A Brief Story From My Last Visit to the Philippines

Mid typhoon, during its strongest gusts and torrential rain, I heard a loud CRACK! I ducked down and covered my head to protect myself from whipping ropes, pieces of bamboo, or other debris coming off our banka (a banka is a Filipino style boat much like an outrigger, but with bamboo supports on each side of the boat, constructed mainly of wood and long bamboo poles).  I looked up to see that the storm had just ripped off half of the nylon tarp that covered the banka, of which was then tilting sideways in the water, being pulled by the broken tarp acting like a rogue sail. I crawled upwind on deck to avoid getting hit by debris while the horizontal rain pelted me in the face; I could barely see. I reached for my dive mask to aid visibility and watched as our captain Reynaldo ordered the crew to cut the rest of the tarp free using large kitchen knives, to minimize danger of flying debris and a capsizing boat. Not only did they manage to quickly slice free the plastic rope used to support the nylon tarp, but were able to haphazardly fix the heavy tarp to the boat, preventing it from floating away. I remember having flashbacks to the adventure documentary “180 Degrees South” when their sailboat traveling towards Southern Chile was trapped in a storm and its mast collapses in open seas. Refocusing on the present, I sat low and watched the crew cut down the second smaller tarp while they struggled to turn our craft upwind, and drop anchor. Our only option was to wait-out the tropical storm, left exposed, and hoping that the banka would avoid capsizing.  

Co-Captain John Paul and Me

I thought to myself that all is OK so long as my mother and her sister remain below-deck, ‘safe’, protected from the gnarr happening above, but suddenly I saw my mother and aunt Susan climbing out into the storm! I yelled at them “WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET BACK UNDER!” They had not put on PFDs and looked clueless. I thought my mother had been suffering from claustrophobia, climbing out from below deck to get fresh air, but it turns out the captain ordered everybody on deck because in the event of capsizing, anybody below deck would be trapped in the hull. I shifted thought and yelled to them “WELL DON’T SIT THERE, COME TO ME!” bringing them to a more exposed, but upwind side of the banka, safe from flying debris. I asked our dive master for PFD’s as another crewmember was fetching them from below for everybody to use.

Huddled together on the bow like sitting ducks, anchored facing upwind, we were riding out the most intense tropical storm that I had ever experienced. Adventure is what I asked for when I landed in Coron (I literally told our local guide ‘I want to do something adventurous’) and it’s definitely what I got.

Now, I wish I could say that I was taken by surprise when all this started happening., but some clues should have forewarned us of such an event. It is currently the rainy season in the Philippines and these storms aren’t uncommon, in fact, about a year ago typhoon Yolanda ripped through this same island chain killing 20+ residents. The day before the storm, the Philippine Coastguard had paused commercial trips from happening due to rough conditions and limited visibility. The morning we set out, the visibility was slightly improved compared to the day before, but was obviously changing for the worse right after the coast guard approved our excursion. After our first dive of a sunken Japanese submarine hunter/gun boat is when things got spicy! The day after it all happened is when I realized how serious the typhoon really was; Two ferries had capsized during that same storm in the Palawan island region that we were diving and flooding had occurred in the majority of the Philippine islands.

When the winds decreased, we finished our last two dives in areas more protected and closer the town of Coron where we were staying. It was an enjoyable day and one to definitely remember. I hope to return and dive the larger historic wrecks that were originally planned and explore more of what this beautiful limestone island chain has to offer. But perhaps some day I can do more than just be a tourist and pursue my personal desires in the Philippines. Not only do Filipinos get the short-end-of-the-stick economically speaking (compared to the developed world), but they also lay victim to an aggressively changing climate, coupled with a mountain of environmental, health, political, and educational challenges to overcome. These challenges may seem like a reoccurring theme, reminding us of other island nations and vulnerable populations around the world. However it’s in every individual Filipino’s smile and kind heart that give me optimism about the future of the Philippines. 

All photos courtesy of Trisha Hall

Tangat Gun Boat's deck windows (submarine hunter)

After the canopy was ripped off

Sitting out the storm!

