Okay, so the descriptives for the Philippines’ “dry” season and “wet” season should really be “wet” and “wetter”. We still had an unseasonable amount of rain on this trip, even monsoonal at times. However, this did not seem to dampen the warm and welcoming smiles of the Filipinos who assisted us along the way. Those two memories, the rains and the smiles, stand out for me, along with the birds, of course!

As we traveled many miles and visited 6 islands in search of the Philippine endemics, it was clear that the “dry” season was AWOL this year. While the downpours did not succeed in washing out entire days in the field, they certainly made for many damp moments during our visit in February and March.

The local papers talked of La Niña, but whatever the cause, it seems that the Philippines won’t be suffering a water shortage any time soon! The birds, however, must go about their daily business whether rain or shine, and so we too were out in the field, with some stunning results. Ably led by Susan Myers, ours was the first Victor Emanuel Nature Tours (VENT) trip to the Philippines in many years. Susan had of course scouted the trip several times, but it was with a sense of adventure that we all set out in search of shrinking habitat and endangered endemic birds.


Manila


Rizal Park, Manila


Happy as a Water Buffalo in mud!

 The Philippines, with over 7,000 islands in the archipelago, offers metropolitan cities, such as Manila and Cebu city, and rural landscapes, where traditional farming methods and often poor living conditions prevail.

Yet the people we met seemed happy and industrious, and must surely be hard working, as a farming life here involves back-breaking labor in rice fields, often with the help of water buffalo for plowing and hauling. An overwhelmingly Christian country, the only one in Asia, it is peppered with churches, predominantly Catholic and Church of Christ, and schools are thronged with children throughout. Despite the dire news flashed by the media, we saw very few Muslims and never felt any threat. English is taught in the schools and widely spoken fluently, with Tagalog being the commonly spoken native language. Almost all signs are in English, especially the billboards, fast food and small shop signage.

Our first stop was Candaba Marsh, the largest wetland area for waterfowl and only a few hours north of Manila. Here we found the Philippine Duck as well as a rare Schrenck’s Bittern, a marsh bird with a wide range but which had been a no-show on all my previous Asian trips. My attention was caught by two men tromping through the water with battery packs on their backs and long sticks with wires attached, with which they probed and zapped the water around them. They were eelers, as it turned out, and successful too, though this struck me as a rather tricky way to go about catching dinner!


Electrifying eels is one way to catch dinner,
but could be hazardous to your health

Stripe-sided Rhabdornis
(family endemic to the Philippines)


Philippine Serpent Eagle

Our next stop was Subic Bay, once a huge US Navy base housing the US 7th Fleet, and well known to many, including my brother, during the War in Vietnam. The US departed in 1992, and the area has since been named the Subic Freeport Zone, for which special permission must be obtained to enter. It is like crossing to an island, as the only real development thus far involves the commercial activity along the bay and its deep water docks. The inland portion contains some of the most accessible habitat remaining in the Philippines, with abandoned, drive-in military storage bunkers covered by forest and criss-crossed with a deserted network of roads. Thus, our introduction to Philippines birding was relatively easy and rewarding. It was here that we had our first looks at one member of a genus endemic to the Philippines, the Stripe-sided Rhabdornis:

This spectacular Philippine Serpent Eagle was also seen at Subic.

A long, 6 hour drive got us to Banaue (N. Central Luzon) after dark, so we were not able to appreciate the incredible scenery all around us until the following morning. As we drove through the darkness, the creeping dawn slowly revealed scenes such as this rice terrace.

This amazing landscape consists of thousands of mud-walled rice terraces, built by the Ifugao tribe around 2,000 years ago. In addition to being amazingly talented engineers, they were and still are wood-carvers, and the roads here are prominently lined with small shelters displaying life-sized (i.e., one tree trunk at a time – ouch!) sculptures of the Ifugao in native dress, and, ironically, the Philippine Eagle, amongst other subjects.


Banaue Rice Terraces


Banaue Rice Terraces


Metallic-winged Sunbird
(photo by K. Clarke)


Flame-crowned Flowerpecker
(photo by D. Gemmill)


Luna Moth

Our target habitat in this area was Mt. Polis, a cell-tower topped peak for which the access was along an obviously slide-prone dirt track. Much of it is being mined for road-building/maintenance materials, drainage is often a waterfall outflow crossing the surface, and there are small fields under cultivation wherever the terrain is anything slightly less vertical. These plots are rapidly encroaching on the bits of moss-forest which are still visible from the road at the top. It was along this road that we walked and birded, largely in the mist and clouds.

