Laurent Nevarez and friends head over to the Philippine island of Siargao and discover an untouched paradise of hidden gems with endless rights and lefts in abundance!

Several hundred kilometres south of Taiwan across the South China Sea, the Philippines archipelago is a jigsaw puzzle of charm and beauty, the sheer diversity of landscapes only equalled by the warmth and kindness of the locals. Seduced by the prospect, and in need of getting away from it all, Alexis Deniel and his girlfriend Melanie flew themselves off to the island of Siargao and the countless little islands around it, a voyage into a world rich in colour.

A heavy grey sky and torrential rain greet us as our tiny twin-prop plane makes its bumpy descent towards the tarmac of Siargao airport. After more than a day and a half’s travel and four separate flights to get to this small tropical island lost on the other side of the world! Good things come to those who put the effort in I guess!

With all our bags and boards crammed into a taxi van, we hit the road heading towards to south-east coast of the island. 

Despite the sheeting rain that never lets up for one second, we spend the whole journey staring out of the windows. We're filled with curiosity and amazed at the luxurious tropical vegetation and occasional villages we drive through. Everyone different from every other, our eyes widening with every bend in the road, and all of us eager for more.

The motorbikes with their little roofs and 4 or 5 people crammed onto the saddle, the smiling faces, the kindly expressions and openness. Every element plunges us faster and deeper into exactly the kind of disconnection we needed, one that comes filled with a sense of calm and happiness as we quickly forget how tired we are from the long journey…    

A few minutes after taking possession of our holiday bungalow, we’re renting ourselves some motorbikes (indispensable for getting around the island), and then we’re off for a quick spin to check out, before sunset, an already well-known spot, Cloud 9, a few minutes ride away. The feeling of freedom from two wheels and the spirit of discovery of our new surroundings, push us even deeper into the arms and charms of the island mentality.

After finding the correct path and walking the 150 metres of its famous boardwalk linking the spot to the shore, we start chatting to one of the locals there. The sea is chaotic, and the massive amounts of foam coming off the break on the reef make it impossible to see how the spot is set up.

“How long have the conditions been like that?” asks Alexis, clearly a little concerned! “2 or 3 days now,” says the local, “we caught the tail of a typhoon, but don’t worry, this is definitely the end of it.

Tomorrow morning it’ll all be back to normal. Good surf everywhere, in here or out there!”

We have no idea how reliable the weatherman’s prediction might be, but just in case, we carry on a bit further north to see where all the boats leave from that could take us to some of the other, off-shore spots. We meet a boatman called Glenn who gives us the same forecast, so we agree to come back at sunrise the next day if it turns out to be the case. The sun is going down on Siargao, and the storm is still battering and bothering the palm trees surrounding our bungalow, but we’re trusting in the locals as we slide and slip down into the realms of Morpheus….      

Rock Island

The first birds are only just starting to sing outside but my eyes are already wide open, because of the time difference, and the excitement of our first proper day on Siargao. I open my bedroom door, and there’s Alexis, who’s already been to have a look at the lagoon.  It’s not even 5.30am, still mostly dark, but we can already see that, to our joy, the sky is clear and the wind has completely died during the night: Bingo!

We quickly gather a few essentials, some bottles of water and dry biscuits, strap the boards on the bike racks and go to meet Glenn, who seems as wide awake as we are. “I have to stay here, but my uncle will take you on the boat to Rock Island, it could be pretty good out there this morning!”. His Uncle shows up a few minutes later carrying a jerry can of petrol, invites us to follow him, and off we go, carrying our stuff out into the lagoon to his boat anchored not far off.

Despite the narrow hull and outriggers, we were impressed with how comfortable and stable the boat was, more impressed still by the deafening roar of the two outboard motors that reduced all conversation to hand signs. Our course is set for two small islands that we can just about make out in the distance, and as we leave the comfort of the lagoon and its palm trees, the crystal clear water changes colour from one instant to the next, taking on myriad shades of blue depending on its depth. Still taking all that in, I realise that I’ve actually never seen such intensely rich blue tones anywhere, hard to tear my eyes away from such a bewitching show.   

