Text by Jeremy Cuff/www.ja-universe.com
Photography by Jeremy & Amanda Cuff/www.ja-universe.com
Over the years, the majority of my underwater photography trips have run reasonably smoothly and without significant hitches, but this trip turned out to be rather different. Instead of great weather, lots of photography and good health, I encountered poor weather, very difficult diving and photography conditions and an illness in the form of a sinus infection. Here’s an account of how it went, what I saw, and how I was still able to salvage enough from it in order to publish a magazine feature in the UK…
As a regular dive traveller, I’ve always been very aware that spending hours confined on planes with lots of people, along with the sleep deprivation and resulting jetlag makes you more susceptible to picking up some unwanted affliction, but that’s the risk that we all have to run.
On the long outward journey from the UK to the Philippines I found myself in the “nightmare scenario” of sitting next to a man who spent most of the flight wheezing, sneezing, coughing and spluttering, as I willed myself “not to catch what he’s caught”. Whether this individual was the source of my impending problem I’ll never know, but I’ve a strong suspicion that he was. But anyway, let’s get back to the diving…
Whale sharks are many a diver and underwater photographer’s holy grail. They can be seen in many places in the tropics, but reliable encounters are rare and hard to come by if you randomly visit somewhere warm. So, anyone determined to see and photograph these mysterious giants must “do their homework” in order to have the best chance of the encounter they’re looking for.
The seasonal whale shark spectacles at Ningaloo Reef in western Australia and parts of the Maldives are now firmly lodged in the diving consciousness and feature on many divers “must do” lists. Also, Thailand, Galapagos and Utila in the Caribbean are well known, but are there any other areas to consider such as the Philippines? After all, it’s an area of wide-ranging diving experiences and huge marine biodiversity.
Well, one such “whale shark mecca” has indeed emerged over recent years in the Philippines, which has started to make its presence known on the global diving map over the last decade or so. In doing so, it has attracted increasing numbers of foreign visitors to these annual gatherings. It’s centred around the town of Donsol in the Sorsogon region, in eastern Luzon.
It was here, and nearby Ticao Island, which is located across the Ticao Pass between Luzon and Masbate, that I would base myself for a week of exploration, diving and underwater photography with a view to publishing a feature in the UK. My itinerary consisted of two whale shark interaction trips at Donsol (which is snorkelling only) either side of a five day dive trip to the Ticao Island Resort.
Donsol
Sorsogon’s regional hub of Legaspi lies beneath the smouldering menace of Mt. Mayon, a classic volcano if ever there was one, but I couldn’t see much of it as I stepped off the plane from Manila, ready for the final an hour and a half minibus ride to Donsol. Unlike Manila, which basked in hazy sunshine, the Sorsogon area was experiencing a period of poor weather and I wouldn’t get to see any sunshine for the entire visit. It was windy, cool by Filipino standards, overcast and often raining (sometimes heavily).
I’d been particularly looking forward to this trip as it was a kind of “off the map” type project that appealed to me; on one hand it was a “known” area for its seasonal whale shark gatherings between December and March, but at the same time I’d seen very little written about it in the diving press. It most certainly hadn’t been “documented to death”.
The only feature I’d read prior to departure was a remarkable story from March 2009 that I read here on Dive Photo Guide about a baby whale shark that was caught near Donsol, which provided evidence that this area was not just a place for feeding, but a place for giving birth and perhaps even mating. The baby shark was a mere 15 inches long and looked like a tiny version of the giant fish that it might one day become. It was perhaps the smallest whale shark on record, certainly in the Philippines, and possibly in the world!
In recognition of Donsol’s importance to whale sharks, the WWF have been working in the area since 1998, assisting in the development of sustainable and responsible ecotourism and coastal management. Ongoing work includes working with the local government to prevent illegal fishing practices, creating guidelines for whale shark interactions and implementing long term monitoring studies such as satellite tagging and building photo-identification databases to establish whale shark migratory routes, and to estimate the numbers that visit Donsol annually. In 2004, Time magazine cited Donsol as the best animal encounter destination in Asia.
The local tourism posters show whale sharks (locally known as the “butanding”) swimming in clear sunlit waters, which are doubtless the conditions that most visitors would probably experience, but when I arrived in Donsol, the water was anything but clear and inviting. In fact, the visibility had been destroyed due to the water run off and the wind kicking up the sand. Instead of the classic turquoise, the water was green and turbid. Though the tropics often experience periods of poor weather, this was considered “out of the ordinary” for the time of year.
Within two hours of arriving on the plane from Manila, I was setting up my camera in the tiny dive shop and kitting up to head out into the bay to swim with and photograph the world’s biggest fish. The whale sharks sightings are indeed reliable, and quite an industry seems to have grown up around their appearances, with many boats trawling the bay looking out for these leviathans.
Within ten minutes we were onto a shark not far from the shore, but if your boat spots a whale shark, the chances are you won’t have it to yourself for long, as other boats magically descend on the area. It can be a bit of a scrum, so be prepared for getting more than the occasional fin in your face (or camera)! This isn’t ideal for anyone who is unfit as it will likely involve several breathtaking swims, and clambering on and off boats. The onus is most definitely on the photographer to look after their camera, which could easily be knocked into the water by an excited whale shark snorkeller.
