Navigating the Catubig River © 2004

MY one day trip along the Catubig River was a journey back in time. A look at the few remaining rustic structures still standing in the area will remind visitors that once in this place a fortuity of great significance took place and etched a page in history. The riverboat trip was an exotic exposure and the thrill that went with it was simply exhilarating.

The Catubig River is Northern Samar’s longest river. It is at least 30 kilometers long and passes through two river towns. The river has two mouths - one in Pangpang and one in the Laoang Island inlet. The river ends right after the town of Las Navas, a remote municipality surrounded by low rugged hills and lush forests.

For local residents, the river serves as a cord of life. It is the only access to all their needs – water to catch fish, water to irrigate their farmlands, water for their animals, water to wash their clothes, water to bath in, and water to transport their basic needs.

A local historian whom I met during my three-day stay in the province told me that the river got its name from the town of Catubig, an old Spanish pueblo and cabezeria. Although I was told that the original location of the town was in Palapag which was on the eastern side of the island facing the Pacific Ocean, the town served as the residence of the Cabo de Espiritu Santo during the Spanish times. The region was then called Ibabao which is today Northern Samar.

I was told that the Sumoroy Rebellion (1649-1650) led by the Waray hero Juan Ponce Sumuroy made Palapag a famous byword in Philippine history. One of the trusted co-conspirators of Sumuroy, David Dula y Goiti, sustained the Filipino quest for motherland with greater vigor. He was however wounded in a battle, was captured and later was executed in Palapag by the Spaniards together with his seven key lieutenants. They were accused of masterminding several attacks on Spanish detachments. Up to this day, Samar is noted for being a hotbed for insurgents.

During the 18th Century, Ibabao or Northern Samar became the stopover of the Acapulco galleon trade when its abaca, bees wax and other agricultural produce were in demand in Spain, Mexico and Peru. Palapag was the Pacific port of call while the town of Capul, in the San Bernardino Strait was the provisioning call of the galleons which plied between Manila and Mexico once a year. Capul, formerly known as Abak (after the ancient ruler of Java who brought the first settlers to Ibabao), probably got its name from Acapulco. To this day, abaca is still one of the major products found in the province. Today, abaca growers use the Catubig River to ship their raw products to buyers and distributors.

As I traveled along the river, I could see the rich alluvial soil of the river banks. The constant erosion of the soil contributes to the water’s brown murkiness. The soil in this area is predominantly silt and clay loam with a fine texture and a high water retention capacity. This soil type, I was told, is fertile and suitable for lowland rice farming.

Northern Samar is bounded on the north by the San Bernardino Strait, on the east by the Pacific Ocean, on the west by the Samar Sea, and on the south by Western Samar. I was told that the total land area of Norhtern Samar is 3,498 sq. km.

Northern Samar is composed largely of low and extremely rugged hills and small lowland areas. It also has small and discontinuous areas along the coasts and its rivers are usually accompanied by alluvial plains and valleys. The province is endowed with relatively rich and fertile soil that most crops can grow on it. It is rustic and picturesque.

As we cruised along the river, I could not help but imagined how the Nortehanons of Northern Samar figured prominently during the Spanish and American occupation of the Philippines. It was said that the river was a vital strategic access of the Pulahanes who protractedly fought a guerilla war even after the capture of General Lucban in Catubig in 1902 by the American forces.

I have read a lot of interesting stories about Northern Samar when I was still a student. During the Philippine-American War (1899-1913), I learned that the town of Catubig was the scene of a battle between the Samarnons and the Americans. It was later known as the Siege of Catubig. The century-old Saint Joseph the Worker church near the bank of the river is a surviving witness to the siege which took place on April 15, 1901. It was said that the battle lasted for four days.

History footnotes cited the Siege of Catubig as a long and bloody engagement fought during this period of the Philippine-American War, in which Filipino guerrillas launched a surprise attack against a detachment of U.S. infantry, and then forced them to abandon the town after a four-day siege. The siege began on April 15, 1900 and lasted on April 19 before the survivors were rescued. The attack was very similar to the infamous Balangiga Massacre farther south of Catubig a year later.

