Murphys Law @ Tablas

The ferry to Tablas arrives in Odiongan just an hour and a half late after sunset. A trike takes us to the Hiland Resort. We are the only guests in a gigantic beach front AC room right on the kite spot.

At Kitesurf-Mindoro, you don’t notice anything about Philippine prices. Boracay is always almost twice as expensive as the rest of the Philippines. Here on Tablas we are the only pale faces apart from a few kiting expats. We are far away from tourism and right in the centre of the real Philippines. The prices here are also real. Food now costs almost as much as at home – even though the exchange rate has shifted significantly in our favour in recent months. Travelling cheaply used to be good here.

On the first morning after our arrival, the wind is a bit lusty. Sebastian immediately goes out with 12m² in quite high, wide waves. I pump up the Edge 13, which has just been repaired on Boracay. Murphy’s Law says “pfffffffffff”. No sooner has the first strut connector been repaired than the second one breaks here on Tablas. I could puke. Ozone: FUCK YOU! Four damages in four years that are not my fault is definitely too much.

I’m already thinking about travelling back to Boracay. There are spare parts there. But the next ferry isn’t due for another six days – and I hate travelling backwards. My Filipino friend Cocoy drops by with his colourful group of cheerful expats. The joy of seeing each other again is great. They all go kitesurfing. I’m wingless today and soon to be a beach boy drunk on rum. The evening is long and bloody.

The next day, a good wind rattles the room door early in the morning. Sebastian doesn’t cope well with the nasty one metre high waves and strong winds that vary between 18 and 30 knots. His kite crashes into the waves, inverts during the relaunch and serves up a nice line salad after the self-rescue. My ride on the 10 runs better, but even the otherwise ultra-stable XR stalls several times today. My knee is screaming over every wave again. I’ve quickly had enough. Not our spot.

Cocoy and his mates are hitting big jumps without any respect. I just stand there and feel as flightless as a kiwi. One of my friends is even a kiwi. He flies better than me. In the afternoon, Cocoy mutates into McGyver again. Unfortunately, he no longer has any suitable spare parts – all his Ozone kites have had exactly the same thing happen to them as mine. All that remains is improvisation. Cocoy pulls a second Onepump rubber hose over the broken connector and fixes it at the bottom with a cable tie. I cover the whole thing with tape. The strut now holds enough air for a short ride when inflated individually. Should be enough, but I’m still pretty frustrated.

We hire two motorbikes and drive a good hour and a half with two boards and three kites to South Tablas. In the end, the “highway” is simply a small dirt track through the jungle. We reach Diamond Beach through the loneliest region of Tablas. You can hardly get further away from everything. A Canadian kiter warmly welcomes us to her spot.

The wind is gusting at 20 to 30 knots. The expected flat water is nowhere to be seen, just a few rocks to the left and right and numerous buoys with poles in the centre. A labyrinth of seaweed farms completes a spot that offers plenty of variety thanks to beautiful reef waves from two directions – but also forgives few mistakes. We go full throttle for a few hours until we reach almost seven metres, then make our way back exhausted.

We need fresh cash for the last island on the journey. No bank in Odiongan wants to dispense more than 10,000 pesos. To avoid high fees, I change my last hundred euros – and pay even more due to the poor exchange rate. The last meeting with the whole kite gang from Tablas degenerates into four pubs until after three in the morning. We haven’t seen each other for a long time. Many thanks for everything, Cocoy, Mikey, Brent, Jens and Theresa!