Batanes: Gem Isles of Two Seas

By Apolinario Villalobos

Batanes has long been synonymous to typhoon. For those who have not been there, imagined are forlorn islands, rocky and dotted with ever-dilapidated house due to the incessant beating of typhoons. I had the same impression, myself when all the information that I got about the province were mentions from radio weather forecasts.

When I visited Batanes in 1979, I was caught not only by surprise, but filled with wonder. I could not find a word appropriate to describe what I saw while our HS748 plane was touching down the runway of the Basco airport. From my window, I saw rolling grassy hills dotted with square houses, beaches that vary from sandy to rocky, cliffs, hordes of cattle and long strip of highway that wound around hillsides.

When I deplaned, I saw school children crowding outside the fence of the airport terminal. I was told that since the school was just a few meters from the airport, the children were allowed to “meet” arriving flights. This gave the strangers a feeling of being warmly welcomed, as if they were dignitaries. I was told that flight days which were three times a week, lent a festive atmosphere in the town.

PAL had no transportation to ferry the cargoes unclaimed at the airport, to its downtown office, so the staff themselves pulled the big-wheeled cart down the asphalted road. Our caravan went down the road lined with thickly-walled houses, made of concrete and stones. The roofs were made of grass. The houses were simply-designed to withstand the onslaught of typhoon.  Looking at them, I recalled the photos of cottages dotting the glens of Scotland that I saw in a travel magazine.

The three main islands of Batanes are Batan where Basco and the airport are located, Itbayat and Sabtang. The natives of Batanes, as well as, their dialect, are both called Ivatan. During the late ‘70s, the province was dependent on PAL flights and occasional calls of the Philippine navy patrol boat for their food provisions. During typhoon season, due to the limited PAL flights, the locals were left without the necessary groceries for days. There was a story about a PAL recruitment staff, who went there to conduct screening of applicants, and eventually, was marooned for almost two weeks due to the typhoon that lingered over the area. Today, minor domestic airlines have regular flights to the island, making it more accessible to the tourists. Local transistor radios pick up transmissions from stations of Taiwan, rather than, from even the nearest Philippine station.

The Ivatans concoct their own rum called “palek” which is made from sugar cane. During my visit , aside from “palek”, I observed the locals’ heavy consumption of the commercial gin. The reason given to me was that, the liquor provided them the needed warmth due to the unusual cool temperature that prevailed, especially, during the rainy season.

Here’s what I did when I helped myself with an unguided tour of Batan Island. I went first to the Naidi Hills from which I had a panoramic view of the town, the centerpieces of which were the church and the municipal building. I took a north-bound trail that brought me to Diahang Cove, one of the best picnic sites on the island. A sandy and pebbly canal connected to a bigger one suggested that the cove used to be an outflow passage of a creek, but has dried up in time. On the left of the cove was a towering rock face dotted with patches of creepers and wild begonias. Nearby was a well, an oasis of farm animals left to fend for themselves while the weather was fine.

Following a trail up another hill, I reached a feeder road that led to a vast pastureland shared by Ivatans among themselves. In this particular area, I found cattle precariously grazing by the cliff or on the highest pinnacle of a hill with only their horns discernible from below.

Half a kilometer further, I followed a stone-inlaid pathway the led to a vast flat grassland overlooking an intriguing kilometer- long beach which was practically covered with black stones smoothened by big waves. Some of the stones measured ten feet in diameter. The stones made eerie sound when pounded by big waves.

I found a long gulley covered on both sides with trees, their heavily- foliaged branches providing a natural canopy to the length of the depression. When I asked a local about it later on, I was told that it used to be a river, but having dried up, it provided shelter to farm animals caught by bad weather. The gulley led to Mt. Iraya, en extinct volcano with a towering height of 3,326 feet above sea level.

From the foot of Mt. Iraya, I retraced my steps back to the town and from there took another trail that led to Tokon, site of Japanese tunnels that saw better use during the WWII. Its elevation was more than a thousand feet, from which I had a commanding view of the areas around me, including the airport. Going further, I reached the other side of the island where the locals fish for “arayo” which according to them could sometimes weigh eighty kilos. They used flying fish for bait.

During my visit, there was only one “bus” that plied around the island. It left the town in the morning for the other side of the island, wounding its way on hills cut on the side of the hilly landscape. I noticed traffic signs distributed along the length of the highway that warned motorists about “animals crossing”.

An ordinary Ivatan home is merely a one-room affair characterized by thick walls made of lime and stone, roof made of thickly bundled grass, two big windows and two doors. I visited a home of a befriended local and he welcomed me to their abode where I found one big room with spaces assigned for dining and sleeping that also served as a sala at daytime. I found bunches of garlics and onions hanging from the rafters of the kitchen area. I found out that their home had a cistern where rainwater was collected. The well-to-do Ivatans have lately constructed two-storey homes, but still with the basic characters to withstand the typhoons.

Batanes is for everybody – artists who long for new inspiring sceneries, sophisticates who want to go back to nature, rough-it-types who are scouting for new adventure, romantics who love to be alone, millionaires who want to enjoy life in anonymity, honeymooners, trekkers, etc. It is practically a balm, for the city-weary body. Just by sitting on a hill overlooking the bay, one is guaranteed of an exhilarating rest while immersed in the sweet bird calls and gentle whooshing hum of the wind. Visitors are advised not to pick up plants in the wild that catch their fancy. This is the only way that visitors can help the government in maintaining the pristine nature-based allure of the province.

It is difficult to define Batanes from any angle. Its beauty is different from other places that I have visited. I felt a different feeling as I walked down its immaculate clean roads, aside from experiencing a tingling sensation every time I looked at an Ivatan home, made more exotic by the flowers of creepers that cling to its walls.

During my visit, the most popular “home” for visitors was that of Mrs. Lily Salvador’s. I am wondering now, if she is still around or her children continued her legacy of accommodating guests from Manila. For sure, lodging houses are now thriving in the province. Small domestic airlines fly to Batanes regularly.

(Lately, a radio broadcaster mentioned that there is thriving resort in Basco owned by the sibling of a “very popular department secretary” under the “care” of the President. The family is from that province. The broadcaster said that while the whole length of the  main thoroughfares of Basco are not consistently cemented as there are portions still paved with asphalt, practically all roads leading to the resort of the secretary’s sibling, are cemented!

The broadcaster is wondering where the pork budget of the current secretary when he was yet a congressman, and his wife’s, who also had a  stint as representative, went….Purportedly, a daughter of the secretary also holds a very sensitive and crucial position in Malacaῆan.  Aside from her, other relatives are distributed in different departments. In the Filipino language, such system is called “pakyaw”. )