Palawan featured in san francisco article . where to stay , what to do,what to see

Palawan, The Philippines -- The turquoise waters around this island
are frothing with so many rare and exotic fish that 20 species haven't
even been named yet.

So little explored is its mountainous and jungly interior that
primitive tribes still live in isolation, hunting with poison-dart
blowguns and wearing only loincloths.

But what intrigued me most about Palawan were rumors of a mysterious
white squirrel, a freakish species apparently unknown to the outside
world. To see one, I was told, I'd have to go find someone named
Merlin.

The wildlife, the terrain and the remoteness all suggested to me that
this corner of The Philippines may be the latest frontier in the world
of eco-tourism.

Which is not to say that American eco-tourists are at this moment
beating a path to its carbon-offsetted doorstep. The country has a
reputation for not only danger but damage, with an ecosystem ravaged
by deforestation and reefs destroyed by dynamite. Americans in search
of tropical Asian beaches usually carve a wide path around the country
to reach the shores of Bali or Thailand.

My adventure began when I flew southwest from Manila to Palawan, the
"last frontier" of the Philippines. If any place in the Philippines
could become a famous eco-tourism destination, it is Palawan: While
the island is 270 miles long by only 25 miles wide, its damp and
tangled interior is literally a blank spot on current topographical
maps.

The 1,500 small islands dotting the waters around Palawan offer
immense opportunities for hidden getaways - a benefit that Second
Lieutenant Hiroo Onada of the Imperial Japanese Army took advantage
of, hiding out from the end of World War II until 1974.

(Palawan has a sadder connection with the war: As Allied troops
advanced on the island, Japanese soldiers massacred nearly 150
American prisoners of war here.)

Mango daiquiris
I started my trip conservatively and comfortably, checking into a high-
end, all-inclusive resort off the coast of El Nido, in northern
Palawan.

When they say all-inclusive, they mean it: El Nido Resorts owns two
resorts, four islands, the airline you use to get there, the airport
and the boats to get you between them all. But be sure to read the
fine print when you book your package trip, or you might be the only
one on the island stuck paying (a lot) for your meals.

The El Nido Resort on Miniloc Island lines the beach and waters of a
harbor surrounded by jagged limestone cliffs and a steep thick jungle
leading into mid-island wilderness. It looks like the entrance to King
Kong's island in the movie. But instead of raging natives and man-
eating monsters, I faced cabana-side mango daiquiri service and tame
schools of fish at their "house reef." Obese jackfish dined on
croissants left over from the resort's breakfast buffet, and
expectantly followed snorkelers for more handouts.

Nearby Lagen Island Resort boasts a large swimming pool, spa and
cottages standing on stilts above the water, a secluded sanctuary for
their visitors.

Massive buffets with local fruit and fish sunk me into a daylong
torpor. I lazed by the pool watching flocks of weird double-beaked
Palawan hornbill birds squawk their noisy way around the jungle above
me.

The resorts' activities coordinators occasionally jostled me awake to
participate in guided adventures, including fishing, scuba and
kayaking trips to nearby lagoons. During my hike up a mountain trail
on a nearby island, a couple curious monkeys shadowed our group,
perhaps looking for a dinner roll, or maybe a digital camera to add to
their collection.

The El Nido Resorts (and other similar ones popping up through the
area) typify the new spirit of eco-tourism in the Philippines. Owned
by the ex-president of the World Wildlife Fund and members of
Conservation International, El Nido Resorts truly seems committed to
what they call their "triple bottom line" of profit, environmental
development and community service.

The resorts treat their own waste water, donate money to create
artificial reefs and even get guests into the act in beach cleanup
days and their annual "scubasura" program. Combining the Tagalog word
for trash (basura) with scuba, this event offers volunteers free
equipment and guides to go out to troubled reefs and collect
underwater trash deposits.

Into town
One day I left the secluded resorts for the busy port town of El Nido,
a collection of one- to two-story shacks, bungalows and cement
structures all of which seemed either to be halfway through the
process of being built or destroyed. For some, it was hard to
determine which direction they were going.