Trisha following our captain through limestone walls in 38 degree Celsius water.  Barracuda Lake, Coron

 

Saying hi to the sister in Barracuda Lake

Trisha's video pre-storm

Crossing the bridge to our family's jungle get-away in Cantabaco

Our delapidating yet beautiful huts in an area threatened by mines and rapid development

Farm critters

2 of the 6 local climbers Enie and Christina show us the routes in the Philippine's most developed crag, Cantabaco

Jagged limestone cliffs border this section of Coron Island

My beautiful mom

Dive crew, after safely making it back to town thanks to captain Reynaldo

Round 2 to La Patagonia

Got off to a rough start. The flight to San Francisco was fine, Alaska even checked my two bags for free because I was flying international with delta later on. However, the flight to San Francisco to Atlanta wasn't so nice. We ended up sitting at the gate for hours trying to get engineering paper work through, before the plane could take off. After arriving in Atlanta late, and late at night, I missed my flight to Santiago and was forced to deal with their mostly incompetent staff. The first 4 Delta personnel I tried to receive help from failed to help me at all. Nobody was able to find any flights I could take to avoid missing my layover in Santiago to Punta Arenas and gave me no option besides wait 24hrs for the next fight. They also told me they aren't able to provide a hotel room for the night (and I didn't know where my checked baggage was) because the city was full. After multiple failed attempts, i finally finagled a 25 dollar food voucher and 100 dollar flight voucher from them; none of which I could use because the airport food vendors were all closed and I was headed to SA. So I was still screwed. I ended up walking to Concourse F where some delta staff mocked the questions I was asking, giving me little advice. I then walked to the check in counter at the International Terminal's lobby and luckily met one of the only decent Delta employees yet. His name was Michael and he was very patient and helping me solve my problem. Eventually Michael helped me find another flight that landed in Santiago before my connecting flight to PA (via Miami and LAN airlines). He then confirmed that my bags were safe and would make it to my final destination. Also he confirmed that there were no hotels for me, but gave me advice that delta would reimburse anything that I spent for the night. So I said thanks and goodbye to Michael,  and after getting a bus to the domestic terminal and another county, I was dropped next to 10 vans all going to different hotels (which were overbooked). Luckily this one sketchy buy kind guy told me to get into his van, and that he had room for the night. After a series of illegal U-turns, dropping someone off a a bar, gas station stops, etc, we finally reach an Econo Lodge hotel where I got a room. The hotel lobby guy grudgidly gave me and another a ride to get food (at 2am) at this place called the Waffle House in the burbs of Atlanta. Upon walking up to the waffle house, the windows were covered with condensation so you couldn't see in but it turned out the food wasn't half bad. 

And now I sit waiting for my flights that will eventually fly me over thousands of amazing miles (of which I would like to explore some day) to Punta Arenas, where I hope to find a bus that will take me up to Puerto Natales, and then to Cerro Castillo by the 1st! 

Yvonne Chinard said something like "it's only an adventure when things go wrong" in the doc 180 degrees south. Wooo! What an entertaining adventure it has been so far! ...but I'm ready to get out of this humid city and back to La Patagonia!

La Patagonia Hitch and Wrap-up

Headed north along the Ruta Cuarenta through the Patagonian Step

The end of the 2012/2013 Patagonian backpacking season was approaching and though the flow of tourists coming in hadn't slowed down, the leaves were changing color, temperatures dropping, and of course, the Chilean tourism industry was fading back into hibernation. Many friends who had come to work in Patagonia for the season were migrating north towards their Santiago origins; few remained and even fewer were planning on staying for the cold and quiet winter.

Having worked at probably one of the most notorious and famed Patagonian hostels located in one of Chile's most southern towns, I've had the opportunity to experience a traveler's dream, the Patagonian buzz, an adventurer's playground, the aftermath of Spanish colonialism (and from that Chilean culture), dirt-bag romance, and new ideas.

It's been a dynamic season; I've hiked and climbed in beautiful wilderness shaped by dramatic stints of ice, water, and wind. I've met influential people and professionals in their own kind. I've leaned more of the Spanish language than I had known coming in. I've worked alongside a variety of characters who will forever be my friends. I've drank more nights than not, many of which are hard to remember. I've explored barren lands once inhabited by people who lived free and sustainably. And even though I wasn't the first to explore these amazing places (even the first German settlers cannot have that claim), I feel even closer to the earth than before, and realize more how much we have to loose if it is not looked after.

One day I was sitting at a table grinding peanuts into peanut butter. Two Aussies walked in and had asked to post a message on our hostel's bulletin board. I asked what the message was for, and after explaining to me that they had two extra spots in their Subaru heading North, I told them not to post that message because my sister and I were going to fill those spots.

