Day 5: Boat to Siargao, the Surfing Capitol of the Philippines

Tuesday, Sept. 20, 2016


Roosters began crowing on the ferry, long before the sun came up. I’m not sure if I slept at all, still fighting the jet lag monster. By 4:00 a.m. I gave up trying to sleep and walked around the boat, looking for a place to sit and write.

Beautiful Gladys of Daly City, California on her way home to visit family and friends in Surigao City.

Instead, I met a Filipino-American named Gladys who lives south of San Francisco in Daly City, famous for its large Filipino population, although Chinese have been moving in lately. Gladys was born in Surigao, one of 7 children who moved to California when she was 14 years old. She says her younger siblings adapted easier than she did, and claims to still retain an accent, although her English sounded fine to me. She now lives with her boyfriend because she got tired of her mother’s rules and restrictions. She hasn’t been back to the Philippines since 2012 and wouldn’t have taken the ferry since she can’t swim, but flights are too expensive.

Badjao people, or "Sea Gypsies" are expert divers who beg for coins from the ferry passengers.

As the 3-level ferry approached the dock we saw small outrigger canoes approaching. Gladys asked a German woman what she thought they were. “Fishermen?” the German asked. Gladys laughed, “Yeah, fishing for money.” Sure enough, a couple dozen Badjao people, many with small children and babies in tow, began begging for money. The Filipino passengers, familiar with the game, threw coins far into the water and the Badjao dove in after them. Still impressive, but quite tame compared to the young dare devils I’d seen in the Philippines before who dove off the top of the ferry to retrieve coins. The German woman, who I later found out has been traveling alone for a year and a half, watched for a while, then said, “I think it’s kind of sad.” I too felt a little uncomfortable at first, but in the end, I tossed my coins into the water. I figured at least they’re doing something healthy, and probably earning more than working a minimum wage job. Filipino construction workers only make about 260-350 pesos a day ($6-$8). Eventually, the German came around. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a good thing,” she said.

I’ve been to Surigao before, in fact, last time I walked and walked and walked all around the mundane city for 8 hours, waiting for my next boat. This time I cut to the chase and suggested we go straight to the waterfront hotel lobby. Debrah opted for the buffet breakfast, while I took advantage of the wifi and AC. I was frustrated not being able to leave of Siargao sooner. Why would the only boats from Surigao to Siargao leave at 5 a.m. and 11:30 a.m. since the Cebu-Surigao ferry arrives at 6 a.m.? We couldn’t possibly make the early boat, and we had to wait hours for the next one.

It’s festival time in Surf City, so everything is booked and crowded. Luckily, we stayed with my friend Catherine. She and I met several months ago on the island of Siquijor — supposedly inhabited by witches, so most Filipinos are afraid to go there. Catherine's originally from South Africa, but lived in the UK for many years. An uncle of hers married a Filipina, which is how her family discovered and fell in love with the Philippines 15 years ago. Catherine’s father owns a little beachfront resort on Siquijor called The Bruce and Catherine runs a cool restaurant across the road where I enjoyed fresh tropical fruits with Greek yogurt and homemade granola every morning. Her ranch-style home is next door to The Bruce, facing the clear blue ocean. Because of its reputation for sorcerers, Siquijor still offers unspoiled white sandy beaches, caves and waterfalls.

Siqujor's unspoiled beaches are protected by its reputation as haunted by witches.

Shortly after I met them, Catherine and her half-Filipino 7-year-old son Zak moved to General Luna, Siargao, within biking distance of the famous Cloud Nine surf spot. She invited me to join them, so I did for a week in May. Her rented 3-bedroom house became something of a hostel and local hang out, for the rasta-surfer community that runs a souvenir shop called called “Sabali.” It’s great because Zak surfs, skateboards, eats, bikes, and generally hangs out with this friendly laid-back bunch of Filipino transplants and travelers from Europe, U.S. and China.

My dear South African friend Catherine and two of her three sons, Daniel and Zak, both surfers.

After hanging out for a while, Debrah and I hopped on bikes and rode over to Cloud 9 in time to catch some of the National Surfing Championships. Last time I was there the place was practically deserted, and the raised boardwalk was a bit scary with all the rotting planks. Now the rotten boards were replaced by new ones, the 3-story stand was packed with observers, and dozens of surfers were out in the water, waiting for a wave. Compared to Steamer’s Lane in Santa Cruz, the water was quite flat, but I heard that come November when Siargao hosts the 22nd International Surfing Competition, the waves should be much higher. Legend says that Filipinos never surfed until foreign surfers discovered Cloud 9 and introduced the sport a few decades ago. Now native surfers, even young kids like Zak, are hitting the waves. 

The Boardwalk out to Cloud Nine's spectating tower has been repaired since I was there a few months ago, just in time for the National and International Surfing Championships.

The Tower is a great spot to watch the surfing action at Siargao's famous Cloud 9 beach.

The waves at Cloud 9 were not very impressive, but I hear they get better later in the season.

We pedaled back to Catherine’s at sunset. We were joined by Catherine’s boyfriend Den, whose dreadlocks reach the floor and who gave me a kali fighting stick lesson last time. Together we walked the short distance to town where the carnival was being set up in preparation for the annual fiesta. In addition to a wide variety of food and merchandise vendors, there were also tons of “ukay-ukay” shops selling piles of used clothing. My Filipino friends were surprised that I buy only used clothing back home in California. I had worn my swim suit under my clothes, so when we got to the pier I dove in and swam from the end back towards shore. The warm water at night is so relaxing, I didn’t want to get out. During my two-month stay in Argao, Cebu I swam every evening for an hour, something I’d been missing in California where the ocean is too cold.

UkayUkay vendors were out in full force, hawking used clothing from the U.S.

I got to visit with some of my old friends, like Ching the Chinese yoga instructor and Leticia the French cafe manager. I missed Weng the Filipina rasta girl, but heard she was too hung over from partying the night before. She has a new foreign boyfriend, after giving up on her Danish one who isn’t sure when he’ll return to the Philippines. Siargao is the only place I’ve visited in the Philippines where Filipinos and foreigners mix so comfortably and on an equal basis….much different from the traditional tourist areas where you see old, fat, balding white guys with beautiful young Filipinas, half their age and half their size, in borderline prostitutional relationships. I really enjoy the international atmosphere of Siargao and plan to return as often as I can. Debrah felt the same way.

Group shot from my first trip to Siargao in June 2016, with Weng, Chang, Catherine and Dennis.