Two tiny but colorful species we found here were the Metallic-winged Sunbird and the Flame-crowned Flowerpecker, both of which gave us excellent looks despite the swirling early morning mists.

A definite hit discovered on Mt. Polis was an apparently recent hatch of 8 or 10 Luna-like moths.

The Jeepneys which hauled us up the long, steep, pot-holed road were the perfect vehicles for the task.

A word about this most uniquely Filipino form of transportation is due here. I had first encountered this eye-catching form of open-air transport in Manila, where the gaudy vehicles seem to compete for passengers with elaborate paint and decoration schemes. In the cities, this is the primary form of public transportation and comprises much of the confusing, choking traffic. The route for each is displayed on a small sign in the front window, and frequent stops are made to take on and discharge passengers. Between deciphering the signs and the stop-and-start progress, I’m sure it would take non-natives quite some time to get to a desired destination!

In the smaller towns and villages, however, the “tuk-tuk”, a motorbike with a covered sidecar, as well as pedaled tricycles, fill the main transport slot.


Our jeepney transportation on Mt. Polis


Manila jeepney


Snazzy Tuk-tuk


Tuk-tuks choke village 		After a few days in Banaue we had a very long ride back to Manila, which resulted in an average speed for our Luzon drives of 23.5mph. Each city, small town and village involved stop-and-go traffic, and the hilly roads in between were slow going behind large trucks and required the dodging of many potholes.

We enjoyed the comforts of the Pan Pacific hotel for one short night, before heading off to a truly memorable birding venue, which resulted in a long, satisfying view of one of the world’s most endangered raptors, the Philippine Eagle. Please do go to the National Geographic site to see photos and read about this magnificent bird. For me he is a symbol of all the birds of the Philippines, hanging on in his small, wet patch of mountain forest, not easily found or seen, but so well worth the effort.
For us, this expedition began with a 3AM awakening in Manila, and a flight to the island of Mindanao. A two hour drive took us to a small village where ponies and water buffalo awaited the burden of our luggage, while we hiked and hopped across streams along a dirt track climbing up through fields of pineapple and peppers to arrive at our campsite.

I had noted in my journal that the track was pretty muddy, though we started in sun, and we actually had a sunset after a shower that evening, as we sat in the open air lodge and enjoyed a yummy dinner of lumpia (spring rolls) and pork adobo, freshly cooked for us by an older, shy Filipino woman, a member of our local guide’s family. We had been fortunate, as we later realized, to be able to settle into our tents in dry conditions, as we spent the other 2 nights there dodging the downpours while attempting to de-mud boots, clothes, and gear.


Loading for the trek to camp


Luggage and supplies head up the hill


A tent for two, Mt. Kitanglad


Apo Mynas
(photo by K. Clarke) 		The following morning we started out uphill again, with Carlito, our very able local guide, who led us in sunshine (though it had rained heavily overnight), through more fields of peppers and cabbages to a site overlooking a forested valley and mountainsides beyond. Here we waited in great anticipation, spotting a few of the area’s other specialties, such as this goofy-looking Apo Mina:

All the while Carlito was scanning the slopes and valley and at last turned to us with a broad, triumphant smile, as he had found the eagle. This awesome bird was perched, and perhaps half a mile away, so at first we had some difficulty finding him in our binoculars, but the spotting scope brought him in loud and clear, the floppy crest blowing in the wind, his massive beak clearly visible as he turned his head. We watched for at least half an hour as he gave us front, back and side views, becoming increasingly active on his perch. Suddenly, he launched off, gliding downward, and then, with 4 or 5 mighty flaps, he disappeared into his forest. It was a perfect performance and I could only hope that his hunt was successful that morning.