And so it began. I said goodbye to the hostel family and the communal securities that I became accustomed to and started driving North in a dodgy Subaru occupied by 1 Aussie, 1 German, my sister and me. We headed north on the infamous Ruta 40, along the east side of the Patagonian steppe in Argentina. We're lucky to have still experienced the remaining dirt sections of the "cuarenta", at times being the only car for hours (Argentina is currently working to pave all sections of Ruta 40 making Southern Patagonia more accessible by large bus and truck).

We made a pit stop at "Cueva de las Manos", one of my favorite places in Patagonia. Imagine perfectly intact hand paintings ranging from 1300 to 9300 years old, located in a breath taking, remote, and hidden canyon. It amazes me that various indigenous groups had inhabited this canyon for over 8000 years and had changed nothing of its beauty, leaving only a handful of eloquent paintings behind (no pun intended). Then I thought of a city like Los Angeles where modern day humans have raped and overturned every square inch of its soil not even 200 years after its first civilized inhabitants had arrived.

Not long after Cueva de Las Manos we arrived to the small pueblo town of Perito Moreno and not long after that we were pushing our broken down Subaru back to Perito Moreno. It was here that my sister and I were standing on a street corner, trying to figure out our next move when a camper-van pulled up and parked right in front of us. Out walked a couple from Portland traveling through Patagonia with their 4 year old son who asked if we needed a hitch north towards Bariloche. After saying goodbye to the Aussie and German, we found ourselves continuing north, sitting in a campervan and facing a sleepy but curious 4 year old boy. After a couple days of Patagonian Portlandia, we were dropped off in the 'hippie' pueblo called El Bolson, where my sister and I ended up taking a 4 day trip into the mountains. I could write a short novel about our experience with Julio the refugiero and maybe I will some day.

After the mountain retreat, we hiked back down into civilization and started hitching just outside the town where a "camionero" (or trucker) named Richard picked us up. I could also write a book about hitching in this truck and our experience sleeping in Richard's cab for two nights, learning about his lonely lifestyle, and eating nothing for 3 days, but drinking mate and smoking cigarettes. About 10 days and over 2,600 kilometers later we were dropped off at San Fernando, just south of Santiago, Chile. From there we hitched a bus to Pichilemu (South America's best surf break), where my sister and I re-entered the conventional backpacking trail and I continued to experience central Chile before my return to the US.

The "Scubaru" at her finest along the shores of Lago Argentina just outside of Perito Moreno

Keeda shifting things around during a stretch break

Why did we have a fire on the windiest night that I've ever experienced in Patagonia? ohhh, to cook the potatoes

The old tent held up OK during the wind storm... had to hold the poles up for hours half asleep, but we made it

Buenos Dias @ Cueva de las Manos

Amazing pictographs at Cueva de Las Manos. The black inked prints are thousands of years older than the red

The best preserved paintings were hidden from direct sunlight

Each color was used in a different millennium, but the methods remained the same

One last picture, before we went our separate ways!

We found a narrow valley to set up camp and enjoy a fire under the HUGE Patagonian sky

Our view for a couple days... what a funny little kid

Julio the refugiero sharing his home with us

Hike in the mountains looking down on El Bolson from Cerro Lindo

Passing time

Lago Tres Colores from Cero Lindo

Summit of Cerro Lindo looking west towards the Cordillera Chilena (the Andes)

Along the hitch, crossing into Chile from near Bariloche

View of Richard's the spaceship from the bed

Matias and his classy apartment in Valparaiso

View of the Valparaiso flats from near Calle Ecuador

The Billy

Reunion with Casey at his house in Coquimbo, making some pizza!

Sunset at Pichilemu

The Billy

Camping spot north of Valparaiso and the gringo group

The Lizzie Eye

Last night with friends in Chile 'Fall' 2013

Puerto Natales, Chile

After completing daily hostel chores, repairing our Basecamp movie projector, grinding fresh "mantequilla de mani" (peanut butter), and taking to world class climbers,  I´ve found a secretive little closet to hide in and reflect on the past couple weeks that I've spent in Puerto Natales, Chile (a town located in one of the most southern-most latitudes of the Earth). 

Preparing some freshly squeezed peanut butter for breakfast!