A few days before the battle, the U.S. 43d Infantry Regiment was sent to Catubig to stop guerrillas from getting supplies from suspected sympathizers. This was a time when conventional war in the Philippines had been abandoned and had now entered the new phase of guerilla warfare. The 43rd were relatively raw recruits and had little experience in combat. In fact, they had only been in the islands for four months before they were ordered to Catubig. I could just imagine how life was like back then when this place was untamed. It was probably America’s first Vietnam War.

April 15 seemed like a typical Sunday morning for the regiment, but suddenly rushing down from the surrounding hills and town itself came hundreds of Filipino guerillas armed with bolos (machetes), pistols, spears, and German Mauser rifles. Strange as it seems, the guerillas let loose a tremendous volley of “cannon” and rifle fire that drove the entire regiment into their barracks. For two days, the regiment withstood a withering fire with a loss of only two men, before their barracks were lit ablaze. Unable to extinguish the fire, the Americans were forced to flee the burning building and face the attackers.

When they reached the open, the whole regiment lost all coordination, and broke up into two groups, one running to the boats moored on the river bank, and another to the rear of the barracks. All 15 men running for the boats were killed, either cut down in the streets, or shot in the boats. The others made makeshift trenches, dug with their bayonets, and for another two days kept the guerillas in check until a rescue party in the steamer Lao Aug came to their aid. The relief force managed to save the survivors under a hail of Mauser bullets, making it back to their base before the guerillas could regroup and attack again.

Historical accounts of the siege documented that of the 31 American soldiers of the 43rd, 21 were killed and 8 were wounded. The rebel losses were unknown. American accounts claim as high as 150. The survivors of Company C, who were nearly annihilated during the Balangiga Massacre, also claimed extremely high losses on the Filipino side.

The town of Catubig can also be reached by land but one has to travel a long and arduous journey on paved and un-paved roads. However, some locals say that the best way to reach the river towns is by riverboat ride on the Catubig River. Catubig is a 4th class municipality. According to a 2000 census, it has a population of 26,917 in 5,015 households.

The next town further upriver is Las Navas, a 4th class municipality that has a population of 29,346 in 5,641 households. Legend says that Las Navas got its name from a Spanish officer named Delas Navas who explored the northern part of Samar during the Spanish times. The residents say the officer sailed with his men upstream the Catubig River and reached a place called Binongtu-an. The place was later changed to Las Navas to serve as a reminder to the people that a prominent Spanish officer stayed there. The people accepted the proposed name and changed the name Binongtu – an to Las Navas.

After the name Las Navas was acceted by the natives, a church was constructed near the bank of the Catubig River. Today the wide lowland between the rugged hills and the river is now known as the Catubig Valley. The river is said to be big enough for small tonnage barges or motored vessels to easily sail to the source of the river.

I reached Las Navas before lunch. The pump boat operator told me that they charge riders P20.00 per person to ply from Las Navas to Catubig and vice versa. The boats dock at Lo-ok in Catubig and Lo-ok, too in Las Navas. It leaves Las Navas at 5:00 a.m. and was always expected to arrive 5:30 a.m. in Catubig.

As our riverboat docked on the concreted river bank, the boatman told me that there are more brooks and creeks that can be found further inland if I was to take a hike. The offer was very inviting but I did not take the risk because of my unfamiliarity with the place and its people. I also had limited time to stay in the area. There was a saying that to travel across the Catubig at night would be dangerous. The Catubig is the most famous river in the area. It is commonly called the Main River as compared to the Hinaga and Hagbay rivers in Western and Eastern Samar.

Las Navas is primarily an agricultural municipality with rice production as a major activity. However, of the total land area, 4,733 hectares are planted with rice, and 3,275.2 hectares for coconut. The remaining areas are planted with abaca with a total of 1, 332.5 hectares, root crops has a total of 540 hectares. Livestocks and poultry are considered as major economic activities for small farmers and their families.

