Across Mindoro Island On Foot and A Raft
Posted on Sunday, 14 September 2014
Across
Mindoro Island On Foot And A Raft
By Apolinario Villalobos
The plan to traverse the island of Mindoro
from Calapan to Mamburao, was concocted at the house of Dr. Gus Guerrero of the
Mountaineering Association of the Philippines (MAP). The invitation to join
their small group was extended just after I, together with the PAL
Mountaineers, concluded a cross-country trek of the Leyte Mountain Trail. At
the house of Dr. Guerrero slides presentation was made to show the terrain of
the Mindoro with all its rivers, tributaries and waterfalls. The plan was to
start the trek from Villa Cervesa at Calapan, then trek up the forested side,
and the Eagle Pass, to look for the source of Amnay River, then, using a rubber
raft, drift down to the China Sea. Gus was confident that everything would be
alright as he has explored the area during his stint with the PANAMIN, a
government agency that worked for the uplift of the indigenous tribes during
the time of President Ferdinand Marcos. There were four of us that evening,
huddled over several bottles of beer while discussing the trek – Gus Guerero,
Vincent Christian, Bobby Sison and I. The plan was to extend the invitation to
a limited number of friends due to the “nature” of the expedition.
Finally, Gus was able to get confirmations
to join from Bobby Sison, Dul Gemora, Fred Jamili and I. The inflatable life raft
which Vincent and I picked up from the Philippine Navy Headquarters at Sangley
in Cavite was through the courtesy of the then, Rear Admiral Simeon Alejandro.
Our journey started at a bus terminal in
Pasay City on September 18, 1982 for a ride to Batangas City from where a ferry
was to be taken for Calapan, Mindoro. There was a threatening storm on that
day, so that our sailing from Batangas City to Calapan was not smooth. On board
the ferry, Gus, a doctor by profession, briefed us on the use of an instrument
for reviving a drowned person.
Dul Gemora who went ahead to Calapan days
before to look for Mangyan porters was at the Calapan wharf upon our arrival.
Everything was well coordinated as we disembarked from the ferry up to the time
we left for Villa Cerveza, a sitio of Victoria, and a last-minute shopping for
additional provisions.
At Barangay Cerveza, Dul introduced us to
our Mangyan porters, whom he got from Baco, a nearby district. Barangay
Chairman, Isabelo M. Malamanis of Villa Cerveza, accommodated us for the night.
Casually, he asked us for our “mission”. He could not seem to comprehend that
what we were doing was just for fun. We told him that, as gambling is for
gamblers, liquor is for drunkards, so is mountaineering for us – nature lovers.
He accommodated us for the night and introduced us to his two trusted men who
would guide us up to the mouth of Amnay River.
Before we retired for the night, he did not
stop from discouraging us by confiding that the river could have swelled due to
incessant rains, and there was yet, the raging typhoon, and worse, the
population of the leeches must have tripled due to the rainy season! All we
told him was, we leave everything to the Lord!
At dawn, Fred Jamili had a nightmare. I had
to nudge him awake to stop him from waking the neighborhood up with his shouts
of “where?...where?”. When asked about it over breakfast, he told us that he
could not recall anything. We just presumed that perhaps, he was dreaming that
we got lost and in despair, he shouted.
Day
1
It was a pleasant day when we left the
barrio to start our trek, despite the forecast the day before, about a typhoon
that would whip Mindoro. We left just before the sun was up. In no time, we
reached Aglubang River whose rushing water reached up to our waist at the
deepest, and spans about twenty meters at its widest.
After Aglubang, we made it to Ibulo River
in less than an hour, and which was swollen a little bit according to our
guides. After crossing it, we rubbed our bodies, clothes, socks and shoes with
laundry soap to deter the leeches which abound in the area.
After about an hour of trek, the leading
guide pointed to the mountain ahead of us, indicating that it was Mt.
Balagayon. It was yet a little farther, but which we had to cross before
reaching the Eagle Pass. At the foot of the mountain lived Nganga, a Bicolano
who had been in this part of the island for a long time, and came to be called
such name because of his habit of chewing betel nuts that made his mouth,
eternally blood red. He was supposed to join the guides up to the mouth of Amnay
River because of his thorough knowledge of the area. Unfortunately, he was
sick, so we had no other choice but be satisfied with the two from Villa
Cervesa.
From Nganga’s house, it was an upward trek
following a Mangyan trail that wound through the thick forests of Mt.
Balagayaon. True to Mr. Malamanis’ words, leeches were at their thickest at
this time of the year, and they feasted on us! We had to stop from time to time
to check each other for the leeches that needed to be removed from our face,
ear and eyes. Some clung firmly. Practically, the soap was no match against
them. One after another, the Mangyan porters groaned under the weight of the 62
kilos life raft which each of them carried at an interval of fifteen minutes.
There was an intermittent drizzle before we
reached Balisong which we targeted at noontime, but failed to do, so that we
were forced to take our lunch by the river while taking a break for twenty
minutes. The drizzle became a downpour. Along the way, I learned from one of
the guides that the name of the place, Balisong, referred to a small waterfall
that gently cascades down boulders covered with creepers and ferns.
