Nothing is on time in the Philippines. Not even tropical storms of the second-highest category. In the evening, I sit frustrated on the beach with a large glass of rum and look out at the raging sea. It’s pitch dark and the tropical storm with winds of well over 30 knots has finally arrived. The ice cubes are melting in my glass.
The night is hard. The storm gets even stronger. It tears violently at the anchoring of the roof of my hut. The power goes out. Leaves, twigs and coconuts hail down on the roof. “Fear Island” still haunts my mind. This would be the perfect weather for a little mass murder. In the morning, contrary to expectations, I’m still alive thanks to the torch, but I’ve hardly slept at all.
Down to the beach. The sea is boiling. But the wind has now shifted offshore. I’d have to go to the east side of Siquijor to ride it. The temptation is not particularly great with fluctuations from 5 to 40 knots every second. No lifeboats here. Thick rocks in the water on the east side. Hardly any beach, more mangrove groves.
I get a motorbike and look for a suitable spot. The tropical storm has done a great job on the east side of Siquijor. Entire villages are on their feet to make the roads passable again. Away from the villages, you can barely see the tarmac under the trees, branches and leaves. There are a few beaches where you could start. But forever away from the shot, and I would be completely alone. I’d rather kite in the future than just today.
Once around Siquijor is quicker than I thought. Up into the mountains. The tropical storm is pushing the clouds low, they’re only hanging at 500 metres. It’s still quite choppy up here. Another 1000 children greeting us. Everything is clean and clear. Petrol is only available from bottles, in the flavours “red” and “green”.
The tropical storm has switched off the power supply throughout Siquijor. At one point I almost drive into a telephone line that is now hanging at head height. The power doesn’t come back until the evening. With a bit of luck, the ferries will be running again tomorrow and then we’ll be on our way.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.