The boatman told me that other major resources such as timber products, tikog and rattan are also abundant in Las Navas, such offering a bright prospect for agricultural development and for subsequent industrialization thru small and medium scale industries.

Several kilometers past Las Navas in the upper most part of the stream, the Pinipisakan falls can be found. I did not have the chance to reach the area as dark rain clouds threatened our journey upstream. Reaching Las Navas town was good enough for me.

I discovered that the people of the river towns are friendly and accommodating. They welcomed strangers with open arms. The children of Las Navas, though were shy, managed to give away a smile when they saw us. I would say that the famous Samar hospitality is something that must be experienced by those who wish to travel to the island’s hinterlands.

Soon it was time for me to go back to Catubig town to catch the last ride back to Catarman. It was a rewind of the trip. But it also seemed to me like an emersion of life itself.

I was enthralled and fascinated by the trip. I was also glad that I was on my way back from what looked like an untamed frontier. It was like coming back from a journey back in time when Springfield rifles clashed with bolos.

My thoughts hover as I looked at the people doing about their chores by the banks of the river. For me, it seemed that despite the vicissitudes of the last two centuries, the river’s poignant tranquility seemed to have arrested the development of the river towns and the people who depend on it.

The subjective photographs I have taken during the Catubig River journey will always remind me of this beautiful but mysterious place. I hope that by sharing the images with the readers, it would serve as visual inspiration to those who crave for the surreal outdoor experience.

Signs of hope in Guimaras © 2006

ONE month after the M/V Solar I sank in the waters off the island of Guimaras, I received a text message from a colleague asking me if I was available for an assignment in the Visayas. When I said, “yes,” I was advised to take a flight to Iloilo City and proceed to Guimaras for a five-day coverage of the bunker oil spill clean up. I received the text message on a Sunday and the request was for me to take the early Monday flight. Since it was a short notice, I was not able to leave Monday – I left early Tuesday morning.

I was a replacement storyteller for another writer who had to return to Manila on urgent matters. And because of the exciting nature of the assignment, I simply could not say no to the offer. I immediately asked my managing editor if I can take three days off from my regular work schedule so I could travel to Guimaras. It was my only chance to once again get out of the airconditioned comfort of the office and get the smell and sweat of a challenging coverage.

The clean-up was organized by Petron and several government agencies. Petron is the petrochemical company whose bunker oil was loaded in the ill-fated tanker that sank near the island.
I have read many reports on the sea accident, and from what I have learned, the damage to the environment and to the lives of the people on the island – particularly the fishermen - was close to catastrophic.

Although I brought my camera with me, my primary purpose in going to Guimaras is to write stories and not take photos. My role in the documentation was limited to interviewing key personalities involved in the clean-up – nothing less, nothing more.
When I landed at the port of Jordan, Guimaras from Iloilo City on Tuesday morning, I was surprised to see a bustling port. I had imagined the place to be a ghost town after what had happened there, but what I saw was the other way around. Hundreds of people – boatmen, porters, passengers, as well as foreign tourists – were busy going about their usual business.
I proceeded to the Jordan tourist information center and met Sarah Jean Diaz, a tourism information assistant. She told me that the oil spill was indeed tragic for the Guimaranons. However, she cut short of thanking God that the environmental accident happened during the lean season, when foreign and local visitor arrivals are at a low. She expressed hope that the clean-up would soon end so everything would go back to normal.
The road trip to Nueva Valencia in the southern part of Guimaras was smooth and fast. The roads leading to the beach resorts and the coastal villages that were affected by the oil spill are well-paved. Bidol, our driver, was very good in maneuvering his orange-red multicab on the curves. Former Associated Press TV cameraman Tim Alipalo would often signal Bidol to stop his multicab so he could take video shots of the island’s vast agricultural resources.
The documentary team I rendezvous with consisted of two photographers (Alex Baluyut and Jimmy Domingo) and cameraman Tim. They’ve been on the island for seven days before I arrived and they all looked wasted. The team was staying at the Freelance Beach Resort at Alubihod beach, Nueva Valencia. It was also the same place where President Arroyo visited a few days before my arrival. She was there to meet with local and national officials to plan the clean-up.
The white sand beach and the crystal clear blue water of Alubihod beach were very enticing. There was not a single trace of oil slick on the beach and on the water. And I asked myself, “where is the oil spill?”