We ate our picnic lunch (primarily fried chicken and fried rice) and began heading back down the 1,000’ vertical descent to camp as by now clouds had gathered ominously. We were happy to find some other endemic species in the tiny forest patches tucked in between the fields as we descended, but then the heavens opened, and we were soon stepping carefully in the midst of a torrent which came up and over and into our boots, thoroughly soaking us all. How fortunate we were to have had our spirits buoyed by such a super encounter that morning! It certainly made for a celebratory mood that evening, once a hot water splash shower restored me and relatively dry clothes had been donned. Thanks to Susan’s expert DJ-ing and great iPod selection, and to Peter Gilchrist, the “procurer” and the sole Canadian member of our group, we enjoyed the first of many evenings with a sip or two of Tanduay, the self-proclaimed #1 rum of the Philippines. San Miguel beer was the other option, as wine was virtually impossible to find, or not worth doing so at least. Beer costs about the same as soft drinks in the Philippines, and rum isn’t far behind!
The following day a few of us returned up the hill and opted to hike further up into the cloud-forested mountains, for a chance at few more endemic species. It was slick, treacherous footing, and though I missed the Apo Sunbird, I did get superb, close views of the Apo Myna and even a perched, if brief, look at the Mindanao Racquet-tail, a member of a unique family of small parrots which are incredibly fast and cryptic, i.e., virtually impossible to see when settled into green leaves. This photo of another member of the Racquet-tail genus will give you an idea of how it gets its name:Blue-crowned Racquet-tail

These parrots were quite common at higher elevations (6,000’+), and a flock wheeling around a nearby ridge was a visual treat, but still nearly impossible to get in the binoculars. Thus I was especially happy with my good fortune in catching one in the open, on a snag – he obviously slipped up in allowing himself to be seen, but not for long! Of course, it rained on the way back down to camp, with a bit of thunder and lightening thrown in for good measure.


Homes in the rice paddy 		Our hike back down the track from camp the next day was definitely muddy, the streams we had hopped across were now less easily navigated, though the sturdy, small ponies had little problem, and some took advantage of the offer of a ride across.

Next stop on Mindanao was the PICOP logging concession, outside of the East coast town of Bislig. PICOP stands for Paper Industries Corp. of the Philippines, which is clearly the predominant industry in the area. We passed through the unlovely city of Butuan before turning inland toward the east. Dominated by MacDonalds, Dunkin’ Donuts and choked traffic, it was not unlike others we had seen. However, further along our 10 hour drive to Bislig there were endless miles of coconut plantations (the Philippines is the world’s largest exporter of coconut products), with a significant presence of the Dole Corp. in banana and papaya plantations as well. Mango groves and plantations were present too, as throughout the islands, and the yellow-skinned Philippine mangoes have to be the best I’ve ever eaten, truly a culinary highlight for me!

Throughout our trip, rice paddies dominated the roadside scene.

The Paper Country Inn in Bislig fortunately offered both laundry and (usually) hot showers, both of which were really necessary and appreciated after our camping. Their cheeseburgers and fries were quite popular, and our local guide, Mark, oversaw some memorable seafood dinners for us while we were there.

The drive to and from suitable remaining habitat within the huge PICOP area was at least an hour in each direction, once again in Jeepneys, so our departures were early each morning. It seems likely, judging by the number of squatters, that in years to come, the trip to the forest will be ever longer, as the population inevitably nibbles away at the fringes. However, the rewards for pre-dawn wake-ups were worth the sleepy, bumpy rides, including this stunningly blue Steere’s Pitta:

His other, common name is “Azure-breasted Pitta” – an understatement, I’d say!

We also saw the Red-bellied Pitta on the same morning, and with the later addition of a Hooded Pitta on Palawan, this became a notable 3-pitta trip.

Red-bellied Pitta

Hooded Pitta


Steere’s (Azure-breasted) Pitta

Philippine Frogmouth


Yellow-breasted Fruit Dove

An early AM special sighting, in addition to the Chocolate Hawk-owl, was this Philippine Frogmouth, seemingly frozen in Susan’s spotlight. As the name implies, their huge gapes enable them to scoop up insects during their nocturnal hunting forays.

This gorgeous Yellow-breasted Fruit Dove was another highlight. I know his photo is a bit fuzzy, but you can’t miss the colors!

