An oft-repeated adage is the need not to lose sight of the forest for the trees (a different take at “Don’t lose sight of the big picture”) – that is, that if we focus too much on a single tree (or some trees), we may forget that the tree (or trees) we admire is (are) but one (or some) of the many in that forest. This is sound advice, definitely – after all, why over-emphasize on minute details when the big prize is yet to be achieved?

However, when traveling to Donsol in Sorsogon, in search of the famed butanding (whale sharks), I’d say: Forget the forest; it’s the trees that should define the experience. Because while swimming with the gentle giants of the seas is, definitely, a magical experience, if it is the end-all of a trip to the place, that trip could end up… not exactly happy.

As our whale-less wandering at Donsol, Sorsogon proved.

WHERE TO?

It was approximately a year after booking a flight to Legazpi City in Albay when my friend (Rye Mendoza) reminded me of our pending trip – that’s what happens with too-early bookings: either you’d forget about it (as I almost did this time around), or end up choosing to forget about it (as I repeatedly did in past reservations). It was, for him, something new, since he has never been to the place in the past; and while I have, repeatedly, visited the place, the enthusiasm was… contagious. And so we headed out sans any plans at all what to do when we get there.

Legazpi is, by itself, a place full of mini- and not-so-mini wonders – heck, the view of the MAJESTIC Mayon Volcano alone makes the trip worth it! From afar, the volcano looks like it was pasted (or painted, for the more poetic) against the blue sky, it makes one believe in the Divine – that only some intelligent hand could design something so artsy, so beauteous in our midst. And – should you be so lucky if you landed with clear skies – it’s a sight to behold as soon as you land, too.

And then there’s the Bicolano food. I have long been a fan of how Bicolanos whip up what they whip up – Bicol Express, ginataang balat ng santol (santol peeling with coconut milk), balat ng pili (pili peeling) turned into burger patties… The gustatory possibilities here are endless. Interestingly, they even use the same as toppings on… a pan pizza! That too spicy for you? Cleanse the palate with freshly-baked malunggay pan de sal – available from numerous bakeries off the main streets.

But back on track now… to Albay’s neighboring province to the south, Sorsogon, where Donsol is.

Donsol is approximately an hour away from Legazpi City, with the roads not offering much as far as scenery is concerned but, well, provincial living. We took a van (over P60, one-way) that was supposed to take us to Donsol, but – as luck had it – the van stalled, so we transferred to the only jeepney passing, which happened to be full; so we sat atop the jeepney. Take in views of the rice paddies, people chatting while sitting ON the highway, chickens crossing the road… For Manileños, you have to go as far as the outskirts of Cavite to see such scenes, so the experience was refreshing.

Donsol is, in one word, sleepy. Not much happens here, with just about everything revolving around the butanding. There are abundant accommodations to choose from – homestays are common in the town proper, while closer to the wharf where the boats that head out to spot the butanding are more expensive resorts. As is usual in small towns, though, everything’s accessible by motorcycle or tricycle.

WHAT FISH?

And so we gravitated towards the Donsol Tourism Office (DTO), where we registered (P100 is the fee for locals; P300 for visitors, irrespective of nationality) and then were made to attend a brief orientation session on how to deal with the butanding.

Worth remembering is this: per boat that leaves the wharf to view the butanding requires seven tourists; meaning, in our case, since there were just two of us, it’s time to be friendly with other tourists who may invite you to join them (or you can form groups with) so you cut the costs of the boat rental (approximately P3,500). This we did with a German, a Frenchman and a Swiss.

Another thing worth remembering is this: If at all you are planning to see the butanding, bring your own swimming/snorkeling equipment. Why? Because outside the DTO are stalls “requiring” tourists to rent masks, snorkels and fins for P300 (entire set). Nature-tripping was, for us at that point, getting expensive.

But as soon as you leave dry land (with a “butanding interaction officer”, spotters and the boat’s crew), you are just about ready to forgive the too-apparent monetizing of the entire experience.

Alas, once in the water, all the locals stress that there’s no guarantee of seeing any butanding. Various reasons are offered: “Hapon na kasi (It’s already late)”; “Hindi nila season ngayon (It’s off-season)”; “Ilang araw na walang nakita (It’s been days since any was spotted)”; and so on. And all the while, I was just thinking: “If not seeing was known before we boarded the boat, why were we still made to pay to look for what the locals acknowledge we will not be seeing?”. Big-time opportunism, in a gist.

Worse, there were too many boats roaming the waters, so that if a butanding is seen at all, it would have been swamped – completely contrary to the lessons supposed to be learned from DTO’s instructional video.

An hour passed. Then two. Then three… The sun was starting to turn orange. And so we headed back to the shore. The gentle giants remained elusive.

We were told to return earlier the next day,  for who knows what tomorrow is supposed to bring.

Flummoxed – not just annoyed – we toured the town, and once again encountered what these parts of the Philippines have to offer. Ginataang pating (shark with coconut milk – and, yes, we saw the irony in it being served in the turo-turo right outside the DTO). Ginataang dahon ng kamoteng kahoy  (Cassava leaves with coconut milk). And there’s this dish made of small fishes cooked with greenies and lots and lots of green and red chilis – somewhat sour, yet tantalizingly good as it makes the mouth water and crave for more. This is Bicol food as can only be imagined…

Nights are quiet. You can spend it stuck in your room (reading a book, Wi-Fi-ing, or whatever), drink with buddies (which we did with the German), or firefly-watching (by the river in a place between the town proper and the DTO, almost magical as you watch the fireflies seemingly dance in the night as they make low-hanging trees glow). But these are refreshing, for me a hark back to my rural days…

Armed with wishes/prayers/hope, the next day started with another demand for money – tourists need to pay the P3,500 boat fee again. The equipment you can “borrow” from whichever stall you rented them out, because – after all – they were not put to any use the day before.

Alas, the day ended (again) sans any butanding sighting…

WONDROUS EXPERIENCE

I have swum with the butanding (which can grow over 15 meters long) before – and, yes, I can say it’s a MAGICAL experience. I still remember being in the murky water, not knowing where to look – and then, seemingly from nowhere, you get a glimpse of this HUGE creature nearing you, and then gliding by you. Breathtaking? Yes. Dramatic? Yes. Exhilarating? Yes. It will, truly, make you feel like that proverbial “nothing but a speck of matter floating in space”. I hope that even Donsol’s (over)commercialization of the experience won’t ruin it (that much).

Back in Legazpi City, Bicol’s wonders were experienced again – a closer view of Mayon Volcano, discovering the antiquated churches, meeting the shy (tentatively friendly) locals, and yes, more Bicolano food. The latter – i.e. food – is, dare I say, something the really defines this place (they even have siling ice cream, or ice cream with chili!).

And these are the “trees” that you are bound to miss if the sole focus is to see the “forest” that is the butanding that may not always show itself (note: head there from February through April, the peak season). Because there are times when the details are more precious than the big picture.