I wanted to take a swim in the beautiful ocean but pressure to work immediately on the tourism story forbade my desire to jump into the water and enjoy it.
Halfway on my story, team leader Alex Baluyut, handed me a bottle of ice cold San Miguel beer. On one side of the wooden table I was working on was a palanggana filled with fresh and steaming sumptuous talaba (oysters). On the other wooden table facing the blue ocean, a big serving of newly-cooked sinigang na talakitok was waiting to be devoured by Tim, Alex and Jimmy. I asked if was safe to eat oil spill talaba and what I got for an answer were a couple of shrugs.
Alex sure knows how to pamper me. He knows my weaknesses. And with more encouraging support coming from Jimmy and Tim slurping on the steaming talakitok, I tried to deviate from the obvious treat. I continued to punch on the laptop keyboard trying in vain to resist the temptation that was laid infront of me ... but it was a restraint in futility.
Just when I was about to finish the story at 4 o-clock in the afternoon, Alex received a call from Manila requesting him to immediately dispatch a writer to interview marine biologist, Dr. Angel Alcala, for an update on the fact-finding survey that his team of scientists did on the oil spill affected areas of Guimaras.
The problem was that Alcala is in Siliman Univerisity in Dumaguete City, and the only time he can be interviewed was Wednesday after lunch. Dumaguete City is in Negros Oriental – another island in central Visayas.

Tim and I were dispatched to catch the last ferry to Bacolod City that same afternoon (Tuesday), and on Wednesday morning, we were riding a rented van on a four-hour ride to Dumaguete City. I only have one hour to interview the former environment secretary. On our way to Dumaguete, I made several phone interviews with local officials in Guimaras so I could finish my tourism story.
After the Alcala interview, we had to drive back to Bacolod City so we could take the early Thursday ferry to Iloilo and then another boat ride to Guimaras.

Back in Guimaras island, I saw several foreigners who had just disembarked from the ferry. I found out that they were Japanese students and Australian vacationers.
I asked one of the Australians, Bill Glover, why he went to Guimaras despite news of the oil spill. His blunt answer to me was: “It’s only temporary! Soon nature will rehabilitate the affected areas and everything will be back to normal.”
On Friday, September 14, Alex and Jimmy dropped me and cameraman Tim at the village of Lucmayan. It is an inlet village surrounded by fishponds that led to a vast mangrove reserve and out to the coves called sitio Budburan.
What I saw in Lucmayan made me what I am again – a photographer. It was an irresistible photographic subject that needs to be frozen on film and digital. The scene was horrendous in a sense that the place seemed to have been turned into a waste dump.
From what I heard from the people who live there, the place was as spotless as white before the oil spill happened. When we got there, the place was almost black with oil stains. The water that was once crystal clear is now a brackish pond of useless liquid.
The bancas (outriggers) that had been brought inland by the fishermen during the early days of the oil spill has blackened due to contamination by the oil slicks.
Tim and I took a banca ride to the coves of Budburan to document the clean-up progress in the area. The sight was breathtaking! It was paradise! And it was also as if the four horsemen of the apocalypse passed by the place and incinerated it.
The scenery above sea level had a surreal eerie stillness. Dozens of seemingly "choking" islets seemed to jut out of the water to grasp for precious air.
But below sea level, the stillness of the sea showed life underneath us. I saw hundreds of star fishes adorning the landscape under the water. The sea grasses danced with the waves created by the banca. I saw lots and lots of shallow water fish swimming in every direction. "They're alive!" I exclaimed.

