Author: David Haldeman

Bohol Island
Tuesday, March 15

The shell sellers were already on the beach as we headed for the airpot. As we passed through security there nearly everyone had shells. The attendants asked why we wanted them. We told them, “Beauty is its own excuse for being.”
After a half hour flight we landed in Cebu and transferred to a bus for the trip to the docks. Cebu City is second to Manila in population and has a majestic provincial capitol building. The dock area was alive with activity. As we boarded the “Sweetheart” ferry for Tagbilaran on Bohol Island venders besieged us offering mangos, crackers, ice cream, sandwiches and cold drinks. Elaborate displays of their wares were set up on bicycle “stores” that they folded up and pedaled off with as the ferry pulled out.
We made settled in on the upper deck where cots covered the entire area except for a narrow walkway. Fresh sheets and a pillow were provided along with a lunch box of chicken. We spent the three and one-half hour trip reading, talking, relaxing, writing and watching dolphins. It was here that I started writing this account of our adventures. Others of our group crowded around to see what I had written.
We were joined here by Vero Palermo of Iloilo, a professional photographer who traveled with us for several days taking shots for postcards and travel articles. Croton hedges lined the road. Abaca is an important crop growing under the coconut trees. The road was filled with children walking from school, many carrying bolos that they had used to trim the school-yard grass. All over the Philippines the barrio schools are built in the same style—a long low building with a porch the full length.
We passed a cockfight arena, deserted today as cockfights are usually held on Sunday. Graceful women carried their loads on their heads; boys herded pigs, led caribous and pulled wagons. Little girls walked arm in arm and waved to us as we passed. We had crossed many wooden bridges, so it was a surprise to see an iron bridge right out of Ohio, with a plaque explaining that it has been erected by the U.S. Army.
Our route was along the Leay River where native women were on their knees washing clothes.Their wash basins looked like oversize fluted Jell-O molds.
As we left the coast we started climbing, passing through Loboc. White starflowers dotted the roadsides and we passed through a reforestation area where 625,000 trees had been planted in 1963. The road narrowed to one lane, twisting around the mountain. Our careful driver honked as we approached the curves.
About an hour out of Loboc we arrived at the “Chocolate Hills” that the rise about 500 feet. above the plateau where rice and coconuts grew. We could see that the top of one had been leveled off and buildings erected. Our driver pointed it out as our destination. The road was narrow, steep and winding.
After supper Lolita was interviewing Stan for her film when a bird with dangling legs flew past them into a small garden. They captured the frightened bird and brough it to the light. Its smooth olive brown back and rufous breast helped them to identify it as a ruddy crake. Stan pointed out that this was not only a new life bird for us, but a new record for the Philippines because du Pont’s “Philippine Birds” does not list it for Bohol. We released the bird and then realized that no one had thought to photograph the crake!

Monday, March 14

The University provided a launch for the pleasant hour and a half trip to Sumilon Island . We passed along the east side of Cebu and Dr. Acala was disturbed that fishermen were poaching near the island sanctuary. He was even more concerned that they might dynamite the area to kill the fish for easy capture and that would also blow up the coral that has taken centuries to form.
We beached on a sand spit and some of the party got into scuba diving gear. By special permission we selected perfect shells from the multitude spread along the beach. Cones, sundials, olives, limpets, cowries, mitres, and harps were abundant. The university provided equipment that included a glass bottom box and inner tubes so even non-snorkelers like me could view the coral beds and brightly colored fish.
There was an old Spanish fort at the crest of the hill and we explored it. The caretaker of the island who lived nearby in a nipa hut had planted hills of corn, a few melon vines, eggplant and other vegetables wherever there was enough soil.

