You cannot really see the magic of a place unless you wake up early for its sunrise, or stay out late for its sunset. It is in these fleeting moments that a place will reveal its true self.

At first I thought that Silanguin is going to be just "another cove" in Zambales: a stretch of white/gray volcanic sand beach and pine trees, just like the other two more popular coves (Anawangin and Nagsasa). But Silanguin proved me wrong; she did have those ... and more.

I let my first sunrise on the cove pass without shooting. I was dead tired from the midnight bus ride and the early morning boat trip. But by mid afternoon, I was ready to explore. We trekked to the southern end of the cove, a good 45 minutes away from our camp site, in search for a good place to shoot the sunset.


The beach there was rocky and we came upon this silent crystal pool beside a small hill. From the distance I could see more rocks, huge ones, and a karst-like rock formation that tapered sharply at its top end. It is in places like these that you can hear nature speak, and it's saying: "you ain't seen nothin' yet".


Everything turned golden an hour or so before the sunset. The fast moving clouds made the lighting even more dynamic, changing by the second. One of the photos I took suited a black and white processing. Devoid of colors, it can show more effectively how dynamic the tones (light and dark) were that afternoon.


The location we selected had an unobstructed view of the sunset. There also was a good variety of rocks to use as foreground. I fancied one that looked like blocks of chocolate, and another one that has a peculiar "sea monster" shape. I did my best to make efficient use of the few minutes of amazing light and capture a fraction of Silanguin's moods and colors.


We were blessed with a gorgeous the sunset that afternoon. We were able to see the cove, or more precisely a part of it, in a beautiful light. I know we were just starting to scratch the surface as I viewed what my companions were able to capture that afternoon. Each of the photos was totally unique, even when the spots we had selected were just several meters away from each other.


Dawn the next morning was an epitome of serenity. Nothing stirred; everything took its time before coming to life.


I walked by the beach north of our campsite as the first rays of the day hit a distant hill. The sight was nothing short of grand. Even when the mountains on the east blocked the sunrise, the cove had a way of showing great light.

See my other photos of Silanguin here. The cove definitely has more to offer, and I hope be back there soon. 

Silanguin driftwood

I was finally able to complete my "tour" of the Zambales coves last weekend. It all started several years ago when I first spent a weekend in Anawangin cove. Over the years I have revisited Anawangin but moved on to the next cove (Nagsasa cove) when it got too crowded there. I instantly fell in love with Nagsasa cove, but the lure of seeing what's beyond Nagsasa cove was too strong a pull to ignore. So I gave in.

It was still dark when we reach the mouth of  Silanguin cove, a good 1 hour boat ride from Pundaquit, the jump off point to the coves of Zambales. From what I saw in Google Earth, I knew this cove was much bigger than Nagsasa, more than 3 times bigger. The ride from its mouth to the beach head at the center of the cove took another 20 minutes.

textured beach

The sight of the huge cove was an awesome vista when the first golden light of the morning finally shone over the towering mountains in the east. It was so huge I felt a sense of panic, I did not know where to start taking photos.

Related post: Silanguin shows off her true colors

old and young

So what we did was stroll to random directions and see what luck might bring us. What first caught my eye were the drift woods in the rocky section of the beach. The twisting bleached trunks  provided a nice contrast to the texture of the pebbled beach. The vastness of the cove made everything look remote or detached.

grand cove

Our group were the only visitors there that weekend so we got the a huge part of the cove all to ourselves. Some parts of the cove are already being developed into resorts (by foreigners). I saw a couple of yachts anchored in different points in the cove. One part of the beach already had brightly colored flags waving in the early morning breeze. But for now everything seemed rustic even at those "developed" parts. I guess its remoteness (its the farthest from the jump off point) made it that way.

afternoon textures

After breakfast and a quick nap (we had been traveling since midnight), we headed to southern end of the cove, in search for a good place to shoot sunset. We wished for rocks (as foregrounds) and found towers of them after hiking for about 1 hour. What Anawangin and Nagsasa have, Silanguin has in abundance (in 1 huge package), much to our liking.

It is hard to believe that just a year ago a group of 10 campers already constitutes a huge crowd in Nagsasa cove. Now hordes have invaded the place, and its not even officially summer yet. My "mission" there last weekend was to rediscover the things I love most about the place: its soothing tranquility and its grandeur.

I was surprised to find out that the quiet Aeta settlement at the southern of the cove is now a busy campsite (the only campsite before was at the northern end of the beach) with tables and huts. Our group was the first to arrive but by noon time there was more than 150 campers swarming the place.

It seemed like tranquility will be in short supply that weekend. I did not shoot much at first, I just revisited some of my favorite spots from previous trips. Some looked the same, other have changed.

tranquility found

I found a quiet spot by the river at the back of the campsite. Everyone else was at the beach so the place was perfectly still. It was exactly the Nagsasa scene I was after.


I could not ask for a better sunset that afternoon. The weather was perfect. I enjoyed watching this huge ball of fire going down in front of the cove. I stayed away from the beach front of course, away from the crowd.


I did not pack my gears yet after the sun finally went down, knowing day's final display of amazing colors is still to come. And I'm glad I waited; but I paid for the treat with a few mosquito bites.


I woke up early the following morning. I knew I had to beat the crowd to the choicest of locations to shoot the early morning light. I love how the first rays of the day painted the nearby mountains golden. Their reflections on the (almost dried up) lake was surreal. Surprisingly nobody showed up near the lake until the sun was really up. I was able to shoot a few frames before other campers started going about.

The verdict: Nagsasa's landscape evolves, but its still as grand as ever. Its tranquility still abounds, if you know where to look.

Like others who love the great outdoors, I too realized that its the repeat visits to a place that yield the best photographs. The landscape changes over time, and the light is always dynamic. Combine all the elements: the clouds, the sky, the light, etc, and you have a unique moment. No two photographs of even the same exact spot are ever the same. I take pride in the fact that the photos I make are my own versions of those special moments.