I took a lot of photographs of what I thought was nature’s awesome way of silently surviving man’s reckless disregard for the environment.
As we neared the shores of the islets, the harsh reality of an oil spill changed our mood from ebullience to melancholic. It was a poignant scene. The mangroves had been severely affected. The roots were pitch black … but I saw some signs of hope on the green leaves branching out for air and nutrients.
Several outriggers carrying clean-up workers arrived and immediately went to work. They replaced worn out booms with new absorbent ones that were supplied by Petron.

They hauled hundreds of sacks filled with contaminated debris. I could see a glimmer of hope on their mask-covered faces as they load sack after sack of debris into the bancas.
The sacks, I was told, would be hauled by trucks and brought to a huge barge. The debris would then be taken to a cement factory in Misamis Oriental on the island of Mindanao.
The fishermen of Lucmayan have now become oil spill clean-up workers. They form part of what Petron calls the Ligtas Guimaras program – a program aimed at bringing Guimaras back to its pristine state. They were paid Php 300 pesos for five hours of cleaning the affected areas.
The women of Lucmayan were also helping the men by gathering dried banana leaves so they could make alternative booms. As I looked at their pensive faces, I could tell that there is nothing in this world they could wish for but to get rid of the oil that has damaged their fishing grounds. At least, the women of Lucmayan showed their resolve in bringing life back to their village.
I also learned that the women were also being paid the same amount as the men were. The same was done in other villages affected by the oil spill.
One of the workers that I talked to said he was happy with the amount being paid to them by Petron. “It’s better than having no work at all,” said Rolando Gaquet, a council member of Lucmayan.
Majority of the residents in the coastal villages of Guimaras Island are dependent on fishing as their primary source of livelihood. Now they want the government and other private agencies to help in the rehabilitation of their marine biodiversity.
Petron health and safety personnel in Lucmayan said that more than 500 metric tons of debris had already been shipped to Misamis Oriental.
Based on a report released by the National Disaster Coordinating Commission on September 13, the massive oil spill has affected 39,004 people or 7,870 families in the provinces of Iloilo, Guimaras and Negros Occidental.
As of September 22, Petron officials have reported that 29 villages in five municipalities affected by the oil spill in Guimaras province had been almost cleaned of pollutants and are just awaiting rehabilitation.
The updated report also stated that a total of 4,727 families (23,635 persons) in Guimaras province were affected. Many of those affected had been hired in the cash-for-work program of the petrochemical company.

In its website, Petron claims to have already cleaned more than 126 kilometers of shoreline with the help of local communities under the “Cash for Work” scheme.

To date, it has collected nearly 1,700 metric tons of debris. It is also working with environmental experts from University of the Philippines-Visayas and Silliman University to create a roadmap for the long-term rehabilitation of Guimaras.
The Guimaras tragedy was a wake up call for the Guimaranons. It has taught them a lesson they will never forget for a long long time. It is a wake up call too for other petrochemical companies and the government to ensure that this kind of sea accident don’t happen again.

Although blame is still to be rendered to those guilty of negligence, the oil spill has likewise awakened a multi-sectoral concern that more stringent measures should be enforced against careless handling of toxic wastes or pollutants.

The shipping lanes for oil tankers should also be re-charted to ensure that floating coffins like the M/V Solar I would not damage marine reserves and biodiversities in the future.
My five-day sojourn to Guimaras and Negros was an experience worthy of the trip. I am thankful to the team who invited me so I could share to the world the progress that is being done on the island.

I am also thankful that there was no reported fish kill in the waters of Guimaras. A fish kill is a negative indicator that pollutants have affected the marine biodiversity of a coastal area. The absence of a fish kill is an indication that there is hope for Guimaras.

And finally, I wish that all efforts should be made to make Guimaras and other places affected by the oil spill a much better place to live in.

Acknowledgement: Photos of Alex Baluyut, Tim Alipalo and sinigang na talakitok were taken by Jimmy Domingo. Photos of Jimmy Domingo and me interviewing Japanese tourists were taken by Alex Baluyut.