Camiguin Diaries: Crossing the Bay

Balingoan Port

I'm on a decaying lantsa and the mild-mannered sea cradles the hull in a sluggish rhythm. Left right left right it goes, a timid movement that lulled many (of the few) passengers to sleep. The ship's name is Dona Pepita and must have have been initially made for deep-sea fishing. But the Dona is no longer in her prime: turbines have dwindled and propellers gave in to rust. So it has been transformed into a sea shuttle to ferry curious tourists and local workers.

I am holding my usual red notebook, and for the first time in months, I'm actually writing something beyond scripts. A poem.

Its probably because I have been sleeping for hours: on the plane to Laguindingan Airport, on the car to Agora, on the long bus trip to Balingoan Port, and now, on the mid-sized provincial ship to the famed island of Camiguin. Or maybe, its the spirit of the island itself, manifesting its allure along the bay, inspiring writers and artists who journey in its waters.

I wrote three poems in the sleepy salty silence. Two are full-length and will probably be chopped off once I start editing them. The first burst was a haiku; the recipient of my Orpheus wanderings. Here's what I wrote:

CROSSING THE BAY
Singing blue waves slap crunching machines
They pale against your voice
In my head
- Bohol Bay, 2014

This vacation is inspiring, at the very least. - 3/14/2014