Critter Party in the Philippines

Divers Log #146
24 April 2016
Dauin, Island of Negros, Philippines

The creature was ablaze. Waves of violet, cream and ebony fired along its armored back as it lumbered across the ocean floor like a miniature triceratops. Three pairs of arms stretched and swayed from its mantle in hypnotic motion. We hovered nearby in practiced stillness, anchored only by the tip of a muck stick and the lip of a fin. The sound of our slow steady exhalations bubbled rhythmically upward. Indifferent to our presence, it extended an extraordinarily long, skinny tongue with the controlled skill of a patient hunter. It paused, and with the quickest twitch, snatched a microscopic snack out of the surrounding water.

I looked at my guide and scuba instructor Tim in delighted surprise. He nodded as if to say, “Look who’s come to your party!”

Flamboyant cuttlefish!!!

As we continued watching, an errant crab startled our little cuttlefish, and in a flash, its brilliant undulations disappeared. For a moment it stood in a cloak of ghostly white…

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Island Dreaming in Wintertime: Revisiting Malapascua

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Dark rum daiquiri at Dutch Kills, NYC

It is winter in New York City. Oh, I know, that flirty temptress Spring lifted her skirts a bit a few days ago, but the City was very recently besieged by benumbing temperatures and snow and is once again shivering under a rainy grey pall. I am, however, finding ways to cope, like happy hour, because no matter the weather, you can always find a good cocktail in this great sodden metropolis. Just the other day, I sat at LIC-favorite Dutch Kills, enjoying daiquiri-induced day dreams about fun times on hot, sun-soaked islands… like Malapascua in the Philippines. Continue reading

Boholed over by Cuteness: A Tarsier Adventure

The driver looked back at me through the small mirror and asked, “How long you been here?”

On the road with motorcycle taxi
Motorbike adventure on Bohol

“Two months in Asia, one month in the Philippines!” I shouted.

“You’re so dark you could be Filipino!” he exclaimed, laughing.

It was true. I hadn’t been that golden since I was eight and spent every day of summer by the lake. I secretly loved my tan… growing up in the 70s will do that to you. I still remember my aunt Char, who was the coolest adult I knew, lying for hours on the tar roof of her apartment building covered in baby oil with a sheet of aluminum foil under her face.  Continue reading