Cebu and Negros Islands
Sunday, March 13

On our flight to Cebu we could see the fish pens as we flew over Laguna de Bay and the volcanoes dotting Lake Taal. I remembered to take a malaria pill and I felt safer because there was an outbreak of cerebral malaria in the St. Lucia area of the penal colony on Palawan that we had visited.
We changed planes in Cebu and arrived in Dumaguete, on the island of Negros Occidental at 9:30. As we came through the gates were surrounded by lovely girls who placed necklaces of ipil ipil seeds round our necks. Attached to the woven chain was an abalone shell–a good luck charm purported to attract money. We ate our bounteous breakfast buffet here in the open dining pavilion of bamboo..
Silliman University is a private university founded in 1904. We were especially interested in the work of Dr. Angel Acala in his marine laboratory. Through his efforts a museum has been established at the university and field work is carried out from the marine laboratory located on the beach near the hotel.

Sumilon Island

Sumilon Island, off the southern tip of Cebu and 14 kilometers from Dumaguete City, is a marine conservation park. Dr. Acala made a knowledgeable host for our trip to the ranch of Dr. Jose S. Garcia, about 30 km from Dumaguete City. Our caravan of jeeps took the rough road north of Siaton in their stride. As we climbed higher there were spectacular views of the sea.
The Garcia ranch is a bird sanctuary. The afternoon bird hike was too hot and long for me so I spent the time in the bamboo home of Dr. Garcia who spread a mat for me and I had a nap. He told me that even though he would prefer to let his ranch of 700 hectares be totally devoted to bird habitat, he is required by the government to plant rice and maintain a number of cattle. As we talked we heard the “wonk-wonk” of the white-breasted swamp hen and a group of mallards flew in and alighted on the pond.
The last mile or so of “road” leading to the sanctuary is only defined by guess and as we started back the jeep ahead of us hit a stone ledge and leaped into the air. It came down with wheels twisted. Our driver—the mechanic for the university—diagnosed it as a broken king pin. We took off to catch the jeeps ahead, as it would be needed to transport the passengers in the disabled jeep. I hung on to the door of the jeep, spending more time in the air than on the seat. Gus described it as “the wild ride of Mr. Toad”
We dined Sunday evening at the North Pole Restaurant. Since this was the first building in Dumaguete City to have air conditioning, it was well named. Our guests included Dr. Garcia and Dr. Acala. The seven course dinner included squash soup, stuffed shrimp, paella, chicken, French fries, potato salad with carrots, flan de coconut and tea. The tables were decorated with floral arrangements in pierced tin containers.

Back to Manila
Saturday, March 12

The next morning that I was able to call my son David and find the Joshua Joseph Haldeman had been born on March 10. He and his mother Karen were doing well.
I shared the news with my roommate, Marie. When I came into the dining room late for breakfast the next morning, our group began singing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” and they congratulated me on my new grandson.
That evening our group was invited to the Bussers’ apartment in the Makati area of Manila. The Philippine artifacts and furniture collected by the Bussers in their five years in Manila were combined for charming effect. Bill had a display of some of his shell collection. The view across the Makati Commercial Center to Manila Bay at sunset was unforgettable.

Friday, March 11

On Friday we visited the Iwahig Penal Colony that is the largest open penal institution in the world. Within the 95,372 acres prisoners live and work like free men in typical Filipino rural housing. We visited the prison PX and purchased handicrafts made by the prisoners. Included were baskets, kamagong articles inlaid with mother of pearl, and pictures made of inlaid wood..
We visited the colony school where children of employees and colonists attend together.We were invited to visit the home of the manager in the area where both employees and prisoners live. Here beautiful varieties of Philippine mahogany had been used for floors, furniture and doors. A vegetable garden grew at the front of the house and in the rear pens held guinea pigs and rabbits. A duck with her ducklings waddled up to a pan of water near the outdoor kitchen.
Back at Puerto Princessa we shopped at the market. The stalls were stocked with vegetables, fruit, rice, fish, pork, clothing, thongs, baskets and hardware. I couldn’t resist a handsome broom of wild grasses, stitched to a bamboo handle. Nadine and I bought long dresses splashed with large flowers that were displayed on hangers along the walk.
We visited a shell dealer where girls brought out trays of perfect shells for our selection. The shell jewelry of heishi, pukka, and mother of pearl cost from 10 to 25 pesos and I bought several pieces. When we came to the basket shops the variety was amazing. I was fascinated with a large hamper—wicker with bamboo bent for the handles. It was about 36 inches high and seemed too large to consider buying. But when Dean saw how much I wanted it he encouraged me to pay the 29 pesos and worry later about getting it home. Thanks to the help of Edgar Buensuceso of the Philippine Airlines I checked it through with my luggage. It now holds my Philippine treasures in my guest bedroom.
All day my thoughts had been in Cincinnati, Ohio, where my newest grandchild was scheduled to be born by Caesarian section last night about 7:30 Palawan time. When we returned to the Rafols Hotel, and I saw a phone of the counter, I asked if I could place a call to the States. Mrs. Rafols smiled and said, “No, the phone is only for Puerto Princessa. There is not even a connection to Manila.” So I had to content myself for news until we returned to Manila on Saturday.

