Fuga Island: The Unfathomable Sitio Mudok

Excitement has filled me two months ago when I checked the Philippine Map and learn Geography. So, that is Fuga Island. And I heard that boats come from Claveria. That will be simple and easy.

It was not easy at all. That time when I wanted to go, no boats would sail. I wondered. The sky was clear, the sun had been up for days. People I ask, ask me back – “what will you do there?” “who are you?” “who do you know?” “ where do you live?” “where is your house?” "who are your parents?" "what is your surname?"  Yes, interrogated. I have only been asked the question “why I travel solo” most of the time. This time, it was an interview.

I was brought to Sitio Mudok, as it is where the people I am supposed to “know” live. Good thing that some old folks recognize the names I mentioned, as the people I know. Dropped names like a bomb, so that I do not get questioned of my purpose. I wanted to do that thing I love most, give.

The boat men would immediately see dollars when they see someone like me, who they think is not really from this area. I had to try my best to speak the dialect and be credible enough to prove that I live here. Not good enough. I even had to mention names of family friends who are prominent. And how about that name that happened to be mentioned by my father when I was younger? Who happens to be the owner of the island?  I do not know. And should I mention that my aunt had been there, as they are friends with people who own it? Oh I must be wrong. But I am sure of that. I am not bragging. I simply want to go and give. They do not trust me, I surmised.

However, the old ladies believed that I knew those people who live in Fuga Island. So I felt secured. Secured that they will tell me where to find these people. The boatmen just left me on the shores of Mudok. I am fortunate that the old ladies happened to be related to the people I am supposed to know.

I found the family I was looking for. They fed me lunch, their own produce of mongo beans and red rice. They immediately told me that I should have brought water. When I showed them the 1 liter bottle of water, the mother told me, when you go to the house of the old folks, ask for coconut. That served as my water the entire time.

I was ready to hit the grass. They told me I need to ride, horse-back. I pretended I knew. It was my first time. It was easy. And I love the feeling of real horseback ride along the plains. My mobile phone sounded off a message alert. This was the only place where the network signals from Calayan Island can be received.

My horse, was eating grass all the time. But I managed. I tell you what, this is where I felt the best feeling of being free. Up on the hills, a view of ocean with two other islands, the blue sky, the clouds. Glorious! I want to stop writing all these, at this point. Hahaha.

Those sharp thorny leaves of the plant that fills the hill, this they use for banig (mat)-making,  had created slices on my legs. Who cares? My eyes were glued to where I was going.  

As it looked endless. I was breathless in excitement. I just see the sky from where I was.

Can I just stop writing it now? Savored it much in my heart that I couldn’t express all of it. And this is just the first day.

When the chasms come into sight, I said, “This look like in Calayan Island.” That is what I thought. But these unfathomable gorges are majestic.  When you gaze down, you can see underwater geologic formations. This piece of the ocean is unscathed. The boats do not attempt. The beauty of the reefs is perfidious as the waves are unsafe.

My companion told me that I can actually go downwards thru the rocks and stay on that flat base of the reef. That flat base is deceitful, as the waves go instantly to the ocean like a waterfall. And how do you think I can go up after? With a daring soul, I still felt apprehension. Oh no way. No, thanks.  That could have been really exciting. It was getting dark, and if ever I get enthralled down there, I knew I would insist on staying longer. So it was safer that I did not go.

I counted four. Four clefts in these vast hills of Fuga Island. But I was just looking closely. When I gazed my eyes to the rest of the horizon, there were some more to explore. I was told there was more.  More chasms. Wow! But the night sky has started to conquer.

My two companions, both younger that I am,  and I had to get our horses that we hid in the bushes. 

And rode back to the village. The moon was rising. And this was the weekend of the start of the supermoon.

We couldn’t find the path in this land jam-packed with cogon grass. And my horse was taking chances on the cogon grasses as it walked slowly. It was still hungry. I, too, should have already been full. With the sights captured. But I was so much hungry-ier. For I know, the next day will offer me much more quest.

I was smiling all thru out that short trip back to the village. While looking at the moon. Just letting the horse navigate.

My day of being mesmerized ended with a long table dinner with the family. A native chicken was cooked for tinola, coconut crabs taken from the mountains, and some fresh fish, all served with their own produce of red rice. And I had to drink all the coconut water that I can.

 I slept in that bench outside of their simple home.  Exposed. With only the supermoon in the sky.