Subterranean Caves by Sabang Beach in Palawan

Wednesday, March 3,2010 Subterranean Caves Tour – (Note: some names have been altered in this blog to protect people’s privacy.) We woke up early and had breakfast by 7:00, then were outside the hotel at 8:30 to wait for our van to take us to Sabang Beach where we were to embark on the Subterranean Caves tour. There were only 6 of us in the van, and it was just right for comfort. There was a gentleman from Canada, whose name was Marcel sitting by the driver, a couple from Manila , a young Filipino couple named Jonathan and Debbie who sat behind the driver. On the second row, a German boy named Gerdrich who had an Italian surname. I took over the third row, and Jeanne, the last row. The trip to Sabang Beach was about 3 hours, but halfway we stopped at a high point in the mountains to take pictures of the beautiful bay below us, as well as to make a pit-stop. There was a souvenir shop where I took advantage of buying souvenirs for my friends in the US. They also sold hot, freshly made “turon na saging” - crisp fried saba banana eggrolls with a sprinkling of muscovado sugar. I haven’t had this for a while, so I indulged myself by eating one piece. It was delicious!

An hour later, we made it to a beach resort to eat lunch first. Here, we witnessed brave Gerdrich eating tamiloc, a worm-like mullosk found in mangrove trees, which was supposed to be the delicacy of the area. We watched him put inside his mouth several foot long lengths of that morsel, and despite our silent “eeow” grimaces, just let him indulge in it and enjoy it. Marcel liked the stir fried kangkong (water spinach). As for me, fresh buko coconut water and young coconut meat was my indulgence. It was a hot day, and we needed hydration, and what better natural nutrients could be had than those found in fresh coconut juice. There was a lady preparing halo-halo nearby so all of us at our table had that shaved ice with sweet beans, jello, candied bananas, yams topped by thick evaporated milk for dessert.

From Sabang Beach, we got into a boat to take us to the Subterranean caves. When we got there, we saw a lot of monkeys playing by the beach, but were told to stay away from them, because they would snatch away belongings, especially if they thought it had food. When we walked into the entrance of the forest path, we were met by a big five-foot brownish-grey monitor lizard, with a long forked blue tongue. I asked the guide if it would bite, noting that it did not seem to have teeth, and when he answered “no”, I ran after the lizard to take several pictures. It moved slowly and did not seem to mind me and the small crowd behind me, just stuck it’s long blue tongue out for everyone to see. My daughter later laughingly joked….. “it does not bite, it just swallows, but you’re too big for him to swallow.” So, sometimes it’s good to be big enough.

We walked inside the jungle path to a beautiful cove of clear turquoise colored waters which led into the subterranean caves. Here is where I appreciated the Palawan tourism department, for it made a head count of all of us, and for our safety, a record of who got in and out of the caves.

There were 10 people in our boat, (six of us in our group was joined by another 4) and we were seated 2 people abreast. The first person in front held the lantern by which we could see the cave formations. Our boat guide also paddled the boat. Only paddled boats were allowed inside (no boats run by motor to keep the water clean), and it was very quiet except for the movement of the paddle on the water, and the occasional tic-tic-tic of fruit bats as they made their way through us in the cave.

We looked like orange aliens because of our reflector colored life vests with the orange hard hats we donned to protect us from occasional stones falling out of the cave stalactites or falling bat-dung which they jokingly called “holy shit” coming from the bats who clung on the cave roof.

There was no order on getting into the boat, and I just so happened to sit with Marcel who adjusted my hard hat outside, before we got into the darkness of the cave. Jeanne and Gerdrich sat behind us. Marcel reached into the water, tasted it, and said it was not as salty because of the fresh water coming from the caves. Not thinking, I also reached down with my finger and tasted the water, agreeing with him. Later though, I found out that bat dung was mixed in with the fresh water, so that was not so kosher, I thought. With all of the weight of 11 people in the boat (including the boat man), the boat sank a few inches, and the water was only about 3-4 inches away from my hand at the edge of the boat.

We entered the cave and explored it for about a mile and a half before we turned back out. On our way out of the caves, I noticed that Marcel took off his hard-hat and then slumped over, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a “clunk”. I got alarmed because he was leaning to the right and about to fall into the water. I was on his left side, so I pulled him back by his arm and asked “Are you alright?” He mumbled, and said he was, then started to talk, and talk, and talk, and talk – just to let me know that he was awake and okay. I was not impressed, because what he was saying made no sense, so when we got out of the caves, gave him a quick medical appraisal. Apparently he was just very tired and jetlagged to sleep. It was however, not a good place to do it. I got an appreciative hug for my attention though.

The subterranean cave was very impressive, and its highest ceiling inside rose to about 65 meters. It makes one realize how awesome God’s world is. Remember that we were paddling on a river underneath a mountain. The river traversed the cave underground for a long stretch, and we were told that it goes on for about 8 kilometers. We only went in 1.5 kilometers. Outside, the mountain range was known as St. Paul, as a British explorer earlier compared it to the dome of St. Paul’s cathedral in London. The whole experience took about 45 minutes.

