Thursday and Friday, May 1 and 2, 2025
Planes, trains and automobiles, or rather the Philippine dive travel version: shuttle buses, a short plane flight, a longish van transfer and finally a ferry to Malapascua Island, north of the island of Cebu.
Thursday, our departure day from Anilao, was a leisurely morning of packing, saying goodbye to Dennis, an omelette breakfast. We skipped ordering lunch a la carte and were driven by Irish to the Belmont Hotel in Manila in 2.5 hours, an expeditious (thankfully not scary) transit. Steve, Greg and I had all enjoyed getting back into blackwater diving, a specialty of Anilao, which you can catch up on here.
Waving good-bye to Anilao, a pair of bigfin reef squid (Sepioteuthis lessoniana), until next time!
We arrived in the afternoon, in time to head to the lavish upscale mall within walking distance. Dinner at Gordon Ramsey Bar and Grill was a make-up affair, as we were all feeling a little culinarily deprived after the more basic offerings of Aiyanar. Whole sea bream with lemon and caper sauce, sides of roasted pumpkin and corn, an unusually tall and amazing tarte tatin and a sensuously unctuous chocolate tart were consumed with avidity.
The three of us were joining a group we knew from prior voyages organized by Lynn Morton, to Baja in 2022 , Fiji in 2023 and Philippines last year (Tubbataha, Visayas and Dumaguete). (Uh yeah, Dumaguete definitely deserves its own write-up!) Sadly, Lynn herself was sidelined by back issues which had robbed her of many dives on prior trips. Her husband Mike Boom was “promoted” to group wrangler-in-chief, a task he capably dispatched.
Our pinch-hitting fearless leader, Mike, as rendered by Steve’s new AI app.
Mike’s sisters, Terri and Sandy, we knew from Fiji. Terri would join us on the next leg, in Bohol.
Sandy, Mike’s sister.
Terri, Mike’s other sister, complete with Montana backdrop.
Laura from Long Beach we knew from three prior trips.
Dan, retired biologist from Morro Bay area.
Dan’s wife Sarah, retired botanist, casual snorkeler and avid knitter. She was probably the only one among us who actually made use of our beach-front accommodation.
Dan and Sarah were on the Baja trip. The only new addition to the group was Kim, also from San Diego, who Sandy met at a party through a mutual friend. California was overwhelmingly represented, with only Greg from Chicago and Terri from Montana having to travel from beyond the West Coast.
Our Malapascua travel day started unbelievably early, but it got us to the island by noon. Our wake-up call was at 2 am, to shower, re-pack and be in the lobby by 2:45 am to be taken by shuttle bus to the nearby airport for our 5:45 am 1-hour flight. Luggage collected, we were loaded into vans for a traverse of the length of the island, almost 4 hours, to the ferry terminal, which deposited us at Ocean Vida Resort, our home for the next week. The porters at the landing hefted our large and heavy gear bags onto their shoulders and stepped from a short flight of eroded concrete steps onto the prow of the ferry as daintily as dancers in a ballet chorus. I was reminded of how nimbly elephants in northern Thailand negotiated a narrow trail with a steep drop-off on one side, despite their large feet being nearly the same width as the dirt path.
The red dot is Malapascua, a small island north of Cebu Island. From Manila, we took a 1 hour flight to Cebu City, then were transported in vans half the length of the island (4 hours) north to catch a ferry, for a 45 minute crossing.
Malapascua Island, Philippines, aerial view. Our resort, Ocean Vida, occupies the lower left corner, from the two adjacent Sea Explorer boats (the two closest) and to the left.
We had the afternoon to load our gear into plastic boxes for transport onto our private group boat and to build our cameras. I was eager to do a Mandarin fish twilight dive, and Greg was willing but we were dissuaded by news from Mike that a large group of Asian divers were planning to dive the site that very evening. Large groups tend to be clumsy in the water and Mandarin fish are easily spooked. We use red lights to focus on the sensitive mating pairs. We decided to postpone, hearing this group would be gone in two days.
Saturday, May 3, 2025
Our initial plan for today was a 5 am 2-tank thresher shark dive. By yesterday evening, reports of ripping currents led to the plan being modified to a 3-tank excursion to Gato Island. Recurrent GI issues in the night kept me from going. Three disrupted nights met my threshold for “severe traveler’s diarrhea” warranting treatment with antibiotics. Three doses of Pepto later, I started Cipro.
I also woke up with a clogged left nostril and my left nose ran for the rest of the day. In retrospect, I suspect I had a tiny head cold, although I didn’t otherwise feel ill. Sarah was recovering from an illness and was still troubled by bouts of coughing. I’d had a “water in the ear” sensation on the left since after our first dive at Anilao but with no pain and no difficulty clearing, I continued to dive.