We’re not far from the first of the small islands, and we can see that there’s a magnificent right hander breaking, then turning 90 degrees along the side of this lump of rock plonked in the middle of nowhere.  The incredibly dense, green vegetation hanging from it gives the spot a unique quality. Uncle cuts the motors and drops anchor. As he takes in the idyllic surroundings, Alexis roughly slaps on some suncream, grabs his paddle and board from the carry net, then launches himself off the bow of the boat. As he paddles out of the channel and onto the break another set rolls across the reef… 

Alexis paddles his way out to the peak, then patiently waits his turn, saying hello to some local surfers, and a group of Spanish paddlers already there. The waves are even more full of surprises than first seemed, appearing and rising quickly, sometimes shooting off sideways, all of which makes the take off quite demanding.   

Five long minutes later Alexis spots a few dark lines coming in from the north and quickly paddles away from the main group, towards the outside. He just about makes it in time for the first wave, massive and incredibly smooth. The take off is almost vertical, but Alexis manages to keep it solid, launching quickly into a bottom turn, then makes a long powerful frontside, foaming carve turn up the first section.

After that, it flattens out but then accelerates hard as the wave rolls around the tip of the island. Alexis goes with every surprise the wave throws up, racking up serial vertical rollers until he rides out 200 metres further on with an ear-to-ear smile splitting his face. After nearly 3 hours non-stop riding we leave Rock Island, pretty dehydrated, starving hungry, a little red from the sun, but unbelievably happy to have got our adventure off to such a fantastic start!  

For the rest of the day, we decide on a little excursion south, exploring a bit more around our village. As the sun is slowly sinking, we follow our noses, turning left and right as the fancy takes us, enjoying the exceptional scenery, the peace and calm all around, and the friendly attitude of all the Filipino’s we encounter. We’re pleased to receive such a friendly welcome, and surprised at the ease of conversation, people are happy to speak to us, and in almost perfect English! Arriving in the village of General Luna, we find the departure point for boats going to Dako Island; we’d already heard there were some great spots there that might be good for our next few days.    

False Start!

“A serious swell has come in during the night, I think it’ll be too big for where we were yesterday,” says Alexis after a few minutes studying the coral reef just below our bungalow. We decide to go and test some of the spots on the south coast, taking the road to the port of General Luna. 30 minutes of boat ride later under a joyful sky, our enthusiasm drops when we arrive in front of a spot full of heavy swell and waves slashing in every direction over the reef.

Seeing and sensing our disappointment, our boatman suggests that we go a little further south to some of the other islands. There we come across an incredible sandbank, whiter than white, in the middle of a lagoon.  We paddle to go and check it out, returning under a menacing sky that we notice is blowing in a huge storm form the north. The weather is obviously still up to its tricks, and as we head off at top speed back to port, a biblical deluge is doing its best to sink the boat.

The rain is blown nearly horizontal, the thunder is as loud as cannon fire, and the sky is as dark as night. Despite the 15 minutes of highly extreme weather we battled through, all 3 of us had a kind of mad grin on our faces as we reached port and realised how insane the conditions were. It seemed like the weather was determined to trip us up, but it was going to have to try much harder than that, we were already dreaming up our plan B.            

Double or Quits

Talking to Glenn the previous evening, we’d understood there was another spot, further away and not a cast iron certainty, but said to be worth trying when there’s a big swell. We only had a rough map and some confused explanations to guide us, but where there’s a will there’s a way, and we he jumped on our motorbikes to go and seek out this mysterious bay.

The kilometres roll by, and every village we pass through and junction we pass by is an opportunity to appreciate the friendliness of the locals, usually manifesting itself with a wave of the hand or a loud “Good morning!” Isolated and lacking in western comforts perhaps, but the villages and villagers exude a joyful spirit. Not paying proper attention, we keep going ‘til we come across a road sign: “I think we’ve come too far “ I say to the other two, looking at the map. “That village we just passed is supposed to be after our turn off.”