Inside, stalactite and stalagmite formations fell from the ceiling and rose from the floor. Among the formations I remember were the ones which looked like images of saints and deities in the big cathedral area, the area where there were vegetable looking formations, and the face of Christ on the right side, coming out. We saw bats hanging from the ceiling, and occasionally we could hear them flying through the darkness sending their radar sounds out. There was water dripping on us, or was that “holy shit”? The rough walls were later taken over by a smooth highway where it looked just like we were under a “fly-over” or a bridge and the river went in a straight line for as far as we could see. But this is where we started to turn back.

“Do you want to experience the darkness?” asked our guide. We excitedly said “yes!”, so he asked our torchman to turn the light out. He also stopped rowing, and we were at a standstill. For as many seconds that took, the combination of the darkness and the stillness was moving. It was pitch dark, and silence overtook everyone. When he turned the light on again, he asked, “do you want to experience the darkness again?” and when some members of our group said “yes” he said, “then close your eyes….. it’s the same thing.” He was funny, and would occasionally beat on the water with his paddle to alarm us. When someone in our group would ask nervously, “what’s that?”, he would laughingly let us know not to worry, because there were no crocodiles living in that water.

As our boat silently sailed out of the cave into the light, the mouth of the cave opening looked very dramatic, and when we got out into the sunlight again, it was like we came back into life. It was like coming from death to life, and being humbly reminded of our mortality, our smallness and finiteness in God’s awesome world. For some it may just have been a physical adventure inside the caves, but it had a deep spiritual significance for me.

The ride back to Puerto Princessa was uneventful, for all 6 of us took to sleeping and snoring to the music of Enrique Iglesias which our driver seemed to like. It was tacky listening to it after a while, but when you’re tired and sleepy, who cares? I think the snoring of all six of us, took over the music, and that’s when the driver realized we did not care, so he just turned it on louder for his own entertainment. It was blaring louder when we got into town and finally woke up.

We got back to Puerto Princessa at around 5:30 pm. There was a traffic jam, as there was a parade in town for a week-long community celebration. We watched part of the parade go by before we could proceed, and because some of the streets were closed to traffic, we, who stayed at Puerto Pension were the first ones to be dropped off.

After we freshened up, we got into a tricycle to take us to Badjao Restaurant, which was way out of the regular traffic area. I’m glad that we did not let the tricycle go, because the restaurant was closed to the public that night because of a wedding. Badjao was down near the beach area, and the tricycle seemed not to have enough power to get up the hill to get out of the parking lot, so the driver asked Jeanne to get out and walk up the hill to meet us there. I rode on, and I asked him why he asked Jeanne to go down and walk up the hill, and not me, and he just said politely, “understandable naman po.” Jeanne is about 50 lbs heavier than me.

We returned to town again, and proceeded to Kamarikutan, which was another place recommended by my sister Chona.

Kamarikutan….. was a unique experience in itself. It was a bamboo and nipa hut establishment, that was owned by a lady who called herself Dayang-Dayang. There was a big convention, and people were all over the place, from the gardens to the round dining nipa hut area, to the museum area which displayed ethnic Palawan instruments, and paintings of local artists. People were thinning out when we arrived. Because the eating area was still full, we decided to sit in the living room area. Here, the chairs and tables were made of driftwood, or ethnic bamboo. The problem was, it was quite dark, and there were mosquitoes in the dark corners of the place. So, we eventually moved to the dining area, where they had katols (mosquito deterent smoke coils) underneath the tables to ward off the mosquitoes.

Although connected to the main hall, the dining area was surrounded by a flow of water where white, red and spotted black carp swam. The water started as a fountain by the entrance, and went around to the other side of the round dining area, like a moat. It was quite impressive.

We were probably the last few people there, and Dayang-Dayang approached us, thanking us for patronizing the place. It was then when I noticed that the silverware were placed inside bamboo tubes, and the tubes were decorated with ancient Filipino syllabary. It was actually a tongatong. So the conversation went into the making of these, and the type of bamboo that it was made of. I made tongatongs for my Filipino Folk Arts Theater in Dallas, but the bamboo that was available for me to use was not as sturdy as the Palawan bamboo that they had. I asked if I could buy some tongatongs, and she said if I came back the following day, she might just give me some.

Conversation went into the culture of Palawan, how immigrants from all over the Philippines had moved to Puerto Princessa, the security and peace situation which she said was the best she’s ever seen compared to other urban cities, and the nature conservation which despite the many tourists that come, they are still able to conserve their natural resources. We talked about land and beach property and she told us that foreigners are attracted to them, but that they should be wary of whom they purchase it from. The girl who worked for her, had family property in Narra, Palawan that they wanted to sell. It was beach frontage with coconut trees. It was also not very expensive, so remembering Marcel of our subterranean cave adventure, we thought that this may be something he would be interested in.

When we got back to our hotel, we called Pepito, and did some detective work to see where Marcel stayed, and how we could get in touch with him. We found him, and later was able to leave a message at his hotel for him to have dinner with us the following day, to introduce him to Dayang Dayang himself as well as the lady who owned the land.