Coron – Day 3: The Japanese Wrecks
CORON
Day 3: The Japanese Wrecks
October 12, 2024
PART I
The third day in Coron promised something I had long been waiting for: diving. With the Philippines being one of Southeast Asia’s most renowned diving destinations, needless to say, I couldn’t wait to get myself underwater.
In planning this trip, i.e. having ChatGPT take the lead, I wanted to make sure of one thing: that it wouldn’t be all about diving, like Indonesia had been the previous year. Though I had had the time of my life, I still felt as if Indonesia was, as of yet, uncharted territory, and, as such, I wanted this trip to be a good mix of both land and sea. In hindsight, it turned out to be a routine of beach and island-hopping and diving, so not much land was explored per se. But hey, when in the Philippines…
Anyways, so yeah, diving. Together with Katy, a cool chick from Taiwan, and Roy, a divemaster from Coron, we’d be doing a couple of wreck dives and a coral garden. We ended up at the same marina, where another bangka was waiting for us, ready to take us on our next adventure. From there, we headed south and then west for about an hour or so, the islands looking completely different from the ones to the east that I had visited the day before. Instead, these were shrouded in tropical forests, with only a few of them having exposed limestone cliffs.
The Gap Year Question
Ahh, to be on a boat out in the open sea, waiting to jump in for a dive again. I could just close my eyes and feel as if I were back on the Miss Tamara in Utila, with the guys going on about whatever as we headed from one dive site to another.
It was right there at that moment that it came to me: would that be my life from now on? Always comparing my present to that one year of travelling? As that thought echoed in my head, it sounded to me as if I had peaked, as if, from thereon, I’d never see more beautiful things or feel such happiness again, as if I’d just do my best to relive those past moments. Was I stuck? You see, that year, to me, was a year of pure, unadulterated adventure and freedom. I did whatever I felt like doing, experienced more things than I had ever experienced, saw more places than I had ever seen and felt happier than I had ever been. No wonder it would have such a strong influence on my life. Hell, I wanted it to. But, in so doing, I might’ve locked myself up in yet another trap.
Had I, though? I spent the better part of the hour it took us to get to the dive site immersed in thought, going over this new existential question. Was I stuck or not? The more I thought about it, the more stupid the question sounded. I was happy and free. I was still happy and free. So what if I compared experiences to ones I had already lived through? Acknowledging the past doesn’t take anything away from the present. If anything, I think, it adds value to it and serves to keep such treasured memories alive. I could’ve just closed my eyes and appreciated the warmth of the sun and the smell of the sea air, felt the happiness and freedom that came along with it, and left it at that. Instead, I thought back to my memories in Utila, which somehow bolstered everything I was feeling.
Be that as it may, I also look forward to experiencing stuff with no precedent, things that I have no previous experiences to compare to. I guess that’s the point of moving on and going on with your life: to make new memories and experience new things. And of those, I have way too many to look forward to. To see the cherry blossoms in Japan, the aurora borealis in Norway and the tulips in the Netherlands. To ski all over the Alps, surf Australian waves and trek the Pacific Crest Trail. To milk a cow, learn to play the guitar and ride a rollercoaster.
On the same note, one’s future aspirations shouldn’t get in the way of the present. I probably shouldn’t be working my weary bones into ashes in order to pay for a holiday that would have me milking a cow in a cherry blossom field under the northern lights. So, I guess what I’m trying to say, in no easy-to-follow terms, is that in acknowledging the past and the future, one should also keep their focus on the present.
How Sweet Life Is
It was precisely while pondering my existentialism that that I found a flow of words coming to mind as I sat on that bangka:
“How sweet every breath is,
Like honey it flows,
Like a single chirp of a violin,
Like a tender, loving touch,
Or the way a mother carries her baby,
When life is free of worries.
To feel the breeze on your skin,
To smell the fresh, salty air,
To hear the rolling of the waves,
To taste the essence of the sea,
To set your eyes on such incredible views,
Colouring your life in wonderful hues.
Oh, how sweet life is,
When nature is around us.
How sweet life is,
Away from it all.
How sweet life is.”
PART II
Akitsushima Wreck
Our first destination was the Akitsushima Wreck, a large Japanese seaplane tender that was attacked by American aircraft in 1944, heavily damaged and sunk in Coron Bay.
The beauty now lies on the sandy bottom on her port side, at a depth of around 35 to 38 metres. Despite the briefing and Roy showing us a map of the wreck, I gotta admit that I had no idea what was going on down there, with the orientation of the wreck completely eluding me. I did spot the large crane used to hoist the seaplane and an anti-aircraft gun on the outside prior to entering the wreck, at which point all I could notice was a series of corridors leading from one debris-filled chamber to the next, the walls overgrown with clams and schools of squirrelfish and other small fish hovering everywhere.
I could’ve potentially made note of more things. However, with Roy being our divemaster, it was kinda hard to do so. As much as I prefer attentive divemasters over laissez-faire ones, this guy did kinda go overboard with his role. He kept turning around to check if we were still behind him and to ask us how much air we had left every couple of minutes, instructing us to stay close to each other and on the same level whenever we deviated by a single metre.
Each time I’d spot something cool and stop for a second to take a photo, I’d hear him banging on his tank furiously, trying to get my attention so we could move on.
Okikawa Maru Wreck
The next wreck was the Okikawa Maru, a 160-metre-long civilian tanker and one of the largest wrecks in Coron Bay. In 1944, it was hit during an American air raid, leading to its sinking, and it now lies on the seafloor at around 26 metres.
Once again, I found myself blindly following Roy, not knowing where we were going or what was right in front of me. This time round, it was mostly cause the visibility was less than a metre. With other divers silting up the ship’s innards, I’d point the torch ahead of me and all I could see was clouds of dust. Some larger chambers inside the wreck offered a bit of relief, for example one where there were some turtle skeleton bones lying in the centre, and one with giant oil tanks where we were actually allowed to touch the oil. The rest was just a blur.
I was quite relaxed about it until I saw Roy signal another divemaster that he didn’t quite know where the exit was. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how many times I’ve said to myself, “Oh well, this must be the end!” with a smile on my face and still do these things.
This is a title
The Coral Garden
Luckily enough, cause I assume it was just a matter of luck, we did find the exit and we did proceed with the third dive, this time round to a coral garden. A nice, uncomplicated, plain and smooth dive – one that I badly needed after the previous wreck. Pun intended.
We went down and swam along a coral wall and, while I can’t say I saw something new, I can definitely say it was a pleasant one. From anemonefish to crocodilefish, from anthias to damselfish, sea cucumbers, starfish and all kinds of corals, it was so, so good to be back in tropical waters. Oh, and let’s not forget about the macros, with Willan’s chromodoris and Pseudoceros liparus being the highlights of the dive.