A drive S. to Davao airport (quite new, up to date, good security) for our flight to Manila, and we once again had a quick night at the Pan Pacific before our morning flight to Palawan, about an hour in a Philippines Airline Airbus 320, packed full. The Palawan airport consisted of one strip and an old, crowded, open-air “terminal” (i.e., no A/C). There are up-scale resorts on Palawan, and many waiting transfer vehicles whose drivers held name signs for arrivals. Three vans whisked us to a nearby mangrove area, where the endangered Chinese Egret was a new bird for some of our group. Then an early lunch in the capital city of Puerto Princesa and we headed off toward Sabang, a long, bumpy 2+ hours away. The road was paved as we started out, but when we turned off to head NW across the island, we were quickly onto an unpaved surface that often barely resembled more than a muddy clearing between rice fields and coconut plantations. Life here was definitely rural, taking place right along the road edge, moving at a slow pace. The scenery was dominated by limestone formations, the mountains here more dramatically sculpted.

We arrived at our accommodations, The Last Frontier, and settled in in daylight, a rare luxury on birding trips. My half of a duplex cottage had a small balcony overlooking the rice paddies, a double bed with mosquito netting (though very few were around), a tiled if battered bathroom with cold water shower (which hit the entire bathroom), toilet & sink – all adequate if not plush.


Last Frontier, Sabang, Palawan

Coming ashore


Palawan Peacock-pheasant
(photo by D. Gemmill)

 The trees and grounds offered a few birds, and it was in general a very pleasant place to be. Our meals here were cooked by one of our local assistants, who produced enormous meals as she told us that we must eat and be full or else we would be vulnerable to malaria. Her calamari was hands-down the best I’ve ever tasted. French fries were all too good as well. The Philippine yellow mangoes, as we had already discovered, were simply delicious, and featured prominently for dessert.

The next morning, pre-dawn as usual, we took the 3 minute drive to the shore where we waded aboard motorized outriggers for the ¼ hour boat trip to St. Paul’s National Park. Also known as the Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park, this is a major tourist destination on Palawan, and rightly so, as the scenery alone is worth the trip.

We waded ashore on a lovely white sand beach, with plenty of birdsong coming from the trees which framed it. We were the first to arrive that day, and glad of it as we later found out when 20 or 30 more boatloads arrived. Our first stop was the rangers’ outpost, nothing so formal as one might envision, just a few sagging buildings housing the few, underpaid and un-uniformed men who are supposed to look after the park. As with the rest of the country, and much of Asia, there is simply not enough money to really enforce park boundaries and rules. St. Paul’s benefits from being somewhat removed, however. The packed dirt yard was home to two large monitor lizards, clearly unconcerned by our presence as we waited in hopes of seeing the normally shy Palawan Peacock-pheasant.

This bird had been slowly coaxed into coming to the clearing for grains of rice scattered by the men, and did not disappoint us this day. I heard and saw it darting through the jungle foliage just before it came tentatively out into the open. What a beauty!! Yes, the blues are really that color and that iridescent, making this probably the prettiest peacock species I’ve yet seen. Judging by the speed with which it moved through the jungle and the cryptic nature of its plumage in the deep shade of the undergrowth, it would have been extremely difficult to have seen it along the trail, as it was clearly very wary as well. Needless to say, this was a Palawan highlight for me.
Our subsequent hike up the “Monkey Trail” (aptly named, both for the presence of Long-tailed Macaques and for the acrobatic stair-climbing required) yielded a few more Palawan specialties, such as this Ashy-headed Babbler.

We could not leave without having a tour of the primary attraction, the Subterranean River.

For me, I must confess, caverns fall in the a-little-goes-a-long-way category, but the 45 min. trip was punctuated by Glossy Swiftlets and thousands of bats perched overhead.


The Monkey Trail,
St. Paul’s Natl. Park, Palawan
limestone karst landscape


Ashy-headed Babbler
(photo by D. Gemmill)


Entrance to the Underground River,
St. Paul’s Natl. Park


Bats! (each little dot…)


Bats close-up!
(photo by D. Gemmill)

Lunch back at our accommodations included a delicious, fresh whole tuna, pork curry, mixed veggies, and, as always, white rice – we definitely did not go hungry and malaria wasn’t going to get us!

Our late afternoon birding was to have included some owling, but the rains descended in sheets once again, forcing a retreat and revision of plans. We would try again at pre-dawn the next AM. This proved to be quite squidgy underfoot, but also successful, as we nailed both the Palawan Scops-owl and the Palawan Frogmouth.