After the peace of the resorts, the town buzzed with energy - moto-
trike taxis zoomed the streets, fishermen shouted on the narrow beach
and everywhere mobs of kids ran past me shouting, "Hello! Hello! What
is your name?" Outside of the few street-side apartments with TV,
children jostled for a view of the latest soap opera. The average age
of townspeople appeared to be about 7.

Eco-tourism in El Nido town can be as simple as renting a kayak and
paddling out to sea. I entered the El Nido Art Cafe and paid the
equivalent of seven dollars for a half-day kayak rental.

After only 20 minutes of paddling across Bacuit Bay, I reached the
nearest island, with a single fisherman's hut the only sign of
habitation. Had I continued seaward, I could have visited dozens of
deserted islands, each with a postcard-worthy vista of palm trees and
untracked white sands. Visit similar beaches in Bali or Thailand, and
you'll more likely be greeted by a time-share salesman than a
fisherman.

At the island I dragged my kayak ashore and hopped into the water for
some prime snorkeling. Only 25 feet offshore lay a reef around which
teemed thousands of fish. El Nido's waters are home to over 680
identified species of fish, including the 20 recently discovered ones
still waiting for biologists to give them a name.

Several resident dive shops in town make it cheap and easy to book
your own adventure to the spectacular reefs. And sometimes, I'll now
admit, it is nice to have a guide. During my snorkeling trip I came
across an undulating four-foot long creature of some sort. It was
either the world's most poisonous sea snake or a regular moray eel, I
thought, desperately trying to recall the faded photos on the dive
shop wall as I retreated to the beach in turbo-flipper-mode.

Day of the dolphins
I journeyed across Palawan toward the city of Taytay to explore
Malampaya Sound, home of the last 50 Irrawaddy river dolphins in the
Philippines. I had also heard rumors of the mysterious white squirrel
in the area.

My bumpy, five-hour, 75-mile bus ride to Taytay had stops to allow
passengers to offload rice bags; throw a couple of bound, squealing
pigs on the roof; pass notes to local friends; and have a friendly
team-building exercise of bus repair.

World Wildlife Fund volunteer Mavic Matillano has spent the last five
years tracking the dolphins of Malampaya Sound to the point where she
knows each individual by its fins or flippers.

I didn't need to ask her how the effort was going: She maintained the
same grim seriousness normally seen on the faces of mine workers
excavating a cave-in. While the fishermen no longer intentionally hunt
the animals, accidental catches continue to reduce the dolphin
population faster than it can reproduce.

We left before sunrise, to catch a ride to the brackish bay in which
the dolphins live.

Matillano views Philippine ecological development in baby steps:
"We're doing good," she said, glancing at our boatman. "Today there's
one less man fishing these waters."

Matillano and WWF hope by expanding eco-tourism to this area they can
help create an alternate source of income for locals currently
dependent on fishing.

We were fortunate that morning: As we motored out in the placid waters
of the bay, several pods of dolphins broke the surface, the spray of
the water glittering like shards of glass in the early morning sun.

We approached the center of the bay, startling a giant sea eagle that
launched itself skyward from the bamboo fence of a fish enclosure. A
dozen of the snub-nosed gray dolphins jumped on both sides of our
small boat, disappearing with a flip of the tail to surface far out in
the bay. With their button eyes and seemingly smiling faces, the
dolphins looked like they were having fun. But we broke off our
pursuit so we wouldn't "stress them out," as Matillano put it.

Merlin and the squirrel
For my final eco-tourism adventure, I went in search of Merlin. Taytay
city worker Esther Dacuan insisted upon it. "You see, Merlin has the
white squirrel," she said to me. "It is a new squirrel the outside
world has never seen." It was like an Arthurian quest. What would this
magical squirrel be capable of?

As part of her work for the city of Taytay, Dacuan has mounted a one-
woman crusade to educate the community about environmental issues. She
has an unceasingly upbeat and determined attitude, making her seem
like a cheerful bulldozer with a perm.

