Tubbataha-Crown Jewel of Philippine Diving
Added to website: 30 November 2004
I landed in the still sleeping city of Puerto Princesa on an early Sunday morning, the jump off point for the live aboard ships that operate in Tubbataha during the Philippine summer months of March to early June.
Palawan, the province it is located in, is called the last frontier, due to the still pristine state of its terrestrial and underwater resources. Rugged bluish silhouettes of a mountain range provided a mysterious background to the ship I was transferred to as it anchored in the channel that was just off the jetty.
As the day unfolded, the pier took on the busy atmosphere of a tropical port. I enjoyed watching people and cargo move in and out, with decibel levels rising and falling with the arrival and departure of other vessels. Soon enough, it was our turn to leave and I contained my excitement as our ship pulled away from its moorings and headed out to the open sea for the overnight sail to our first dive destination.
In the middle of no-where
I climbed up to the shaded deck with a steaming mug of milky tea just as the pink light of the dawn came up over a mirror calm sea. I enjoyed the early morning quiet, appreciating an almost uninterrupted 360 view of an empty ocean.
Just off the port bow I spied a small island with a lighthouse and a rusty wreck, the Delsan –which sat, mostly high and dry, at the edge of a shallow reef.
Breakfast was immediately consumed and our guides used the wreck as our entry point. Excited divers quickly finned towards the drop off marked by healthy coral heads overrun by anthias and parrotfish. Clusters of anemones and clownfish likewise littered the bottom between healthy patches of leather coral.
The parade of pelagics began as we descended along an immense wall that stretched endlessly in front of us.
Turtles and white tip sharks launched themselves off its crevices and ledges and we came across several large schools of jacks that whirl pooled into the depths. Like a waterfall of molten silver, they cascaded endlessly over our wide eyed expressions.
Curtains of chevron barracuda hung seemingly motionless off into the blue only to turn away simultaneously whenever we attempted to approach.
Maroon and yellow dendronepthya corals decorated several overhangs and I signaled my buddy Marie Cecile to move in for several mouth watering shots. It was also nesting season for the attractive but aggressive peach faced triggerfishes and when I saw a group of them zealously eyeing us as they guarded their eggs on the reef top, I chose to retreat and hovered just off the edge.
Our afternoon dives took us to the Southern Point of the reef. The walls reminded me of the Maldives-with vertiginous sides zigzagged with crevices filled with the white hanging soft corals so common in the Felidhoo Atoll.
Against this achingly beautiful backdrop we drifted into 5 separate encounters with eagle rays –our re-breathers allowing us to get up close and personal with these magnificently spotted creatures of the sea. I envied the graceful movements of their diamond studded wings.
We gassed off amongst the shallow corals and found the area known as the shark airport. White Tips lay on the sandy slopes like parked jets and as divers approached, they would take off, circle, and land once more !
Saving the best for last.
Our ship again moved during the night and the sunrise found us buoyed near Bird Island, which is the northern-most reef in the Sanctuary. Divers returning from Tubbataha trips usually wax poetic over these area’s underwater seascapes and its inhabitants and I was about to find out why.
Backrolling into a sandy slope, the current picked up as we neared the edge and I allowed it to gently pull me along the sharp drop. I zoomed pass bunches of purple soft coral outcrops interspersed with sea fans and sea whips.
Suddenly, 2 sleek, grey reef sharks startled me just a as a group of man sized tunas headed my way against the current. They were so big and so close to the bubble less divers that I could see their teeth in menacing grins. Like sleek torpedoes, the sun’s rays streaming through the gin clear waters glinted off bulky flanks of shiny chrome.
Just as I was about to raise my camera, a handsome, meter long Napoleon Wrasse loomed up to my left ! I howled into my regulator in protest at this sensory overload and managed to collect my scattered wits before finally triggering a few shots at the jade and emerald beauty.
A small of school of attractive blue finned trevally,, chased me and my buddy into the shallows. No one minded the white tips now. After an endless procession, they reminded me of napping house cats who would grouchily move out of the way and then return, resentful of uninvited intrusion by people in webbed feet!
The second dive produced a rerun of the first but with a welcome added attraction of a manta ray gliding past as I was taking souvenir photos of the guests with a cooperative lionfish during our safety stop. Later on, as I viewed the digital photos of one of the other divers, I was amazed at the number of shots of a manta that he was printing out. Apparently the ray that had gone past us was headed to its cleaning station on the reef top and stuck around for a good 20 minutes while the lucky, once-a-year diver nonchalantly took photos!
That’s why they call it Bird Island
Since I had a mid-day flight to catch the next day, I skipped the afternoon dive to comply with my no-fly time. Instead, I joined a group of photographers and motored over to Bird Island. As we approached the shallow waters, my boat companions oohed and aahed at the large number of turtles that scurried out of our way. The tender also pointed out the silhouettes of a large stingray and a black tip shark moving gracefully over the white sandy bottom.
The boat man called for us to ready our cameras for as soon as we got to the closest allowed distance to the islet, hundreds of birds took off in a blurred flurry of wings and squawks. Those of us with powerful zoom lenses could see the rows upon rows of spotted eggs lying in the sand. It wasn’t long before our feathered friends returned and guarded their eggs once more. Definitely a side trip worth giving up a dive for!
Nature’s Protection
One of my bird watching companions turned out to be Yasmin Arquiza, who co-authored the book Tales of Tubbataha. From her I learned about the importance of this 33,200 hectare Reef complex we had visited over the last 4 days.
Sitting smack dab in the middle of the Sulu Sea, scientists believe that it is the nursery for fish and coral spawn that populates the Sulu-Sulawesi Triangle—an area that not only covers the most important and productive fishing grounds of the Philippines but extends as far south as Malaysia and Indonesia. So important is this submerged structure in the balance of the underwater eco system that UNESCO declared it a world heritage site as far back as 1993. In 1998, Former Philippine President Fidel Ramos, a keen diver himself, created Task Force Tubbataha and a station equipped with radar and manned by zealous rangers was established.
Several factors are responsible for the almost virgin conditions of this underwater jewel. The convergence of currents constantly brings in a barrage of the nutrients and clean water a healthy reef and its inhabitants demand. Being the largest and almost lone structure in the middle of a vast expanse of ocean guarantees a healthy influx of pelagic visitors looking for a meal and other services an underwater community provides.
Access is only through Live-aboard Dive Ships and although the Park is open year round, the weather allows a small window-from late March to early June- for divers to visit. The strong winds and rough swells the rest of the year deters both authorized and un-authorized incursions into the park and permits the reef to settle back into its natural state of regeneration.
By Yvette Lee
Asian Diver Magazine 2004
