King of Cuyo

The second typhoon costs us a whole week. Sunday evening, the Milagrosa finally leaves Iloilo. Everyone is overjoyed. Together with a Cuyo policeman from our last visit, we empty a few Red Horses on deck. He confirms all my prejudices about Cuyo. Up to six police officers have up to six incidents per 24-hour shift. To. To.

The red horses are the fuel for my master’s examination in seaworthiness. During the night, the wind picks up to 35 knots. With it comes the heaviest swell of my five crossings of the notorious Sulu Sea. The stable lateral position becomes very unstable. Sleeping is only possible – and not very much – on my back. I hum Tom Petty on the way down, Joe Cocker on the way up. Breakers up to five metres high fly over the bow and shake the hull of the 40-metre Milagrosa J5.

When the highest waves come through the leaking porthole in the upper deck early in the morning, I get seriously scared for the first time in a long time while travelling. Then, after 15.5 hours of travelling, we finally arrive in Cuyo. 12 hours of it were a permanent rollercoaster. Small, colourful kites dance all over the turquoise blue shallow water behind the jetty of Cuyo. The sight justifies any fear.

Immediately after checking in at Nikki’s guesthouse, I set off with kiter Buddy King George from Liverpool to nearby Capusan Beach. The tide is out, the water is running out and the other 10 kiters are already on their lunch break. We have the whole turquoise shallow water bay behind the sandbank and another two square kilometres of shallow water up to the reef completely to ourselves. Space. Infinite expanses….

The wind is blowing at a nice 27 to 32 knots. My beloved 10 Core XR4 is pretty much at its limit. No matter. Everything is fine. The water splashes and the wind roars. I become infinitely calm in all the flat water heat. Home at last. The magic lasts a full five days non-stop. Every single day, the Amihan laminar delivers a full 18 to 28 knots of basic wind. On the strong days, the 10 Core XR4 feels good. On the others, the 13 Ozone Edge.

The master of the Cuyo Watersports Association Jing says there were some big airs. It didn’t feel like that at all. But the Woo gives me between 6 and 8 metres of height every day and something in the middle of the Big Air Asia leaderboard. I feel like the king of Cuyo. Especially because King George manages to do with his turmeric tip what no doctor has managed to do in 20 years. A spice reduces the chronic kite knee pain so successfully that I can still get down every flight of stairs after several violent impacts in my favourite jump direction. Thank you, King George!

It’s not just the kiting. The people of Cuyo are a very special breed. Filipinos are generally the friendliest people in the world. In Cuyo, they are the friendliest in the Philippines. They all give you an all-round good feeling. Police officer Nick brings you a delicious chicken from his barbecue station as a thank you for delivering a gold chain he found on his last visit. He insists on it. Together with the huge portion of kinilaw from my favourite chef Haydees from the nearby market, Cuyo’s hospitality tears me apart.

The children play on the beach for the nightly sky porn. There are still few travellers and expats on Cuyo. Everyone is very cosy. Advent is celebrated in front of the old church with Abba, fireworks and lots of LED Christmas palms. Half the island comes together for up to an hour’s walk.

Even when Filipinos sing in front of 5,000 people: it’s always weird. But instead of laughing like before, this time I have other thoughts. We Europeans and especially Bavarians would never sing or dance if it wasn’t perfect. If you could lose face. It’s better to remain silent than to enjoy life and risk a laugh. Filipinos, on the other hand, just do it. Laugh. Live. Completely off key and off beat, in a marvellous imperfection. That no longer seems funny to me. It is simply awe-inspiring.

The peace on this remote island is all-encompassing. After five out of five days of good strong winds, I make my way to the last three kitespots of the trip. The ferry is, of course, three quarters of a day late again. But there are worse places to get stuck. King George stays behind. From the ferry, I watch the sun rise over Cuyo and am already looking forward to my next visit.

Cuyo Kitespot Pro

• The second largest flat water spot in the Philippines. Ultra-flat water in the bay. Only Cagbalete is even bigger and more awesome.
• Also very shallow outside on 2km² up to the reef
• no rocks or dangers in the bay, from 300 metres out you have to be a little careful
• Space without end. Maximum 20 kiters in high season
• Reliable winds between 15 and 25 knots from December to February
• Nice usable reef wave 1 km upwind
• Peaceful safe spot. Kites can be left unattended on the beach for a few hours without any problem.
• Cuyo Watersports Association offers equipment hire, courses and repairs
• Kiters drifting out of the bay automatically land on the nearest island. Rescue with local fishermen costs almost nothing.
• Several islands in the area offer further kite spots and can be reached cheaply with private bankas.
• Cheap, clean accommodation Nikkis Pension directly on the beach 300 metres from the kite spot

Cuyo Kitespot Contra

• Outside the bay it is difficult to kite safely at low tide or after a long walk
• The reef is then hardly / only very dangerous to cross
• Supposedly there is a new environmental fee – at 300 PHP it even tops Boracay. Just stay out of the way of the heavy diabetes man. He is the only one who collects.
• All three ferries (Milagrosa, Montenegro, Blessed Sea Journey) are quite old and chronically delayed
• Travelling is only possible via Puerto Princesa and Iloilo (2-3 times a week) and Coron (once a week)
• The crossing through the Sulu Sea can be very rough with swells of up to five metres, especially from Puerto Princesa
• hardly any nightlife and only small shops
• few restaurants