IF YOU'VE stayed on the pounded, beaten and abused tourist track long enough, then perhaps it's time to get off and venture into uncharted territory.And if you want to go the extreme and veer way off your comfort zone, then try going to Sarangani, Davao Del Sur, the country's southernmost town just a few hours away from the northern tip of Indonesia. If you look at the map, it's the two little dots at the bottom of the big island of Mindanao. The bigger one is Balut Island, and the other is Sarangani--the two main islands of the municipality. Be warned that the trip to Sarangani town is not for the beginner; even hardy travelers will find the trip quite a challenge. First, you have to take the one hour, 40-minute flight to General Santos City, board a jeepney or hire a cab for the 45-minute ride to the port of Glan, Sarangani province, and then, take a close to three-hour speedboat ride to Balut Island. I must admit, albeit reluctantly, that there were times during the seemingly endless trip across the rough Sarangani Bay that I almost called out to the boatmen and demand to be immediately taken back to the mainland. But there were just enough rewards along the way to encourage you to keep the faith despite the crashing of the waves against the boat, the relentless slapping of the seawater against your face and arms, and the sun's searing heat. There is the sight of schools of flying fish seemingly trying to outrace the boat, the changing color of the sea as the boat traveled across sandbars and coral reefs, and, of course, the lure of adventure. Finally, just when my husband and I thought we can no longer take another splash of water in the face, Balut Island comes into view. It was like a scene straight out of Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park, with the lush vegetation, the mist covering the apex of the dormant volcano that is Balut, and the glaring lack of people. The only thing missing were the dinosaurs. When I staggered out of the outrigger boat with legs that suddenly turned to jelly, I hit large, rounded, multi-colored pebbles instead of the usual white sand, evidence of the island's volcanic origin. Another proof was the spring found further up the beach, with water hot enough to boil an egg or the skin of a human silly enough to dive in. We stayed long enough to get our circulation back and to sample a coconut-based drink brought over by locals kind enough to share their merienda with some of the very few tourists who venture to their land. Their language was alien to me and it was later pointed out to me that they were speaking B'laan, the dialect of the B'laan who account for the majority of Sarangani's people. As soon as we recovered our sea legs, we got on our trusty outrigger again and sailed for another 30 minutes to Sarangani Island, and landed on Olaniban Island. Pleasure sight
It was then that we forgot all about the difficult trip because Olaniban Island looked like Boracay before all the tourists and the hotels came rushing in. We had the beach with its sugary white sand almost to ourselves with just a few tenants and birds to keep us company. We only had coconut trees and a makeshift hut for shelter, but they were more than enough to keep alive the fantasy that we were the lords of our own little island, far from the crowds and the annoying sound of a cellular phone going off. The blessed sound of silence is only broken by the trilling of colorful birds and the breaking of the waves. The locals say the island was leased by a businessman and he intends to develop it into a resort to attract tourists. Today, the island is only enjoyed by Sarangani people and a few visitors from the neighboring towns. We only had less than an hour to enjoy the solitude and pay homage to God's creation and it was off to Balut Island again to prepare for much-needed shuteye, but not before our boatman bought what looked like a three-kilo fish, fresh off the sea, for a handsome sum of P70. On the way back, we stopped by Marorong islet to see what's left of the stone fortress put up by Lopez de Villalobos, who, in 1543, was tasked by Spain with retracing Magellan's route aside from bringing home the bounties of the fabled spices of the Moluccas. Just a small part of one wall is left for visitors to see, but it's enough to conjure the image of the Spanish explorer having stayed there on his way to the Moluccas. These days, only intrepid, modern-day explorers bear witness to the lonely fort with the ringside view of Balut and Saranggani Islands' waters. Darkness has descended on the island by the time we made our way back to port. We gingerly made our way up the giant slabs of volcanic rock to the dock and then took a short five-minute motorcycle ride to the municipal hall, which was to be our home for the night. Sarangani Mayor Jerry Cawa, who generously turned his office into our quarters for the night, said plans are underway to put up lodging facilities in the island to encourage more tourists to visit. In the meantime, we had the municipal hall to ourselves with fresh fish for dinner and Mayor Cawa for company. It was from the mayor that we learned that Sarangani people are a happy mix of B'laans, Christians, Muslims and Indonesians. It's really not surprising considering that Sarangani is just a few hours by boat away from the northern tip of Indonesia, and Indonesians have been coming to Sarangani since the middle of the 14th century when a certain Datu Panurat took off on his balangay from Indonesia and landed on Batuganding point, Balut island. Since then, Indonesians have been in and out of Sarangani and their legacy is seen in the coconut trees that abound the island as Indonesians were said to have been the first to bring coconut trees to the island; the names of some of the villages; and finally, the people. Cawa estimated that there were more than 1,000 pure Indonesians living in Sarangani. But they consider themselves more Filipino than Indonesian considering that they were born and raised here. It is pleasant surprises like these that make the trip far from ordinary. There were more, the locals assured us, but it was time to head for home. And as we rode our boat for the long, daunting trip back to Glan, we no longer complained about the cold and the spray from the boat hitting the rough sea at high speed. We were strengthened by the knowledge that we dared go where very few have gone before. | 
