rocks and enjoyed ourselves in the sun.
To hire the boat and captain for four hours cost about $12 split among four people. It’s little trips like this that make me think that the Philippines are in some way the last frontier of Southeast Asia. In Vietnam or Thailand for example, an excursion like this would be promoted, the price of the boat inflated, the children in the village might beg and the rural authenticity of the entire experience would be lost in the process.
Nine hours overland from Padre Burgos (3 hours of which were impossibly bumpy), we finally arrived in Borongan, a little visited town on the Pacific coast in Eastern Samar. We were welcomed to Pirate’s Cove Beach and Surf Resort by the owner, Pete, an American surfer who’s been there for over 20 years. Lonely Planet promised us a mosaic covered paradise complete with a waterpark, multiple swimming pools, fish tanks, and outdoor kitchens, and we were not let down. Though the price quoted in LP was a bit misleading and required us to spend our budget for the week almost entirely on accommodation, we were able to save money by sharing the costs of day trips and homemade meals with the only other guests in the place — a couple of French surfers who we got to know quite well during our five-day stay.
Cooking in a real kitchen appealed to me greatly after over five months of only eating in restaurants. Each day we took a trip to the market, where we purchased fish basically straight out of the water and vegetables straight from the ground. I learned a great deal about cooking fish from Yann, who makes his living as a sailor and previously as a fisherman. Our menu varied each night, but the star of the meal was always mahi-mahi. We made kinilaw, a traditional Filipino dish consisting of fresh raw fish and vegetables with chili, ginger and vinegar; grilled mahi-mahi with a spicy mango salsa; a yellow fish curry; and steamed mussels cooked with beer in place of white wine.
The resort was a nice change from our typical low-cost digs and the four massive windows in our room facing the ocean also framed a sunrise that was worth waking up for each morning. We planned on learning to surf while there, but one day of battling the waves over the dead, razor sharp reef cut up my legs enough for the entire week. Our French friends seemed to enjoy surfing Pete’s private wave though — yes, he actually rents the area right where the wave breaks — as I think most experienced surfers would, especially when Pete cranks up the music: he’s got megaphones blasting his music of choice out into the ocean where you can hear the jams while riding the wave. I have to hand it to Pete who has created his surf temple in the middle of nowhere and maintains an area that attracts locals to come play for the day (for a fee of course) and a destination in itself for foreign tourists.
The landscape around Busuanga Island is exquisite but the history of Coron Bay is what has put the island on the map, especially for wreck diving. The historical chapter relevant for divers began September 24, 1944, when a US Navy force of fighters and dive bombers attacked a Japanese supply fleet of up to 24 ships at anchor in Coron Bay and around Busuanga Island. Whether the fleet’s location was discovered when an aerial surveillance team noticed some islands moving, or whether Japanese radio transmissions were intercepted is still under debate, but the results are history; with over 20 wrecks laying quietly at the bottom of the bay, becoming artificial reefs and becoming home to thousands of fish.