Thursday, March 10

By 5 A.M. we were in jeeps heading across Palawan for Baheli. The road that started out in a grand way gradually deteriorated as we climbed the mountain. As fog condensed on the windshield the driver stopped and the boy riding on the rear steps ran to the front to wipe away the fog and dust from the windshield. At a sudden stop just at dawn near the top of the mountain we found that the jeep had a broken axle! The driver repaired it while we investigated the open air school in a hut nearby and collected passion fruit.
By 8 A.M. we had come down into Baheli on the west side of the mountains. The grass huts comprising the village are along the Ulugan River. But civilization was evident in the stacks of empty soft drink and beer bottles in cases piled eight feet high. We boarded bancas and when the river widened into an estuary we passed a checkpoint and our boatman climbed into the bamboo “office” to have our papers properly stamped. This was to protect our safety in case we didn’t return when expected.
After about an hour we came to the open sea and headed north along the coast. Our banca put in at a white sand beach. The only sign of development of the national park was a sign suspended hanging crookedly between two trees reading “St. Paul’s Subterranean River National Park.”
In the sand under the trees were hand-like prints of monkeys. As I peered into the dense vegetation I realized the problems early plant explorers had in seeking the species we now accept as part of our horticultural heritage.
Two by two we entered the cave in the dugouts. It widened into a huge cavern hung with draperies of stone with small passages leading in all directions. We soon became aware of the bats gliding on silent wings above us emitting high squeaks. The river is also the home of the edible nest of the swifts beloved by Chinese chefs.
On the beach we ate, swam in the lagoon where the river emerged, dried our clothes, caught butterflies and watched the mud skippers and birds.
We were entertained on the two-hour drive down the mountain in the dark by Lil’s amazing repertoire of songs. Back at the village open air store I bought a coke for three pesos and a beautifully woven hat for two pesos—a peculiar sense of value!.

Palawan Island
Wednesday, March 9

Palawan is the most remote of the Philippines, stretching its long sausage shape for 270 miles, almost to Borneo. It has only 150 miles of roads leading from Puerto Princessa, the capital.
We were at the airport before daylight for the flight to Puerto Princessa. This 365 mile flight takes less than two hours but by boat it takes from four to five days.
As we came out of the airport, lines of tricycles waited for us to load for the short trip into town to the Rafols Hotel. The showers had a disturbing way of petering out just as you had confidently lathered up. A sign hanging above the dining room door told us, “In this hall is friendship and fellowship, but you must bring some with you”. And we did!
A half hour drive took us to a trail to the beach where bancas were waiting. The sea was quite rough. Pedro told us that if an outrigger springs a leak it will not sink and it is best to stay seated.. The water will come up to your neck, and if you stand up it will still come to your neck, but you will be safe until help comes.
A half hour ride brought us to Pandan Island where we landed on the white sand beach. The open shells of departed giant clam lay at the base of a coconut tree. Shelling competed with birding. Here I became acquainted with Lolita Lizano who had joined us to produce an ecology film for TV station DP-GT4 in Manila. With her was Emeterio Borromeo who carried a 16 mm Bolex and a Nikon with an assortment of lenses.
We enjoyed snorkeling and swimming in the crystal clear water. Groupers and scorpion fish swam around a rusting wreck. We loaded our shell treasures and headed for a mangrove island were the receding tide revealed a sea cucumber. Bob Fischgrund picked one up and I stroke the shiny black skin.
It was almost dark and the sea was rough as we headed back to Puerta Princessa. I was clinging to the center pole of the boat with both hands and felt as if I were riding a merry-go-round. At times the sea spraying from the prow of the boat was bio-luminescencent . My delight wasn’t diminished by the scientific explanations that it was plankton, jellyfish and comb jellies.
After two and one-half hours at sea we saw the lights of a large ship anchored at Puerto Princessa. I was grateful for the brown hands reaching to pull me out of the banca and up the ladder to dry land.