Our going was slow because of the stops for
the regular check we made to each other for leeches, aside from the slippery
trail that we were following. While negotiating one of the ridges, Bobby
unfortunately slipped on a flat rock. He was thankful to a bush which stopped
his fall, though he sprained his left knee as a result. His fall caused a
commotion among the Mangyan porters because they thought, he encountered a
snake.
We reached Ugos River late in the afternoon
under a heavy rain. Instead of tents, we decided to use three ponchos as
shelter that we pitched on an elevated area. It barely accommodated the
thirteen of us, including the guides and the Mangyan porters.
Day
2
The following day, we broke camp after a
light breakfast and moved on despite the heavy rain. It was a tough start for
us, while aiming for the Eagle Pass. The thick primary forest this time yielded
one more kind of leech, a green one with yellow stripe, in addition to the
black ones that abound on the ground.
From behind the thick foliage, we could
hear the distant gurgling of a river which we were told was still Ugos. We were
following a Mangyan trail leading towards the west as we moved on, and the
forest becoming thicker. At about noontime, the leading guide told us that we
had to follow another trail because the old one which they were using before
was gone. Everybody became impatient, especially, Gus who told us earlier that
we were supposed to come out of the forest into a vast cogonal area at about
noontime. The group decided then, to blaze another trail leading towards the
river below. Reluctantly, the leading guide consented while the other one was
sent to find out the extent of the trail that we were following.
We went down the ridge, practically wading
through thick clumps of cogon grass while Fred was left halfway to give signal
to the rest if it was alright for them to follow us. Meanwhile, Dul took charge
of the equipment. In half an hour, we were able to blaze a new trail.
Unfortunately, it was not Amnay River that we found. One of the guides refused
to join us further up, for fear perhaps of the several waterfalls that we had
to negotiate. With just a mumbled instruction for us to wait for him, he went
up again. We were left shivering in the rain for about an hour and a half.
After almost an eternity, the guide returned with Tony, a Mangyan whom he found
working in a “kaingin” on the slope of the nearby mountain. After a brief
introduction, we were on our way again with Tony leading us. Halfway up, Gus
stopped to bandage his left knee which was giving up.
After almost an hour, we came out of the
forest into a sea of cogon grass! On our right, we could distinctly hear the
sound of a river which Tony confirmed as Amnay. As if for a climax, the Eagle
Pass made us gingerly trudge on its two-foot wide ridge with a length of about
400 meters. And, this we had to do without looking at both sides – practically
cliffs covered with grass. Bobby got another scare of his life when he slipped
again! Our effort was compensated with the fantastic view of the ribbon-like
and foaming Amnay way below!
On the banks of the river were Mangyan huts
that constitute Barrio Ugos. Barangay Chairman Garong allowed us to use one of
the communal huts which could normally accommodate five families. Tony, the
Mangyan guide who led us down refused to accept the money that we offered as
remuneration for his effort. Instead, he asked for some amount of salt which we
readily gave. The suppressed joy on the face of Tony upon receiving the bag of
salt gave me a tingling sensation down my spine.
That afternoon, we tried the rapids of the
river using the modular type life raft that the Philippine Navy lent to us.
They had five separate air modules which we thought would be very advantageous
considering all the threatening rocks and boulders. But during the test run, we
found out that we were helpless against the current. Also, in our group, only
Fred and Bobby were familiar with paddling. On the aspect of running this kind
of river, everybody was zero in experience. So there was no disagreement on
leaving everything to fate. We were already one day behind the planned
itinerary.
Day
3
We woke up early to prepare ourselves for
the start of our “critical” journey. There was no solid food taken, except for
a bite of chocolate downed with coffee and milk. This, according to Gus would
prevent choking when somebody gets drowned! That early morning, too, the guides
and porters from Villa Cervesa left us.
Just when everybody was raring to go, we
found the front half of the raft’s main chamber deflated! There was a hole,
obviously, that we fortunately discovered after an almost thirty minutes of
search. It got patched up eventually. Since the start of our journey that
morning, we got stuck eight times and got caught in a whirlpool! We managed to
run only about seven kilometers of the river when we finally stopped before a
fast bend strewn with protruding rocks. The bend was where the Ugos also
flowed, so that one can just imagine the current as a result of the merging.
We were trying to reach a consensus whether
to avoid the bend by carrying the raft and our packs to the other side or go on
when Pidyo Mondejar spotted us – from the other side. We introduced ourselves
by hollering to him. We threw the life rope to him to support us while crossing
the river to his side. He was such a helpful fellow and we found out that he
was working at a nearby ranch owned by a certain Dr. Tolentino and Judge
Abeleda.
He was told by a Mangyan about the presence
of strangers – us, so he came to investigate. He warned us about the gorge and
a waterfall that are dangerous down which we were targeting. An investigation
was made, and it was confirmed, so that we decided to avoid the bend. We
carried the raft on the other side then, and went on with the run with Pidyo
who enjoyed the bumps and his occasional fall. We managed to cover about two
kilometers until darkness caught up with us. Pidyo suggested that we spend the
night at the ranch, and leave the raft by the bank.