After back-tracking a few kilometres, someone points us to a small dirt track to the right, and off we go, rally driving our way up the bumpy, pot-holed track, dodging between rocks and puddles until we reach the village at its dead end. A local fisherman down at the tiny port points us towards a small island off in the distance where there seems to be a decent wave breaking. He agrees to take us out there for a few pesos, and we quickly load our gear into his boat, crossing our fingers that our plan B doesn’t end up as unsuccessful as had plan A. 

The boat’s hull races over the flat calm water, smoothed by a total absence of wind, and the mangrove swamps all around us are a fascinating contrast to all the lagoons along the south-east coast. The wave becomes more visible as we approach, and the ridges of swell coming in are perfectly spaced, rolling right along the reef as regularly as a metronome. “It’s not that big, but it looks perfect!” says Alexis, clearly very happy with the idyllic setting.

Watching some of the locals already there enjoying the waves makes Alexis even more impatient to get out and join them. The regular rhythm of the wave, with no break and no flat sections, is a perfect platform for Alexis to totally exploit every centimetre, linking his moves with style and flow. The Breton boy squeezes every drop of fun from each wave, putting on a top class show.  

Back on dry land, as we unload our gear onto the quayside, we can hear a group of people nearby belting out tunes on their karaoke kit. A string of national and international hits echoes down the street. “It’s Friday, Filipinos love to finish the week round the TV singing few songs, it’s the same everywhere here, don’t be too surprised!”

Road to the North

After a few days on the island, we’ve quickly got into the island way of life. Filling our days (depending on the vagaries of the weather) with long walks, meals of all the local delicacies we can find, exploring the lagoons by SUP, and of course, some excellent sessions at all the local spots. Especially the nice left at Stympies that we’re enjoying more and more.

With the swell steadily dissipating and no wind to speak of, we decide to explore the north shore of the island, which apparently has a beautiful coastline and a stunning waterfall.

We’re back on our bikes and heading up the long east coast road. Every bend in the road leads to yet more incredible scenery, dense palm tree forests studded with houses built on stilts and surrounded by rose shrubs. The smiles and friendly hand-waves we receive are in stark contrast to the uninhabited zones where the dense vegetation rolls endlessly into the distance.

After a brief detour to check out some amazing natural rock-pools carved in the seashore, we ride onwards, eventually stopping at a small village that had aroused our curiosity. A street of wood and corrugated iron shacks runs along the edge of the beach, and as we ride slowly along, we’re suddenly joined by a gang of smiling, shouting kids running alongside.

“What’s your name mister?” they cry in unison. “Big surf!” they continue, turning their attention to Alexis’ SUP. A few of the kids’ parents join us, and when we say that we’re looking for a big waterfall nearby they point us in the direction of a small path disappearing off to the right.

 A few kilometres further on we find a muddy track and can begin to make out the increasingly deafening noise of falling water until we eventually arrive in front of the most stunning scenery we’ve yet encountered. A magnificent thirty-metre waterfall is crashing down through a natural amphitheatre formed by the dense vegetation and big black rocks. Alexis is transfixed by its beauty, parking his bike and quickly unloading his paddle and board to get himself close up to the waterfall.

Drawn towards it as if magnetised, he paddles slowly off towards the cascade in a state of almost religious worship at the magnificence of this unique setting and experience

It’s been a long road to get here, but this moment of intense beauty is a perfect parallel for the entire trip. The amazing sessions, stunning scenery, and smiling friendly faces will be engraved in our memories for all time. We wanted a total escape, and we got it, and we’ll be leaving again enriched by the treasures that this voyage into the unknown, unlike any other, has unearthed for us…

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SALAMAT SIARGAO
By Laurent Nevarez

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