The spa was fully booked, so I couldn’t be massaged or scrubbed, even if I really felt up to it. Reports from Greg and Steve indicated not much exceptional at Gato Island. Of course, both are rather spoiled when it comes to Indo-Pacific diving.
Sunday, May 4, 2025
Alopias pelagicus, commonly known as the thresher shark for its distinctive long, scythe-like tail, was the primary attraction driving this return trip to the Philippines. It is a type of mackerel shark or Lamniformes.
The thresher shark’s genus, Alopias, derives from a Greek word meaning fox, a reference to the long, distinctive tail. All three species are considered vulnerable by the World Conservation Union (IUCN) since 2007, being targeted both for sport and commercial fishing. The caudal fin can be as long as the body and is employed by the shark as a whip to stun small fish.
Malapascua is the only place in the world where recreational divers can reliably (as reliable as nature ever is) see thresher sharks. Greg had traveled previously to Malapascua with Tanya and Kevin after our first Anilao trip in 2016 and had been treated only to a single distant pass. It had been 14 years since Mike, Lynn and Laura had been to the island. Dan mentioned that in his long career working as a biologist in the Channel Islands, threshers would occasionally be seen leaping out of the water but he had never seen one underwater.
There are now so many dive operators and boats on Malapascua that Dor and Martin advised leaving extremely early for the thresher shark dives.
Surface interval at Kimud Shoal near Malapascua Island, Philippines: we had plenty of company.
In the past, the threshers were only seen just after dawn. Although the explosion in divers traveling to see the sharks is undesirable, there has been a recent major improvement in the photography conditions for the sharks. In 2022, the threshers moved to a much shallower reef. Previously, they were seen in the deep, at 80-90 feet or so, on Monad Shoal, but in 2022, they relocated (maybe due to the appearance of tiger sharks at Monad) to shallower Kimud Shoal, another underwater island, where the depths are in the 40-50 foot range. There has also been a change in the time of day when the threshers may be seen. Previously, they were seen near dawn in dark deep waters, but now they can be seen during the day at shallower, better-lit Kimud Shoal.
Our early departure was not as early as advised. The previous evening, probably after most had gone to sleep (I was in bed by 8 pm), our Whats App group text erupted with the following string:
5:45 am is a quite early departure, but 4:45 am??! It turned out it was supposed to be 4:45 am.
The dives almost didn’t happen for me. Between GI issues and ear and nasal stuffiness, I had laid off diving for 3 days but really didn’t want to miss out on the thresher sharks. Descending the line for the first 10 feet was agony. One foot down, two feet up, creeping in response to the heading exploding sensation. Surprisingly, the left side, although noisy, was clearing OK, but the right side was quite difficult to clear. I generally have no issues clearing and never have to resort to the nose-pinching maneuvers some people employ. This isn’t a process that can be hurried if it isn’t going well but usually I don’t even have to think about equalizing. Today, it was all I could think about. It was so bad the first dive that I was sure I wouldn’t be able to make the second. I did, somehow, but it took me forever to descend the first 10 feet. Steve, Greg and I were paired with Laura in one dive group led by Genesis, who patiently hovered as I painstakingly inched my way down. Mike, Kim, Sandy and Dan were led by Martin (Sarah doesn’t dive). Genesis was easy to spot underwater, wearing a pair of mismatched fins, one white. We also saw this at Amun Ini, our next dive resort. I’m guessing this is to make it easier for guests to distinguish the guides from other guests, so as not to confuse one’s group with others.
Down on the plateau, at 40-45 feet of depth, I could manage, as long as I didn’t change depths very quickly. We’d been instructed to hover above the reef and not to plant ourselves down on it. Perhaps for this reason, the reef appeared to be quite healthy.
My camera was displaying something unfamiliar. I thought I had it set it up for Continuous high shooting, since strobes are not permitted with the thresher sharks. It turned out, I had captured many very short MP4 video files. Photographically, I blew it! I had many close passes, but what I had captured was too short to be useful as video and too low resolution to pull out useful frame grabs. Kim was exulting at her “success” at capturing the sharks without divers in the frame, perhaps not realizing swimming out towards the sharks frustrates other photographers with similar objectives.
All I was able to salvage from my first Malapascua thresher shark dives was this frame grab from a close overhead pass. I’m blaming distraction by my uncooperative ears for being unable to sort out underwater what was going on.