The long, rainy drive back to Puerto Princesa that day enabled us to take another outrigger to a small island where a Mantanani Scops-owl had been seen. Though we passed through a heavy squall en route, we pressed on to land once again on a lovely, deserted beach, and waited for darkness amidst the detritus of many day trippers who had picnicked there earlier that day. Finally two owls were heard, and patient stalking by Susan resulted in brilliant views of one as it fed on insects in a huge, flower-laden tree. These owls live only on the smaller islands off Borneo and Palawan, so it was a special treat to have seen one and seen it so very well too. We rode back in the warm breezes of a clear, star-lit night – a lovely finish to a long day.

Mantanani Scops-owl

A typical 4 AM awakening the next day got us to the Iwahig Penal Colony in the pre-dawn hours. This huge enclave has some very nice forest remaining, though the trail requires wading across as least 3 streams or small rivers.

As it had been raining (a lot, of course), we were ultimately forced to turn back by a 4th torrent too strong and high to cross, with only glimpses of a few endemics. In daylight now, we could see the inmates working in rice fields, loading trucks with river rock, and minding goats, and always smiling and waving. There was no sense of a threat here, and only a few friendly guards with guns of sorts. In fact, the sign at the front entrance sort of set the casual tone!

Once again we flew back to Manila, for a quick lunch in town, and then the 2 hour drive south towards Los Baños. Our hotel there sat right on the edge of the largest inland lake in the Philippines, with balcony views of the endless fish traps and nets, and Whiskered Terns busily wheeling and fishing at eye level.


One more river to cross


Coca Cola gets around!


Endless fishnets in Laguna de Bay,
largest inland lake, Luzon


Univ. of the Philippines, Los Banos, Luzon


Boy Scouts HQ

Birding in this area is focused at Mt. Makiling, which is a reserve for the University of the Philippines School of Forestry.

Passing through the campus, we walked up the relatively benign slope of a broad track, seeing such goodies as this Red-crested Malkoha along the way.

Several other Philippine specialties were seen here and on parts of the busy campus. Our route to and from our hotel took us through the Boy Scouts of the Philippines headquarters and jamboree compound.

The following morning, early rains quashed our chances for owling, though we did try it was simply too wet for both birds and birders. The owl was heard, but never seen – too wise to come out in such a mess! We headed back to Manila for a relaxing evening and a welcome sleep-in the next morning.

The second portion of our trip, a visit to three of the Visayan Islands, began with yet another packed flight, this time to Bacolod City, Negros. We were positioned in a brand new hotel from which we launched on a two hour drive the next morning to get us to Mt. Kanloan, the prime birding site on the island. As you will have noticed by now, most birding venues in the Philippines require lengthy access procedures, whether by boat, vehicle, hiking, or a combination of those means. As the press of population requires the cultivation of all but the most vertical, inaccessible land, the habitats have diminished in size and retreated mostly to mountainous strongholds. Decent accommodation for even a small group such as ours (8 + our leader) is seldom in close proximity to such habitats, so logistics require special arrangements and a lot of travel.

Though it was not raining as we set out uphill through the villages, it was clear that there had been major rain during the night, and the trail was slick and rough. We took it slowly, however, and climbed approximately 1500’ to the relatively untouched forest, where we had great views of several targets, including the Flame-templed Babbler.


Prize rooster


Rooster close-up

Along the lower track as we descended, we were serenaded by roosters, which figure prominently in Philippine life.

It seems that every household, no matter how poor, has at least one, and there were some huge cock farms, acres of roosters, seen throughout the trip. The birds are clearly valuable, being traded as well as fought, though not to the death. There are cock-fight arenas which resemble small football stadiums. This close-up is a favorite of mine, as the colors are so vibrant:

Next up was a 20 minute hop to Cebu, where we were whisked to the docks for our Supercat Ferry ride to Bohol. The catamaran was not crowded and moved swiftly along the Bohol Strait, with a Grade B Sci-fi movie shown en route. I saw a lot of flying-fish, but not much else as we were moving so fast and there was little bird life in evidence. Storm clouds were building as we headed south.

