“Whee, Sal, we gotta go and never stop going till we get there.”
“Where are we going, man?”
“I don’t know but we gotta go.”
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Jack Kerouac, ON THE ROAD
For an adventure junkie like me, terra incognita is still one of the most important phrases in my vocabulary. Like a hero in a saga with an insatiable hunger for knowledge and the courage to venture into the unknown, I am in constant search for the last wild place. I planned to explore this obscure place in Bicol for Holy Week 1996.
Our gear and backpacks ready, my buddies and I embarked on this exploratory trip with high hopes. After 8 hours on the road we arrived at the Pili Capitol Building and were warmly received by the cordia; staff of Camarines Sur Governor Luis Villafuerte: multi- media chief Dominador Alarkon and the charismatic Rick Perez, who would be our guide and mentor.
I declined an offer of a warm bed by a friend in Pili in favor of the irresistible charm of rugged camping at Consocep, nestled on the shoulder of Mt. Isarog at 1800m (1976 at the peak).
The jungle watched in cautious silence, reminding us to defile the forest not at all. We, the intruders, pitched our tents on a large rock beside a waterfall. Shower upon shower, the rainforest lived up to its name. The night seemed endless up there.
Morning came. Not often do you wake up with the fresh scent of huge trees and the grand vista of the neighboring peaks accentuated by the early morning light.
The dirt road to Adiangao Cave was rough and dusty but did not hinder us from admiring the landscapes and seascapes. We saw the petite but poetic Aguirangan Island with its clear water and deliciously white beach, so near the shore a seasoned swimmer would have no trouble reaching it.
The next day, we traversed the ardous winding roads of Kalinigan Mountain Range towards Caramoan. As a Holy Week sacrifice, Rick made us climb the 527 steps to the Shrine of Our Lady of Peace atop mount Caglago. No regrets. The view up there was big time. You could clearly see the surrounding islands and off Maqueda Channel, the island of Catanduanes, the land of the howling winds. Up there, you contemplate spiritually or bask in the beauty of the panorama, or both.
When we finally arrived in Caramoan town proper, the mayor served us a fine carnivorous meal that we devoured like wolves. We made a brief stop at Bulang-Bugang Cave whose small opening discharges cool spring water where townsfolk bathe after a stint at the beach.
Finally we reached the object of our trip—the Gota Beach National Park. The group was in frenzy, posing for pictures, swimming, climbing to the view deck, and shouting with delight. I took a deep breath and grabbed my camera, and like a trigger-happy terrorist, I took pictures till I dropped. Pure shores! It is a masterpiece of immaculate white sand and azure green water amplified by the astounding view of limestone islets.
On the wat to Gota Beach, we had noticed the towering limestone hills all around, a rock climber’s haven. With hills of massive llimestone rock, caves abound. One of the many is Umang Cave. The sheer beauty of the cave rewarded our short but strenuous uphill hike traversing cornfield and a creek. Like a deformed cathedral, natural windows, making the use of flashlights unnecessary, illuminated the cave interior. In another chamber, thousands of frenzied bats flying in circles engineered an artwork of their own: a petrified hill made of guano. Wiping the stinging sweat out of my eyes, I examined the hills. It’s like walking on a carpeted floor where your feet would sink with every step. The stench was unbearable and the cries of these nocturnal creatures as deafening as a torture chamber for banshees.
Walking back on the fields, our shadows lengthened as the sun rose on the other side of the earth. Darkness caught up with us as we boarded the boat that in 15 minutes would bring us to Mang Totoy Avila’s beach, accessible only by boat, where we intend to camp. But the moon reflected its subtle radiance on the water and guided our way. Calm waters, silhouetted hills, the smell of the sea—on that short boat trip I fell in love with a place cloaked in darkness and mystery. Is this the Eden I was to find?
I cooked a hearty meal while they set up the tents. Night swimming was to be the next activity but Mang Totoy mentioned a small cave near the beach. Certified thrill-addicts that we are, we grabbed our headlamps and dashed to find it. A cave with fine white sand on the floor and glittering wall and ceilings, the small cave was truly amazing. It would not have been as magical if we had visited it by day. We went back elated and spellbound. This was too much for one day.
When the first sign of morning light enveloped the sky, I jumped out of my tent and got a load of the surroundings I had failed to discern last night. All about this place is impressive, I thought. As I prepared coffee and breakfast a fisherman arrived with his catch that I gladly bought, at unbelievably low price. We decamped with a promise to be back to this hidden beach.
We then sojourned to a place that even some Caramoanons do not know exist—Tayak Lake, just a few minutes away by boat and a few steps on the beach. Its water is so still it reflected the surrounding vertical cliffs.
Next stop was the beatific Maralad Island. We sampled the white sand and agreed its one of the finest we’ve seen. No kidding! Sam virtually became a "dugong" wasting no time swimming. Somewhere in the middle of this small island lies a hidden lagoon discovered accidentally by Rick aboard a chopper.
On
our 2-hour trip to Lahuy Island we explored the coastline along the way,
with its racky coves and rugged seaside cliffs. There are plenty
of hidden beaches and caves that could be explored on a kayak. Lahuy Island
has a long stretch of white sand beach. Unusual rock formations,
layered and fragile-looking littered the area.
The water is spectacularly blue. We wasted no time swimming and snorkeling
to our heart’s content. Due to his maniacal laughter, Gary lost
his false teeth in the water. Good thing we were able to find it.
We came back before the sun set, feeling tired and blissful. It was Good Friday and the town’s church and streets were crowded with people. Sleep came hard knowing that we would be leaving Caramoan in the early morn. Like a secret hiding place, I wanted to keep Caramoan to myself, free from the crowd. Maybe I fear it may suffer the fate of our other beautiful places. Maybe some places are better left untouched.
Some people can wonder without ever reaching their destination. But along the way they discover other things that offer rewards and wonders. Whether it was coincidence, destiny, or just plain reality, we had reached our goal and all the wonders that went along with it—friendly folks, spellbinding caves, mysterious mountaintops, sparkling beaches. A bored adventurer would be hard to find on this side of Bicol. Caramoan is for adventure junkies like you and me.
(written by Noel Galang)