Return to Luzon Island
Tuesday, March 8

In the Verde Straits we boarded the bancas for the smooth ride back to Batangas City and our luncheon with Governor Leviste. In an effort to persuade the people to use alternate sources of energy for fossil fuel the Energy Center near the capitol was established. The exhibit has a solar water heater, a water wheel, a windmill, a bio-digester producing methane gas for cooking, and a treadmill for irrigation.
Governor Leviste was waiting for us in Cuenca, a village north of the capital, which was celebrating its centennial. Thirty-four mayors of Batangas province villages were also there to greet us in the shadow of Mt. Macalad. This is the historic mountain of World War II where the Japanese were so entrenched in caves that a reputed million dollars worth of bombs did not dislodge them.
We were escorted by the mayors and photographers to the home of Quenca’s mayor, Geronimo Cuevas where our gourmet meal was served on fine china. While our group dined at tables the other guests juggled their plates on their knees.
Back in Manila had dinner that evening at the Sulo Restaurant in Makati Commercial Center with Mrs. Lourdes Echauz, president of the Manila Altrusa Club and her friend, Cleotilde Protomaitir–sister Altrusans.

Monday, March 7

Monday morning we boarded the bancas for a short trip into the next bay. As we came near the shore our boat passed over brain coral larger than bushel baskets, staghorn coral and waving sea fans. We spent a delightful morning beachcombing and walking over the exposed reef at low tide. Sea urchins, starfish, sea cucumbers, and tiny fish were caught in the tidal pools. We found olives, cowries, cones, harps, and sundials.
It took two hours to cover the twenty five kilometers to our next stop. We left the highway and headed up the mountain over little more than a path. Boulders barred the way, prickly trees overhung the road. Ruts were a foot deep. As we came out along a ridge the land fell away on either side for a thousand feet. I have never been on more miserable roads with such spectacular scenery.
There were a few huts and a one-room school that was in session. Shy, bright-eyed children not fully clothed sat at the crude desks. The teacher was a handsome 25 year- old from Manila who has relatives in the U.S. and wants to emigrate.
Back in the village we noticed that the younger children now wore clothing on their lower limbs—probably in deference to our visit. We reached the guest house about dark.

Mindoro Island
Sunday March 6

After one night at the Philippine Village Hotel we embarked for the island of Mindoro. We rode in the sleek white 50 foot launch of the Marble craft Industries for the two hour trip across the Verde Island Passage to Puerta Galera. We were all soon drenched to the skin with the waves coming over the prow of the boat where a pig was tethered. We rounded a headland, passed fishermen’s huts and pulled into a well-weathered dock leading to the fifty steps that we climbed to the Catholic Rest House. It was built by Father Theil who is a Catholic priest who has devoted his life to the mission he established here for the Mangyan tribes who live in the mountains above Puerta Galera.
The room was filled with cots hung with mosquito netting. We were pleased to see a row of cubby holes with flush toilets and glad to find lavatories in our rooms. The pump was dismantled on the ground under our balcony so there was no water. But the view wasspectacular overlooking several bays fringed with palms and with a mountain dominating the western horizon..
We dutifully took our Sunday malaria pills and tucked the mosquito netting under our mattresses as we drifted to sleep with the geckos calling along the balcony.