Vans once again met us at Tagbilaran City, Bohol, and we headed for the Tarsier Sanctuary outside of town. These tiny, nocturnal primates would fit in the the palm of your hand, and must surely have been one of the inspirations for ET:
Tarsiers just hang out during the day


ET call home!


Chocolate Hills rain storm 		After a brief stop at Raja Sikatuna Park we arrived at the Chocolate Hills Guesthouse, where our rather elaborately decorated rooms, though lacking shower curtains and toilet seats, provided not only hot water and A/C, but also lovely views out over the 1268 nearly uniform mounds filling the horizon. They were looking definitely un-chocolate due to all the rain, but I still enjoyed the views of these hills, which were formed from ancient coral formations by wind and water erosion.
Our hike into the park the next day was up, over and around similar though forested hills where we succeeded in seeing several more of the Philippine endemics.

Also well seen that day and the following morning were the Philippine Colugos, commonly mis-named as “Flying Lemurs”. The Colugo, also found in Borneo, Sumatra, Java and Malaysia, is neither a lemur nor does it fly. It does glide, however, and can cover over 200’ using the membrane which stretches from the sides of its neck to connect with all four legs and its tail.

After a picnic lunch we retreated to the hotel, with a massive thunderstorm not far behind.

Just before departure from the Guesthouse, this spectacular, huge Atlas moth was discovered. I’ve tried to include my hand for size comparison – I believe its wingspan was about 8”!
Philippine Colugo


Atlas Moth
(largest moth wingspan in the world!)

Recrossing the Bohol Strait (with another bad movie on offer), we ended up in Cebu City in perhaps the nicest hotel of the trip, the Marco Polo Plaza. Not only were the rooms spacious and nicely appointed, the buffet was outstanding, offering everything from Sushi, Sashimi and a fresh seafood bar to Peking Duck, Satay (my favorite), grilled-to-order meats, a pasta station, salads and too-tempting pastries, ice cream, Belgian waffles, and even some decent wine! Needless to say, after many, many meals of fried chicken and rice, the delicious variety was truly welcome.

Fully fueled for the following day, we enjoyed a relatively lazy morning with a 6AM breakfast (wonderful buffet again), before a 1 ½ hour drive into the hills toward the center of the island. A small vertical patch of forest was our destination, with an earnest and eager local man and his family as our guides up the steep and rocky limestone trail. We managed excellent, perched views of the Black Shama, whose entire world range is restricted to Cebu.

We then climbed to a platform to watch for the Cebu Flowerpecker. Alas, he did not put in an appearance this day, and threatening rain convinced us to head down the precipitous rocks early, a wise move as, yet again, the rains did come. We were invited into the very simple home of this most welcoming family to eat our picnic lunch, then headed back to Cebu City for our final evening together. It was a startling study in lifestyle contrasts that day!
Back in Manila, I had one last afternoon and evening to de-mud, organize and pack for the long trip home. My Northwest Airlines return flights were smooth and on time, and the food, especially from Tokyo on, was surprisingly good, fresh and delicious. I arrived in Atlanta to a bit of a luggage hassle, but got that sorted out only to find that my Marriott Rennaisance room had been given to some NASCAR attendee, not a welcome bit of news at 10PM after 27 hours of travel! They did, however, chauffeur me to a nearby Courtyard, where I called Bill, showered and collapsed. Driving home the next morning in blowing snow, I could not help but reflect on “what a difference a day makes…”


Raja Sikatuna Park, Bohol
My adventure in the Philippines was definitely a challenging one at times, and certainly far wetter than anticipated. However, I met the challenges and exceeded my goals, seeing more than 85 of the endemic species, most of which are endangered and some of which may well be gone within my lifetime. In all I saw 121 life birds, and a total of 246 species. The Filipinos could not have been more welcoming and friendly, and we were certainly very well looked after all along the way. As English is widely and well spoken, and signage, menus and newspapers are in English too, the Philippines is a comfortable country in which to travel. Our group was a congenial and experienced collection of birders and we all helped one another throughout, perhaps having become especially bonded by our early camping experience. The birding was difficult, with most species not inclined to linger for long study, but of course the other side of that coin is that sightings were rewarding too. Such is the nature of rain-forest birding, including, of course, the rain. It failed to dampen our spirits, and the bright smiles of the Filipinos certainly weren’t daunted by it!