On the first interaction, the visibility was at its worst, possibly three meters maximum and probably less. This made it impossible to see the shark approach, and I wasn’t able to see anything until it was literally passing underneath me. You couldn’t see the whole animal and it reminded me of some dives in the UK when the visibility is bad, where instead of suddenly finding yourself face to face with a pier leg or a diver that suddenly appeared out of the gloom, it’s a 25 foot plus whale shark!
Nonetheless, on my first interaction we got four whale sharks and on the second visit (after my Ticao Island visit), we got two sharks. For the second interaction, the visibility was improved, allowing snorkellers to just about see the whole animal, and we were able to remain with one massive specimen for quite a long period.
Photographically, the lens of choice could only be a fish eye (a 10.5mm Nikon in my case) but it was very difficult thanks to the conditions and I was unable to get anything on the first interaction that I could possibly be pleased with, so I’d have to hope that it would be better a few days later. I selected higher ISO’s of 400 and 640 due to the dark water, and set the camera to shutter priority.
Six days later, on the second interaction after my Ticao Island interlude, I was able to benefit from the slightly improved conditions to capture I couple of images that I thought best represented the conditions I experienced, but in a way that was acceptable to publish. For these, I used similar settings to those described above, and basically persevered among countless snorkellers and difficult conditions until the whale shark moved on.
Ticao Island
The weather at Ticao Island continued in the same vein as I arrived amid heavy rain to a welcome of umbrellas and a mad dash for shelter. Again, it wasn’t the conditions I’d hoped for as I inspected the near zero visibility in front of the resort, and more worryingly, I noticed that I felt “woolly headed”. I convinced myself there was no immediate panic, as I could still clear my ears.
The Manta Bowl was my first Ticao Island diving experience and it turned out to be not for the faint hearted thanks to the strong currents that can commonly be found there. It’s a sizeable area that’s commonly visited by pelagics looking for a cleaning station, consisting of a raised reef in the middle of the Ticao Pass that’s around 13 metres at the shallowest point which gradually slopes away to deeper water.
It was raining heavily and very dark when we arrived there, and you could see from a couple of marker buoys being dragged under that the current was strong. We’d been issued with reef hooks in anticipation of this, with currents on our three dives ranging from moderate and increasing to very strong, with the last dive being a real “ripper”. This required a constant vigilance among the divers in order to avoid getting separated from each other and swept away. We used reef hooks at intervals for respite and to look for mantas. I was also having trouble with my ears on the descents as the head cold I’d first noticed the previous day had worsened.
On the very first dive, we encountered a single manta, which was encouraging, but not on the following two dives. Other sightings included a school of jacks, a cuttlefish and a couple of white tip reef sharks. I was told that whale sharks are occasionally seen here (the best time is April and May) and that other sharks such as hammerheads and even threshers are not unknown, though certainly not reliable. It wasn’t easy diving, and certainly not one for the novices. Perhaps the conditions are sometimes easier out there.
From a photographer’s standpoint, the Manta Bowl had subjects that you would wish to photograph, if only you could get close enough to do so. The lone manta looked as though it might grant us a close pass but it frustratingly veered away not to return, so I was only able to get one image of it in the middle distance. I took very few photographs on these dives thanks to the strong currents, hanging on with reef hooks, and the inability to get close to anything. It wasn’t the conditions for “photo-diving”.
On the second day, we visited an area known as San Miguel located at the northern tip of Ticao Island, more than an hour by boat from the resort. It’s characterised by rocky islands typical of the Philippines and other areas of the Far East.
There are several dive sites in this area, mostly offering slopes and walls adorned with impressive soft corals. The area is reputedly good for nudibranchs and other “macro” reef life, but I wasn’t able to complete the day.
My cold had mutated quickly into sinus a infection, so after attempting two dives where I couldn’t descend more than a few metres, I decided not to punish my ears any more for fear of making things worse. I ensured that I shot a few macro images on the first dive but couldn’t really concentrate as I tried and failed to clear my blocked ears. My diving plans had come to premature end.
As a photographer and photojournalist, the trip was of course not what I’d hoped for. But despite that, I still returned with some images and experiences that I could report on and pull together into a coherent feature, including some pictures taken on the days that I had to sit out the diving. In fact, one of my “murky water” whale shark images has even made it into my 2012 Diving Dreams calendar.
In summary, you might think that I’d recommend fellow dive travellers to stay away based on my experience, but that definitely isn’t the case. This is an interesting area to explore, no doubt about it. By all means give it a go; you’d be very unlucky if so many things conspired against you as they did with me. Don’t forget that in 2004, Time magazine cited Donsol as the best animal encounter destination in Asia.
Finally, I want to stress that my experiences in no way reflect the people at Donsol and Ticao Island who could do little more than do their best in the conditions that prevailed. Perhaps this feature shows that you can still get something rewarding and worthwhile from even the most difficult of trips.
The author would be keen to see any posts from other divers and photographers who have visited this area.