I had the chance to revisit Zambales' grand cove. This time with a group of outdoor photography enthusiasts from the company I work for (yup, I too have a day job).
I decided to skip Nagsasa (one of my favorites also) and instead head to Silanguin. I knew how packed Nagsasa cove would get in the peak of summer. Silanguin, on the other hand, remained crowd-free, thanks to its remoteness. Its a good 1 hour boat ride to the mouth of the cove from Pundaquit, and another 20 minutes or so before you hit the inner beach. That weekend we had the entire cove (the biggest of the 4 in Zambales) all to ourselves - all 4 km of beautiful beach
My favorite part of the cove is its southern end - full of interesting rock formations and photographic opportunities. Its a good 2-km hike from our campsite but its worth the trouble. The summer heat had turned the nearby hills golden and brown making the scenery looked like it was autumn.
Its was an overcast afternoon but the clouds began to break just as sunset was nearing. I did not know that a typhoon is already brewing on the country's eastern side and it is raining hard back in Manila.
The drama that unfolded right after the sun went down as overwhelming. Suddenly the sky all around us lit up in color. A huge expanse of the eastern sky was ablaze in warm tones of orange which then turned to crimson.
Everywhere you turn there's a glowing cloud in shades of orange, yellow, pink, and red. It was a feast for the eyes.
It was already dark when we packed up our gears. The stars hid behind a blanket of clouds evening. The stormy weather finally caught up with us.
Sunrise the next morning was cloudy but we managed to squeeze a few usable shots before heading back to camp for breakfast. I have not finished preparing our meal when I heard the unmistakable sound of an incoming boat. Our boatman decided to fetch us early as the waves are getting bigger and dark clouds are looming. We hurriedly broke camp, stuffed our food into containers, and hopped into the outrigger boat. The first few minutes of the ride was indicative of what's in store for us outside of the cove.
It was the longest 2-hour boat ride I've ever been in. Our boat pitched, lurched, and bucked too many times to count. If our boat had been the usual 4-person boat, I swore the waves would have turned it into pieces of floating wood.
Most of us were drenched by the time we reached Pundaquit but still thankful we made it back in one piece. It felt like Silanguin had compensated us in advance with the colors of sunset the previous day for what would be a rough boat ride the next morning.