26 August 2010
Gutob Bay – Illutuk Bay
Busuanga, Palawan, Philippines
It was a risk to do this cruise during the habagat (monsoon) season. So far we’ve been extremely lucky and blessed with fair weather. We’ve had a squall here and there, nothing bad, just enough to cool us down and wash our deck. But the weather’s been too good to be true and the habagat is now rearing its ugly face.
We woke up to heavy rain clouds threatening to burst at any moment. Approaching Illutuk Bay, there was a squall approaching our way and it was a bet whether we would get to the narrow entrance before it did. It was quite a tricky entry with a shallow reef at port (left side) and required hugging the rock wall on starboard (right). Once past the entrance, we needed to maneuver through a tight and winding path with 5 turns within 1 nautical mile- the equivalent of a water slalom course. We were faced with uncertainty whether we should proceed and risk navigating through the delicate entrance and twisting turns in a squall (the rock wall on the right looked painful…), or wait indefinitely outside the entrance in 8-10 foot waves for the squall to pass. The entrance is a strong tidal stream and it was not a smart idea to be there in rough conditions. We opted for the former and, luckily, we made it through before the squall hit. (If you want to read a hairy close encounter with a squall, click here).
We were met by calm waters at our anchorage just off the entrance to the Calauit safari. We were in a typhoon hole- a natural harbor that provides natural protection from powerful winds and typhoons from all directions. Incredibly, the water was flat despite the strong winds. A stone’s throw away, the waves were 8-10 feet which quickly disappeared when we entered this place. Typhoon holes are amazing places and God’s gift to sailors and fishermen.
The rest of the morning brought a gentle rain which revealed a different kind of beauty and serenity- fine quiet raindrops which made our surroundings look like it was shrouded in a very light fog. We cleaned up the boat and I washed dishes out on deck instead of indoors in the light drizzle and cool breeze. There was no other human being in sight, just the mountains and water around us with Carole King singing in the background. Raul thought he saw a dugong surface several times a few feet from our boat.
The rest of the day, however, was a different story. Torrential rain accompanied by powerful winds pummeled us and didn’t let up till after bedtime. This wasn’t the pleasure drizzle I enjoyed earlier but one that needed heavy duty raincoats. We got a text message the night before warning us of 2 low pressure areas (LPAs) approaching the Philippines. Since we started 8 days ago, we’ve had Smart signal even in the remotest islands, allowing us to check the weather and receive weather reports via friends cum designated weather reporters. Where was Smart signal when we needed it? This was the only day when we really needed it to see how the LPAs were developing. We didn’t know if this was a squall that will soon be over or a full-fledged typhoon. The uncertainty was killing us.
So we sat inside Paraluman with no connection to the outside world in heavy pouring rain. The light fog earlier turned into a complete white-out with visibility of about 10 feet. The wind was howling, the wind meter showed 20 knot winds gusting to 35, Paraluman was rocking and creaking and a rope was banging on the mast.
In moments like these, I reminded myself that foul weather is part and parcel of cruising, just as traffic standstills, nerve-wracking deadlines and assholes in the office are part of everyday city life. Deal with it, smile and move on.
So Raul and I checked one last time that we and Paraluman are safe. I reassured myself that I was in a typhoon hole, that our anchor is made by experts, that we released enough line and that no typhoon can last forever. Then we enjoyed the moment. I cooked a full meal, we enjoyed a childhood board game of Pente, and spent the rest of the evening doubled up over Mariel’s singing and silly dances. Our laughter easily drowned the racket outside. A little rain ain’t no party pooper.
12 nm from Gutob Bay to Illutuk Bay. The entrance to the Calauit Safari is in Illutuk Bay and is one of 4 marked anchorages in the Busuanga nautical charts. There’s a shallow reef at port at entry so stay on starboard side. There are dugong sightings in this area.
Gutob Bay – Illutuk Bay
Busuanga, Palawan, Philippines
It was a risk to do this cruise during the habagat (monsoon) season. So far we’ve been extremely lucky and blessed with fair weather. We’ve had a squall here and there, nothing bad, just enough to cool us down and wash our deck. But the weather’s been too good to be true and the habagat is now rearing its ugly face.
 |
| One of numerous squalls during the habagat season |
We were met by calm waters at our anchorage just off the entrance to the Calauit safari. We were in a typhoon hole- a natural harbor that provides natural protection from powerful winds and typhoons from all directions. Incredibly, the water was flat despite the strong winds. A stone’s throw away, the waves were 8-10 feet which quickly disappeared when we entered this place. Typhoon holes are amazing places and God’s gift to sailors and fishermen.
The rest of the morning brought a gentle rain which revealed a different kind of beauty and serenity- fine quiet raindrops which made our surroundings look like it was shrouded in a very light fog. We cleaned up the boat and I washed dishes out on deck instead of indoors in the light drizzle and cool breeze. There was no other human being in sight, just the mountains and water around us with Carole King singing in the background. Raul thought he saw a dugong surface several times a few feet from our boat.
The rest of the day, however, was a different story. Torrential rain accompanied by powerful winds pummeled us and didn’t let up till after bedtime. This wasn’t the pleasure drizzle I enjoyed earlier but one that needed heavy duty raincoats. We got a text message the night before warning us of 2 low pressure areas (LPAs) approaching the Philippines. Since we started 8 days ago, we’ve had Smart signal even in the remotest islands, allowing us to check the weather and receive weather reports via friends cum designated weather reporters. Where was Smart signal when we needed it? This was the only day when we really needed it to see how the LPAs were developing. We didn’t know if this was a squall that will soon be over or a full-fledged typhoon. The uncertainty was killing us.
So we sat inside Paraluman with no connection to the outside world in heavy pouring rain. The light fog earlier turned into a complete white-out with visibility of about 10 feet. The wind was howling, the wind meter showed 20 knot winds gusting to 35, Paraluman was rocking and creaking and a rope was banging on the mast.
In moments like these, I reminded myself that foul weather is part and parcel of cruising, just as traffic standstills, nerve-wracking deadlines and assholes in the office are part of everyday city life. Deal with it, smile and move on.
So Raul and I checked one last time that we and Paraluman are safe. I reassured myself that I was in a typhoon hole, that our anchor is made by experts, that we released enough line and that no typhoon can last forever. Then we enjoyed the moment. I cooked a full meal, we enjoyed a childhood board game of Pente, and spent the rest of the evening doubled up over Mariel’s singing and silly dances. Our laughter easily drowned the racket outside. A little rain ain’t no party pooper.
12 nm from Gutob Bay to Illutuk Bay. The entrance to the Calauit Safari is in Illutuk Bay and is one of 4 marked anchorages in the Busuanga nautical charts. There’s a shallow reef at port at entry so stay on starboard side. There are dugong sightings in this area.
1 comment:
There is obviously a lot to know about this. I think you made some good points in Features also. Keep working ,great job!.
Post a Comment