In 1988, I embarked on my first journey to Luzon with my late brother and his family. His wife, a native Ilocana from Ilagan Isabela, accompanied us. I arrived in San Mariano, Isabela, with the intention of finding a job.
With my brother's assistance, I applied for a job in his company and was hired as a land surveyor's aide in a logging company. This was before the total log ban had been imposed.
My adventure began when I was assigned, along with five companions, to conduct sample plot surveys across a 24,000-hectare land concession owned by a Taiwanese logging company. The team consisted of three Visayan-speaking lads from Iligan City, Lanao Del Norte, an Ilocano peasant from San Mariano, Isabela, and a lone Ilocano land surveyor named Mang Victor, who hailed from the Ilocos Region but now resided in Mati, Davao Oriental, after marrying a Visayan woman.
We started our journey by hiking to the jump-off point at the top ridge of the Sierra Madre mountains, known as the mountain divide. From there, we could see the Pinacanuan River flowing on the west side and the Palanan River on the east side.
Standing at the highest peak, we gazed down upon the plain below, where the colors revealed the nature of the terrain: brown for land, green for vegetation, and a thin, silver, snake-like line representing the Pinacanuan River. In the far west, barely visible, were the Cordillera Mountains of Mountain Province.
The area was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. The towering peaks to the east and south resembled giant waves, while the entire mountain range was covered in dense forests.
We descended on the eastern side of the mountain, following the Palanan waterfalls as they cascaded down low cliffs. After a perilous hour-long descent, we reached the river below.
Continuing our journey, we headed northeast along the river. We passed through an Aeta village and decided to spend the night there, dining and sleeping under the open skies with the villagers.
The next day, we reached Dipagsanjan, a part of Palanan, Isabela, where we engaged in sample plotting and photographing the areas.
On the third day, we stopped at a small house occupied by an Ifugao native, his wife, and their son. They owned and cultivated the land in that area. The Ifugao native warmly welcomed us, offering us sweet crops and cooking wild boar's meat over a fire. We stayed with them for a day, indulging in activities like swimming and underwater fishing in the river teeming with different species of fish.
On the fifth day, we pressed on with our arduous journey until we reached Divinisa Point, facing the Pacific Ocean.
Our Ilocano companion, who had spent his entire life in the interior province of Isabela and had never seen the beach or ocean before, was astounded. He exclaimed, "Oh! What a big river...!" One of my Visayan companions corrected him, saying, "This is not a river; we're facing the Pacific Ocean."
Excitedly, we ran toward the crashing waves and immersed ourselves in the water, frolicking like children. However, our Ilocano companion hesitated, fearing the surf. We invited him to join us, but he declined, remarking, "Ayokong maligo, nanghahabol ang ilog...!" We burst into laughter at his naivety.
The place boasted narrow white sand
beaches, resembling a paradise on earth. We explored the area and discovered that it was uninhabited.
The sea was dotted with lagoons where, during low tide, various species of fish and crustaceans, such as rock lobsters, were easily trapped in the crevices underwater, making for a plentiful catch.
After five days of much-needed rest and recreation, our office manager arrived with a pump boat to fetch us. We sailed via Madella, Quirino province, back to San Mariano, Isabela.
As we left the area, my mind recorded the memories like a silent video tape, preserving the past and the unforgettable experiences we had.
We passed by the rugged cliffs that formed the border between the mountains and the sea. These cliffs had been shaped by the relentless pounding of thunderous waves, and throughout the year, powerful typhoons caused rocks to erode, forming crevices and caves.
I will cherish the memories of that place until my last days. It was a journey filled with wonder, adventure, and natural beauty that will forever remain etched in my heart.