We arrived to this quaint little port town and our indefinite home/hostel on my sister's birthday (Dec. 5th), and since have transitioned comfortably into the Erratic Rock lifestyle. Bill, the hostel's owner greeted us with open arms and couldn't have given his interns a more laid back orientation. Erratic Rock is a hostel/basecamp/climber & volunteer boarding house/information center/guiding and rental service all in one. It is Puerto Natales' most reputable hostel and because of its convenient location, is the only place where Gringo tourists can come to collect accurate information about trekking in Chile's Torres del Paine National Park. In addition to his amazing customer service, Bill started a recognized recycling program in town and receives grants from 1% for the Planet and support from Mountain Safety Research for recycling fuel canisters. His hostel is well known and many others use Erratic Rock as a sustainable example for their own hostels to follow. In return for our help, Erratic Rock has supported my sister and I in trekking the Q-Circuit of Torres del Paine and continues to provide everything that the hostel has to offer including food, family, Spanish practice, and integration into the adventure loving community that is Erratic Rock.

ER crew on the once-every-2-month recycle container... trying to salvage some waste

After a few days of learning-the-ropes and meeting key people, Trisha and I headed off to Torres del Paine, along with a friend that we'd met at ER named Michael (who's from the french side of Switzerland). The bus ride to the park introduced us to varying Patagonian landscapes and its infamously strong winds (the day before, two buses carrying park going tourists tipped on their sides). We passed by caves where the ancient Milodon used to roam, watched huge condors surfing thermals, and saw hundreds of Guanacos (llama-type animal) foraging in the hills. After paying a park entry fee of about 36 USD, we continued busing through breathtaking landscapes on the park's gravel roads, through thousands of burned acres (last year a tourists destroyed a large section of the park when breaking the park rules and starting a fire off trail), and to our final bus stop called Administracion. From there the three of us began our 6 night, 7 day Q-Circuit; a demanding 100 mile backpacking trip around the Torres Del Paine land mass. Over the next 7 days, we hiked the "tail", the crowded "W", the park's less-populated backside, and finished with an incredible pass overlooking one of Patagonia's most impressive glaciers. We endured 100+ km/hr winds, freezing rain, under-maintained, muddy, and steep trail, and scores of international tourists who knew little to nothing about backpacking. Trisha suffered more blisters than she had toes, but we were rewarded with incredible views of hanging glaciers, Patagonian forests, endless snow-capped peaks, wildlife, and a backpacking experience that can not be found anywhere else. Even though the three of us hiked monster miles, we made the best of every moment and even befriended many of the local "trabajadores" who maintain the parks refugios/campgrounds and who would eventually came to visit us at Erratic Rock during their time off. If anything, it was great to be back on the trail again and breath fresh alpine air.

But we were also eager to begin work at Erratic Rock, and as if our trek were just a dream, we found ourselves back in Puerto Natales with dirty clothes and tired bodies. Since our return, we've said farewell to our friend Michael (who I wish to climb with in Switzerland some day), and have grown accustomed to the hello-goodbey interactions that are the result of hostel life. My bedroom (called the Climber's Cave) is a pit-stop for like minded climbers and volunteers who all have a wanderlust for Patagonian adventure. Among other things we've taken on slack-lining, a new hobby that becomes addicting when the weather cooperates. Our co-worker Ruth (from Holland, and who just bought the slack-line) has been great company and has helped us tremendously in learning about how this hostel functions. I've also been knocking out old projects needing much attention including helping the town recycle a container full of cardboard, plastic, glass, and tins. The days are long (it doesn't get dark until about 11 pm) which makes for a lot of free time to study Spanish and read books. The nights give opportunity to meet people and befriend the local population population (including incredible guides who are eager to share information about the area and are patient enough to comprehend my broken Spanish).

Overall, Puerto Natales feels like a great place to spend an extended amount of time, and I am grateful for the opportunity to be here. As I'm writing this, the Earth is entering its 21st day of December, year 2012 but hopefully only good things will come of this special time, and I will be able to return to the mountains very soon!

1st day of trek in Torres del Paine National Park, Chile

The team posing in front of Glacier Grey... magnificent

Clouds opened up 5 minutes before we got pissed on in the French Valley

Drying our gear after being pissed on with Torres in the background 

Sur, Centro, and Norte Torres in some mystic fog

Mate 

The amazing Glacier Grey