The ranch was supposedly just “behind the
hill” ahead of us. But the muddy trail made our progress sickeningly slow.
Until finally, pitch darkness enveloped us. Pidyo admitted that he was sort of
confused as he was losing the trail, despite the help of two flashlights. After
about three hours of walking like zombies, we finally reached the ranch. Each
one of us just tried to find a cozy corner for the night…without giving
attention to the pang of hunger.
Day
4
The following day, Pidyo and Gus inspected
the river for calculations. When they came back, they reportedly failed to see
the gorge. In other words, there was indeed, a waterfall that drops to several
meters!
After breakfast, we discussed our strategy.
The plan decided on was to ride the raft until it reached the bend where it
would be allowed to fall down the waterfall and go with the current up to the
bend at the ranch where I would be waiting. Those who rode the raft, would
retrace their way back to the ranch. At the last minute, however, they decided
to ride on the raft and take chance in falling with it down the waterfall which
they enjoyed, even the bumps on the boulders. Pidyo even fell down but before
anybody could react, he was back to his place in the raft, as if pulled by a
rubber band!
At the ranch, over lunch, Pidyo was
excitedly giving hint that he would like to experience the run all the way to
the China Sea in Mamburao. It would be impossible, except if one of us should
give up his space. I decided to do it – give my place to Pidyo and trek my way
to Mamburao over mountain trails with three Mangyan boys as guides.
Day
5
The following morning, the three Mangyan
boys and I started out just before sunup. The boys were Nito, Lito and Canoy.
They warned me of several mountains that we had to traverse and several rivers
that we had to cross. I thought it to be just okey, considering my experience
in the just concluded mountaineering and river trekking along the Leyte
Mountain Trail.
First we followed Amnay River until we
reached Labongan River which we crossed. It was waist deep but the current was
strong. Ikbo river was next, and then, Amnay again where I was almost carried
far downstream by the strong current, had I not taken hold of a boulder. From
Amnay, we trekked up Mt. Kabalagonan where monkeys greeted us with their
shrieks. We continued on to Tingo mountain without resting a bit until we
reached Sipuyo River which we had to cross again, after which we went up Mt.
Palasa and onward to Mt. Hibaltang where we met two Mangyans. This time, rain
fell. We doubled out time to reach a Mangyan village at the foot of another
mountain where we planned to have lunch. At about noontime, we found a Mangyan
hut where we rested and took our lunch of rice, mushrooms found along the way,
and shrimp caught in the river.
Immediately after our lunch, we started for
Pentin, the last river that we had to cross. It was tough treading on the knee-deep,
soft sandy and muddy banks of the river until we reached a safe portion which
we crossed. I was wrong to assume that everything would be fine after all the
river crossings. The typhoon that hit the island of Mindoro two days before,
inundated many rice fields and caused the overflowing of two lakes. Mud was
knee deep but we went on traversing the one last hill before finally reaching
barangay Pinagtorilan.
Looking back from atop the hill, I consoled
myself for having reach this far, alive after the trek over several mountains
and twenty-six crossings of the major rivers and their branching outflows due
to the flood. Pinagtorilan still showed some signs of the inundation which it
suffered resulting from the onslaught of typhoon Ruping. Barangay councilman
Jose Iῆigo told us that the water rose to about seven feet. The kind barrio
official accommodated us for the night.
Day
6
We left Pinagtorilan early the following
morning for Sta. Cruz. Earlier, I decided that we hike all the way to the said
town but changed my mind when I saw Canoy limping. We therefore, just hiked for
about sixteen kilometers over partly -flooded roads, then we turned left at a
junction for Puyo where an outrigger canoe could be taken for Sta. Cruz which
was another sixteen kilometers away, yet. The outrigger fetched us at about
noontime and I was glad that we need not transfer to another canoe if we just
follow the shallow part of the sea and negotiate a river all the way up to Sta.
Cruz. While on our way to the open sea, we encountered four big waves that
soaked my backpack including the camera which I failed to put inside a plastic
bag.
Upon reaching Sta. Cruz, my Mangyan guides
stayed behind for their trek back to their village, while I took a jeepney all
the way to Mamburao airport where I
found the rest of the group – Fred Jamili, Dul Gemora, Dr. Gus Guerrero and
Bobby Sison, relaxing. Also, on hand to meet me was the PAL station manager who
remarked that we accomplished something never done before, and during a
typhoon, yet. I found out that those who took the river were able to make it to
China Sea as planned despite difficulties, although faster compared to my trek
and river crossing, as they reached Mamburao ahead of me by about four hours.
That day, there was no scheduled PAL flight
so we had the whole airport terminal for our tired bodies. We consoled
ourselves with the thought that despite our inexperience in canoeing, we were
able to make it - traverse Mindoro
Island, from Calapan to Mamburao, on foot and a raft in six days!
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