May 31 - Despite the stated 12:30 departure, we are advised to be at the ferry terminal four hours early. That seems excessive. Regardless, that is what we do, getting a tuk-tuk to the terminal at 08:30. Driving rain when we arrive, the long walk from the gate to the terminal building, done with rain jackets and umbrellas, still soaks everything we are wearing.
The good thing about today is that the Coron Town ferry terminal is new and clean. It also has air conditioning units that work well for drying off backpacks, as well as charging ports, and two mini-marts. I start work, since there is no fear of running out of battery.
/w=3840,quality=90,fit=scale-down)
At 9:30 a ticket collector comes by to give me the bad news that the ferry had a tough time coming our way today and will be eight hours late. This means that we will arrive in Puerto Princesa at about 08:00 tomorrow. I cancel our room in PP for tonight (I only made the booking yesterday) and we confront the prospect of going straight from this ferry to a bus to El Nido tomorrow.
I decide not to dwell on this exhausting and constant shifting of schedules. Back to the computer, get a lot done. We sit in this departure lounge all day, as the rain pelts the windows and winds howl. At about 15:00 the storm passes and there is nothing more than drizzle until evening.
/w=3840,quality=90,fit=scale-down)
Things pick up at about 19:30, when people begin to make a line with their baggage. Then two lines form. It takes a bit to realize that only women are standing around one line, men the other. Turns out this is the security protocol for our ferry. Pat downs ensue, and not one but two sniffer dogs are trotted by all the baggage. The inspector even tests one of the dogs out by dropping a small ‘seed’ bag in the lineup. Sure enough, when the dog gets there, he/she sits down. So I guess the dogs know their jobs.
/w=3840,quality=90,fit=scale-down)
All the security takes a while, we finally get out the door to the dock at 20:30. The boat is huge, easily the size of the ferry we took from Helsinki to Tallinn. Going on board is like entering some strange, surreal world. There is a large stage and dining hall, flashy lights, and uniformed staff offering a constant barrage of greetings. Our room is filled with 24 bunk beds and a TV (to my annoyance) on a remote feed that can’t be turned off.
/w=3840,quality=90,fit=scale-down)
Leave the port at about 21:30. Hard to tell when we are out at sea on a boat this size. Then the live music and the bar starts up, the songs are all Western popular tunes, sung at best so-so, at worst intolerably. The volume is high and clearly audible in our room. Fortunately, all the other bunks are already occupied, meaning that no one in our cabin is going to come stumbling in late (there is beer for sale: we still aren’t used to that part of leaving the Muslim world). There isn't much chance of rest between the singing and the TV chatter.
/w=3840,quality=90,fit=scale-down)
Odette and I go briefly up to the observation deck. The air is warm and humid, with almost a glimpse of the moon. Looks like a nice evening compared to most of the day. My fears of a storm on the Sulu Sea during the night are taken down a notch.
The live music shuts down at midnight, but the karaoke machine chugs on for an hour more. The TV turns off programming, but this is replaced by a test signal and a loud humming sound. No one else in the cabin gets up to do anything about it, so I try without success. I fantasize about using a wire clipper or baseball bat to turn the thing off for good. Instead, I go hunt down a ferry worker and explain the problem (the other cabins around us have their TV’s turned completely off). It takes a few workers, but they finally figure it out and there is peace.
