Enroute Biri | The Brave may not Live Forever

I started to shiver even before it started to rain, like I was reacting to a catastrophe that has yet to happen. I scotched to the center of our boat, to the person closest to me, and slowly wore my life vest, prompted partly by the worsening weather, but mostly to add more insulation to my trembling insides. Little did I know, things were about to get worse. A LOT WORSE.

While shredding freshly grilled fish with out bare hands, and sipping warm Tinola soup on plastic cups, on a drizzling Monday morning along the shores of Subic beach, we were faced by a crucial dilemma – HOW TO GO TO BIRI.

The safest way directed us to go back to Matnog Port, catch the next RoRo (Passenger Ferry) to Allen, Northern Samar, ride a jeepney to Lavezares Port, and charter another fishing boat that would take us to Biri Island,  which in totality would take 4-5 hours, or even more depending on the schedule of RoRo trips.

But moments from departing Subic, to supposedly go back to Matnog Port, the once troubled sky on Biri’s direction became calm, and almost sunny. With our boatmen’s (bangkeros) assessment taken into consideration, Jason, Rome and I made a very bold decision, which was to forego with the RoRo option, and use our current boat, a big fishing boat,  to sail straight to Biri, which may only cost us 2 hours, but may posses the dangers accompanied on sea voyages, especially on unfavourable weather, or at the very least induce hours of cardiac assault to our companions who may not be used to tumultuous waves smashing their vessels. We were brave, and we were young (mostly). So we pierced through the borders of the Pacific, with a lingering fear on the back of our temples.

The first hour of our voyage was still considered on the normal scale of sea travels, where big waves would pop up every now and then, but nothing came close to make anyone worry. When we got near to Allen (Northern Samar), I foolishly thought that the worse part was over, we had crossed over to the Visayas after all, and when the bangkeros pointed to silhouettes representing Biri, it  was almost funny that we even considered choosing the longer route just an hour ago.

As we got closer to the Islands, which was now slowly being covered by a thickening haze, I felt the shiver on my chest, which was unusual for I don’t normally get cold that easily. I immediately blamed the alcohol we consumed the past couple of nights, compounded by fatigue and a severe lack of sleep. As it turns out, I had more things to worry about.

On our right, covering the mainland of Norther Samar, was a brewing thunderstorm fast approaching our direction. The winds got a lot colder and a lot stronger, provoking the bangkeros to bark cautious instructions for the rest of us to strap on our life vests, hold on to something, and prohibited anyone from standing up or moving around. With one fell swoop, the heavy rain smothered us instantly, spreading my tremors to evolve into a group manifestation rather than an isolated case. The waves got a lot worse, as we were rolling through what seemed like an oceanic terrain. Some of the bangkeros are quickly moving from either side of the ship to prevent it from tipping over.

My aptitude for Bicolano-Bisaya dialect has cursed me even more, as  I was the only one who fully comprehend the discussions (and the hint of panic) between our seasoned bangkeros. Two of them were already arguing weather to go east or west, for the thunderstorm has obstructed any visual direction we can use. The tidal orientation they solely relied on suddenly changed that they totally lost their bearings.

We were gravely LOST, facing the pacific, stuck in a thunderstorm, with zero visibility that the swelling waves surrounding our vessels were all we could see. And as if we don’t have enough problems to juggle, one of the bangkeros raised another concern – that we might RUN OUT OF FUEL SOON….

The Last photo i found before entering the storm.

Who would have thought that in the middle of an INTER TROPICAL CONVERGENCE ZONE, the Google map GPS on our mobile phones still worked properly! It took me a while to be convinced that it was indeed working, until several members of our group turned on their GPS, and showed similar readings. Not only were we heading the wrong direction, but we were pursuing the exact opposite, that the relentless barrage of tidal forces has somewhat shifted our course an entire 180 degrees.

Even as the bangkeros swiftly maneuvered our boat to get us back on the right track, we were still being hounded by gargantuan waves wrecking havoc on anything that floats its way. Only when the nearby islands re-emerged from the horizon that I was somewhat relieved, for the feeling of floating in the middle of nowhere was suddenly lifted. Within half an hour, we were able to dock at the Piers of Biri Island, and were collectively anxious to step on solid stable ground.

The Port of Biri.

I am far from being religious, with my church habits reduced to attending weddings and Christmas or holy week observances. But on that brief, but seemingly eternal moment while we were for sure LOST in the chaos of the Pacific, for the first time in a very long time, I suddenly felt scared for my life.

Whether we really were in grave danger, or my shivering symptoms heightened the experience that could have turned it into something worse than it actually was, it really didn’t matter. At that short pause in time, I was submerged on a vivid euphoric state, with my senses swimming in  adrenaline, fear and a desire to survive.

That all the travels I’ve endured, even with the months I spent alone in the perils of Cordilleran mountains, it would be there in the middle of the sea, like a sick joke since I grew up on a coastal town, that I entertained the idea where Death would finally greet me, like an old friend patiently waiting.

But a greater fear surfaced within my consciousness, a despair more potent than Death – the fear for OBLIVION. As I was shivering in that boat, I asked myself, "Have I done enough good in my life for people to remember me?"

For the first time in a very long time, when islands were no longer in sight, I felt GOD.