Since I was barely able to descend and then only with great effort, I sat out the afternoon and early evening mandarin fish dives. In the evening, I used Mike’s portable otoscope to look into my ears and was horrified to realize I had a craggy wall of wax built up in the left. No wonder I couldn’t hear low tones from this side! This had begun after our first dive at Anilao, with a persistent sensation of water in the ear.
Monday, May 5, 2025
Taking another day off diving gave me a chance to finish the home stretch of another excellent novel by a Nigerian writer I love, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a recent release, Dream Count. It takes place during the pandemic and traces the interwoven lives of three Nigerian friends and a Guinean housekeeper. The housekeeper is assaulted in a hotel room by a VIP, a plot device based on DSK, the former head of the IMF, who was embroiled in an assault charge brought in 2011 by a housekeeper entering his suite at the Sofitel Hotel.
After lunch, I finally ventured beyond the hotel, walking down the beach and a little inland, to enjoy an excellent massage at the hotel’s sister property, Buena Vida Spa.
I was making daily use of Mike’s portable otoscope as I monitored the appearance of my ears. On the left, after multiple applications of a 6.5% carbamide peroxide solution Mike brought in his kit to excavate the wax build-up, I eventually was able to see the tympanic membrane, which didn’t look bad. The right side, which had been so adamantly opposed to my diving, appeared bulgy and injected. Sigh….
Wednesday, May 7, 2025
The group headed out for a single thresher shark dive in the morning, followed by a reef dive. I held off going to give my ears the best possible chance of recovery. Even though I assiduously avoid the sun during the day and so essentially never lay out on the beach, I had no trouble filling my days off from diving, reading, writing (laying the groundwork to try to catch up on blogposts from trips past!) and processing some blackwater images from Anilao. The shaded and elevated dining room was the usual hangout for me and my laptop, alternating with stints in the room and on our beachfront patio. There was a near-constant parade of pedestrians along the beach in front of our room. The ones I felt sorry for were the workers transporting suitcases through the sand in large wheelbarrows, presumably taking them from hotels along the strip to the ferry and vice versa.
I also flew my drone a few times, but was frustrated by learning I was still geo-fenced, unable to fly more than a few hundred feet away, almost useless. I tried to sign in, but was repeatedly thwarted by the languid Wifi connection of the hotel, which waxed and waned in fits and spurts.
The view from Ocean Vida on Malapascua Island, Philippines: sea, sky, clouds, boats and off-shore islands.
Thursday, May 8, 2025
I finally ventured back into the water today, after laying off for days and maxing out on medicines, including nasal and systemic anti-histamines, Sudafed and finishing a course of Cipro. My dusky-appearing right ear tympanic membrane appeared improved by otoscope.
At Martin’s encouragement, we left even earlier, aiming to be the first boat on site, at 4:30 am! Thankfully, my descent, although slow, was pain-free.
It was barely light when we arrived around 5:30 am at Kimud Schoal-I had to use an ISO of 3200 (and later do noise reduction) to pull this out!
The threshers were present and circling regularly. What a relief! Video is the best way to appreciate the languid grace with which they circle the site.
A thresher shark soars overhead at Kimud Shoal, Malapascua, Philippines.
I had been concerned if I rushed my return to the water, I might endanger the following week’s diving as well.
Although it isn’t known for sure why the threshers now favor Kimud Shoal, both sites are cleaning stations, where wrasses (small fish surrounding the shark) await thresher shark customers in need of parasite picking and grooming. The pearlescent quality of the thresher shark’s skin is stunningly beautiful.
In the afternoon, I ventured back to the spa for rejuvenation in the form of a relaxing “Himalayan Breath” scrub. While looking for the money exchanger in town, I could hear cries of a crowd I couldn’t quite see, concealed in a field between alleyways and suspected I was “missing” a cockfight.
The dining room orchestrated a blow-out Filipino tapas send-off for our final meal, which was the culinary highlight of our stay at Ocean Vida. We were in for another long travel day the following day, heading to Bohol, for a stay at Amun Ini, on the northern end of the island in the Anda region.
Group photo, with Sea Explorers dive guide Martin (left) and dive program manager Dor (right). In between, Kim, Steve, Laura, Greg, Mike, Sarah, Dan, me, and Sandy.
Beach scene, Malapascua Island; next stop: Bohol.
Lynn had planned this final stay to celebrate her upcoming birthday and it would prove to be an exceptional place for us to celebrate. A tentative plan for a return is already forming in my mind…we pre-paid for a 10-dive package. Since I only was able to do 4 dives, Sea Explorers gave me a credit for 6 dives, which is good for 3 years. Seems a perfect excuse for a return…! Next, stop…Amun Ini, Anda, Bohol!
-Marie