“WHEN I say jump,” our smiling Butanding Interaction Officer (BIO) named Recto said to the five of us, “you jump into the water. Do not hesitate. Forget everything and jump. And when I say, look down, look down.” He presumed no one was faint of heart and that we believed we were in safe hands.
Our boat was several kilometers from the shore and we were sailing on deep water. It was a great morning. The April sun was ablaze, the water was very calm and with nary a ripple or wave. Azure sky, azure sea.
Then the spotter signaled for us to get ready. We lowered our goggles and bit the snorkel mouthpiece. We all sat side by side on the bamboo ledge on the side of the boat, eager and excited. The boatman turned off the engine and suddenly it was so quiet. With a paddle, he navigated toward a spot.
“Jump!” our BIO hollered and, without hesitation, we all jumped with him into the sea, feet first. It was like a leap of faith. “Relax!” he said, after our heads surfaced. After a few seconds he commanded, “Look down!” We all dipped our heads into the water and gazed into the deep.
There it was, a couple of meters below me, a butanding waiting to be seen. I was beholding a huge grayish blue, speckled whale shark, flaunting its wide back. It didn’t splash or wiggle, it was just there. It was a sight to behold. And then it was gone.
We had several sightings and jumps. For the last one I decided to stay on the boat and view from a distance the butanding gliding near the surface. I saw it as a dark silhouette on a background of blue. And then it lowered itself and vanished from my sight.
I don’t want to say more about my personal experience. You have to experience it for yourself. I was told that some are moved to tears. It’s like seeing the Mayon Volcano or the Grand Canyon for the first time except that the butanding does not stay fixed before your eyes, it decides when to swim away.
The presence of whale sharks (rhincodon typus) in Donsol is not a modern-day phenomenon. The locals had known about them for more than 100 years but it was only in the last decade that they became convinced that these sharks were harmless and not fearsome like their predatory counterparts. The butanding are the world’s biggest fish and could grow up to more than 15 meters. Donsol is now known as the world’s “Whale Shark Capital.” Time magazine called the butanding experience “Best Animal Encounter in Asia”.
For so long the butanding were only fished for their meat. They were not considered an important presence with great ecological significance and eco-tourism potential. Or that their preservation could provide environmental lessons.
According to our info kit, things changed in 1998 when professional divers led by Romir Aglugub discovered their presence and interacted with them. The divers proved that the whale sharks were docile and fed only on krill and other small creatures. Donsol was/is a rich feeding ground for these huge sharks. After that “discovery” one thing led to another and the rest is history.
Interaction with the butanding is strictly regulated by the Department of Tourism. The World Wildlife Fund provides guidelines which includes limited number of interactors (six to a boat), no scuba diving, three-meter distance, no touching, no mobbing by boats or swimmers. The Butanding Interaction Office gives briefings before a trip.
But despite the regulations, the butanding have bad days, such as when one gets hit by a boat propeller, or shot for commercial reasons. It’s a wonder that they have not moved away somewhere else to feed, but continue to return every year, with peak season from February to May. This year, the butanding festival is from April 26 to May 5.
And the fireflies. Included in our Donsol visit was a night cruise on Ogod River. It was a moonless night but a million stars brightened up the sky. I had not seen the heavens that way in a long, long time. The boatmen used flashlights to guide our way to a place downstream where we could find mangrove trees lighted up with fireflies. After gazing at the heavens for some time our eyes turned to the trees that were ablaze and pulsating. To my eyes, the fireflies became a symphony of lights competing with the stars.
Our weekend trip was not all about whale sharks. Our caravan stopped for meals, rest and sights. We rested at the Quezon National Park, had photo shoots in Albay’s Cagsawa ruins with Mayon volcano as backdrop, visited the Camarines Sur’s Watersports Complex famous for wakeboarding.
And so here’s sharing with you our Inquirer summer adventure, with thanks to the Inquirer’s Outdoors Club organizers, fellow adventurers, drivers, photographers, and especially Inquirer Supplements editor Aries Espinosa and Motoring Section’s Tessa Salazar who were on top of the trip and drove like pros. (Photos are featured on their pages.) Thanks to Toyota Motors (for providing the comfy vans, SUVs, pick-up), the resorts, the tourism council and people of Donsol, Sorsogon and all those who helped make this April interlude memorable.
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