Dacuan's pet project is the mysterious squirrel found on an island
east of Taytay. So when she discovered I was researching an article
about the area, she invited herself and me to the mayor's house for
lunch, coerced him to share his car and driver, and commandeered his
power boat for a trip to Squirrel Island.

We donned burqa-like rain ponchos to ride through the showers and
choppy waters en route to the small island. The village there
consisted of a collection of wood huts on stilts above the water, set
there more for the convenience of transport and trash disposal than
for the view, like at Miniloc Resort. They were the sort of huts under
which you don't want to drive a boat: Each hut's "toilet" emptied
directly into the water below.

Strong rain kept us from going into the forest in search of the
squirrels, but I was able to see one in a cage in the home of the
equally mysterious Merlin, who turned out to be a local woman.

The squirrel had a feathery furred tail and a small mouse-like head,
but was otherwise similar in size and twitchy manner to the typical
U.S. backyard creature. We tossed in a bit of coconut, and the
squirrel tore through the husk like a candy wrapper.

"We're not really sure what it is," Dacuan said, "whether it's a sub-
species, a regional mutation or a whole new type of animal.
Conservation International is sending out some scientists to take
blood tests next month."

Villagers had known of these white squirrels for years, but just
figured squirrels were supposed to look this way and never bothered to
tell anyone.

Just as these squirrels are well known to locals but undiscovered by
the outside world, so too are most of the beaches, waters, and
mountain paths I visited in Palawan. With sustainable projects like
those at El Nido Resorts, through individual volunteers like Dacuan or
programs by the World Wildlife Fund, Palawan has the potential to
become an ecotourism destination to rival Thailand or Bali, but in an
environmentally sustainable way.

And we'll even have Merlin and her squirrel to help with this magical
transformation.

If you go
GETTING THERE
Cathay Pacific and Philippine Airlines operate daily nonstop flights
from SFO to Manila. The latter and local carriers fly regularly from
Manila to Palawan. Philippine Airlines' "Swingaround" package tours
are sometimes a good deal, but read the fine print carefully to find
out exactly what is included.

WORD TO THE WISE
At the time of writing, El Nido town has no ATMs, no banks and few
places that will take credit cards. Take enough cash to last your
trip. Prices below are listed in U.S. dollars; the local currency is
the peso, currently about 43 to the dollar.

WHERE TO STAY
At the high end, El Nido Resorts, 011-632-894-5644, www.elnidoresorts.com,
has all-inclusive packages beginning at $270 per person per night. In
the mid-range, Dolarog Resort, run by a grumpy Italian, offers scuba
and other activities; no phone, see www.dolarog.com. About $80 per
person per night, including breakfast and dinner. The Las Cabanas
Resort, run by a Canadian and his Filipina wife and a parrot named
Carrot, has more of a bed-and- breakfast feel. $70 per person per
night, all meals included; no phone, see www.lascabanasresort.com.

WHERE TO EAT
An evening beachfront dinner in El Nido will set you back the
equivalent of $7.50 for a fresh fish spread with drinks. Or you can
walk a couple blocks inland to get chicken adobo for a buck.

WHAT TO D0
Short trips around El Nido's bay (and across Palawan) can be booked in
El Nido at the Art House Cafe, www.elnidoboutiqueandartcafe.com, which
is also a good place to stop for food, music, equipment rentals, and
friendly advice. For hard core eco-tourists, the EcoFirst Adventure
Company, www.ecofirstadventures.com, offers guided 100-mile-long kayak
trips through these islands, complete with support boats and luxury
campsites.

FOR MORE INFORMATION
Philippines Department of Tourism, (415) 956-4060, www.tourism.gov.ph.


Bill Fink last wrote for Travel about cave exploring in California.
His Web site is www.geocities.com/billfink2004. To comment, visit
sfgate.com/ travel and follow the links.

This article appeared on page G - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle

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