Tough Run Down the Coast (Apr. 14)

Ah, my beloved Mamburao (and of course, Monette), over the wall, down the back path to the terminal at 8 AM

View of the eateries from the bus terminal

The next day, we were up shortly after 6 AM, trying to beat the heat, and shooting for an early run from the bus terminal in Mamburao to a woodland departure in Abra de Ilog by way of banka down the coast to Puerto Gallera (Baletero). Luck was with us and all our connections went well. Last night, in trying to arrange a boat, we were told by our usual banka provider that we could not get a ride for less than 2500 PHP (more or less $45) which in my world was outta the ballpark. Monette passed and we said we would try our negotiating skills elsewhere. In the past we had managed to get passage for 1800 PHP. It wasn’t a great price by any means, but now it was sounding relatively good. Turns out, Monette had somebody tell her they would do it for 2000 PHP, but we had to somehow get connected. Damn inflation, I guess.

Headed to the beach

Facing west into no man’s land

When we arrived, (in the woods) our ride wasn’t there. Somehow, some way Monette ran across the same gal who lived somewhere down in the woods and wanted to charge us too much last year. But now she and Monette were “friends”. That’s how it works here—if you know who the person is, you are “friends”. Now she was willing to have her husband do the run for 1600 PHP ($29) if we would give her our business every time we needed transportation between Puerto and Abra or vice-a-versa, which might be as often as every week. She remembered us from Oct. We agreed.

Local kids practicing their English on me. In the distance the Negros Ferry

We went down to the beach while her husband got gasoline for the banka. The wind was blowing harder than I ever remembered it blowing when I had to make a run. Nobody else was making the launch anywhere on the coast. The only thing on my mind beside the horribly windy conditions was falling into the water back in Sept. when conditions weren’t ideal and that little blunder cost me $100 worth of damage and I didn’t want to repeat that incident again. When the pilot arrived he and his one crew member stashed everything we had in a water proof bag, then buried it beneath a water proof tarp. Perfect, except once again, I kept my cell phone in my pocket for photos. I wanted to document the trip. I told myself, “just don’t fall overboard this time”. I had no idea the problem this time was not going to be about falling overboard, but instead getting soaked by exploding spray the further we got down the coast.

Pushing off from shore, departing for Puerto Galera

It didn’t take but a quarter of mile for me to start regretting leaving my phone outta of the plastic bag. The sun was beating down hard on my head and rogue waves kept blasting our front side. It wasn’t fun nor good. I thought my hat was protecting my head. I forgot the sun reflected full blast off the water and I wasn’t wearing my sun glasses. One and a half hours of riotous water and intense sunlight soaked my front side and baked my poor face to a raw crisp. I look like I am 80 years old, all to save $15 and five hours of waiting. I was so relieved that my phone managed to remain functional by the time we came limping into Baletero.

Last photo taken before beginning to hit the big troughs, a back breaking 1 1/2 hours of semi hell