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Coron Expedition - 12 Days Expedition from May 19 to 30, 2000

Day 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

DAY 5: MAY 23, 2000 Tuesday

NAME: John Davenport

Day 5 provided a myriad of experiences. We started the day with a morning paddle through the lagoons south of our camp. Full use was made of the soft morning light on the majestic limestone cliffs sprinkled, as they were, with a plethora of trees and vegetation that clung to the rock face with a tenacity bourne out of survival in a world where soil is a luxury. Presumably what soil there is results from bird, bat and animal droppings catching in the crevices over the millennia. We search for cover that are big enough to enter with the canoes. This search is unsuccessful but joy of paddling the silent lagoon wonderlands dappled with fresh morning sunlight makes this an irrelevance. The shoreline is mostly an unforgiving sheer cliff face but occasionally there is a table-sized rock or pocket-size beach, usually populated with a fisherman’s hut or platform, defiant outposts of humanity front-lining a rather lame attempt to conquer this forbidding rock citadel of nature. We swim in a shaded lagoon invisible from the waters around the island.


		What constitutes sustainable tourism? Sue: "Sustainable tourism necessitates long-term planning and a breadth of investigations, and adaptability." John: "Tourism that does not exhaust resources, usually natural, at a rate greater than they can be renewed and can therefore be perpetuated indefinitely."

The water is deep blue and varies between shallow reefs and plunging fathoms, chilling thermodines add to the mystery of the place. Eventually we clamber into the kayaks and head back to camp for lunch. The afternoon sees the arrival of the floating huts out of the horizon like some kind of Monty Python ceravorming(?) sketch. A brief siesta to dry these out is proceeded by a paddle down to a scar on the limestone buttress that forms the path to Cayangan Lake. The path to a ridge delivers beautiful views across the inlet. The subsequent descent to the lake brings with it the feeling of returning to an earlier world where humans are by no means the major players. The mosquito hell of the shoreline makes for an undignified scramble to enter the water and begin a snorkeling feat. The incredible cliffs surround the serene waters dispelling any hope that with this route of the island’s interior could be penetrated – we are merely in the cloisters of this cathedral of mother nature. Below the surface the cliffs construe in a mesmerizing orgy of contorted limestone formations. Only small needlefish, catfish, crayfish and other tiddles represent the visible fishlife but somehow there is a feeling of primordial menace, reminiscent of Loch Ness, as we bob around insignificantly above the seemingly infinite deep.

The day is rounded off by being invited to drinks aboard the small cruise boat, Lagoon Explorer. We paddle to the boat, which is anchored nearly a mile away, in a glorious bathing of starlight, fireflies and phosphourescent plankton. The guests’ civilized dinner is interrupted by arrival – particularly as Helen misjudges her self-extraction from the kayak and makes a fabulous splash of an entrance. Patrick, our host, plies us with plenty of drink and we spend an enjoyable evening discussing our various travels and the wonders of Palawan against a back-drop of a guitar-playing captain with Elvis aspirations.

The day can be mentally summarized for posterity by images of primordial Lake Cayangan and a background soundtrack of Bob Marley provided by the Captain’s guitar and the fittingly hounding voice of an attractive British Airways Holidays rep called Emma cajoled into singing by a mixture of peer-pressure and tequila.

What surprises you most about your camping experience?

John: “The amount of sting in the trail provided by paradise. Jellyfish, mosquitoes and stifling heat of being in the tents. Floating cottages help immensely with the latter two problems.”

Sue: “The comfort of the new mattress.”

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