Our (not so boring) Simple Life on a Tiny Private Island in Mindanao

[jamesmusslewhite]

   So what has life been like for both my wife and myself, living on a tiny 8-hector private island  on the outer-edge of of a mangrove forest? In a nutshell, not boring and amazingly roomy. We are literally the last (only) electric-meter of the last power pole in the line. There is no water-well or freshwater source on the island. But we have adapted to any hardship (been a few) and have come to love living this (not so boring) lifestyle.

   So how did we come from life living between a 2-story rental in Surigao City proper and our little 6-hector coconut farm, to living tiny island life? Well is a 12 year tale of unforeseeable consequences, circumstances and little nudges by Karma and an angle or two. And if I had a chance to do it all over? Then I would probably still be here on this tiny island, just with better internet and underwater. So where to start? I guess a couple of months before I had ever heard of tiny Tangjanonan Island.

[Jake]

You learn to improvise, adapt and overcome like a good Marine.  Bravo Zulu Gunny!

[jamesmusslewhite]

     First though this odd tale requires a little back-story to fully appreciate and under the overall layering of unforeseeable consequences, circumstances and little nudges by Karma and an angle or two.  My wife purchased the Dinagat Island farm back in 2002, using her company 401K. She was an assembly-line wiring-tech for Goodman a mayor AC/manufacturing company in the US. I was an over-qualified professional yard-niggar with the desire to retire early. So when 'Ike' rolled over the top of us, hammering everything our Nursery had already struggled salvaging from the twin-kick in the ball from 'Katrina' and 'Rita'; I remembered the old Irish adage, "When the ship's aground, the see has spoken". Well three hurricanes have a rather loud voice. 

 

    So at age 50 the wife and I sold or gave away everything thing that couldn't fit in 34 'Balikbayan' boxes, packed or trash, grabbed the boy, and made the jump over the 'Big Pond'. And have never regretted that decision. The irony is that I am a skilled horticulturist/botanist with an established farm, which I rarely seen. Perhaps all that fist-shaking cussing I did at our Cleveland, Texas nursery before we left; perhaps followed us here, and rubbed a little on me here? My originals business model was a plan to raise crops and make premium grade VCO and gourmet vinegars. Instead I am on another smaller island raising lobster. Ahh the deliciousness of crow and irony, as yet unseen cosmic forces played out their roles. Though maddening at the time, now 13 years later I understand their positive effect. There is no accidents, merely designed order playing out before our eyes. A complex intricate webbings, of never-ending ‘Cause-and-Effects’ and tugging ‘Yen-and-Yang’, nudging us all ever closer towards our assigned paths. If one honestly evaluates and self-reflects on their discussions and reactions, than one can see the complex tapestry.  A classic ‘Case in point’ example: I came to the Philippines to retire a live the quite life of a farmer, with a business-plan and business-modal in hand. But quickly found several roadblocks being directly in our way.

   The most pressing at the time was my dissatisfaction with the quality of the school my son would be attending on Dinagat Island. So my wive and I felt our boy would better served if enrolled in a Surigao City school. Both the wife and I both firmly believed our son’s education was paramount above all else. So we chose to leave the farm and moved to Surigao City. We stayed in a hotel while we found a decent affordable rental, and then set out to look at all the various schools. This was so once we decided on the school, we could then find a place to live near by. Once accomplished we settled into a new 2nd floor construction. At that time my VA rating only allowed us a monthly budget of $677,  the rental was 8,00php, so after utilities our budget tight but certainly. The new landlords took a shine to us and are still really good friends. We learned through them that they were good friends with the Surigao City Mayor who owned a property next-door to the place we were renting. I never actually met the mayor and his wife back then, though later I was by him my former landlords spoke often about my wife and me. Another coincidence is not only has that neighbor became my closest friend, but also the owner of this island. The layers only thicken.

Now just by happenstance (cosmic forces) our landlord’s wife was a school teacher, happened to be the Principle of Caraga Regional Science High, who by happenstance (cosmic forces) was good friends with the Caraga Region Schools Superintendent. Now by chance our was turning 14 at that time, which would make him both the eligible grade and age for accepted into C,R.S.H. program. By chance the 'entrance exam' for C,R.S.H. was still two weeks away, allowing him time to register for a seat at the 'entrance exam'. Those are the top students in all of Caraga who will be tested, and only the top 140 scores are accepted. Also students are only test at the entry level, meaning one shot, because only those accepted and then pass that school year, advance together to the next school year. So (from first day of enrollment, to their final year graduation. The whole group advances together (no new enrollments). I was so proud for my son when when I head he graduated 8th in his class, proving he had his mother's intelligence and not mine. So first roadblock resolved. I was actually consulting and designing a large floating lobster/grouper platform in Maldives at that time. The day my son graduated Science high. I was being unable at successfully securing connecting-flights, in time to get back to Surigao City (broke my heart). Four months after his graduation we had him on a plane to Austin, Texas to insure his safety; this was during all that craziness surrounding the Harry Doyle murder case.  Six months later my wife and I finally officially moved back to our Dinagat Island farm. Once there again we could finally concentrate on tackling to second long-standing roadblock with zeal and vigor, finally moving home. 

    Second roadblock? An inability to secure a power connection to our Dinagat Island farm. See at the time our farm was actually located right dab in the middle, of a dead-zone between two competing power competing power companies. Neither company was willing to run a wire to the farm, not without the long-nose tax of 300,000php. By then our total monthly income was only a meager 40,000. So I gave them a not too-polite 'PISS-OFF!!!' living over a year off-grid, walking over to a neighbor's to charge the cells, WIFI and the laptop. So in essence we merely camped on our farm for a year. So having years before moving to the city for the boy's education was the right move. In a twist of cosmic Karma-irony, In 2015 the Philippine government installed aluminum power-poles, power lines and breaker-boxes to connect three dwellings on our farm for 700php. So I saved 300k and get to grin every-time I pay that electric bill. Second roadblock tackled, plus a little free camping practice.

   Now the third roadblock was the strangest and most involving the farm. Back in mid-2010 the Dinagat Island Authority started a major island-length 2-lane roadway project that took six years to cut through our farm. There had always been a dangerous tight curve on that old road cutting through that part of the property, Plus there was a sizable strip of rough steep hillside on the other side if the road. They wanted to purchase part of that hillcementside to use for needed road-fill on major portions of their road expansion through the local township. Having been a commercial landscape contractor I had a general understanding that they would require much more that they were being allowed to spend. This is the township where her younger siblings where birthed add raised, and now nieces and nephews call home. So I talked about this to my, wife. We decided not to sell them the land, but to allow them full access to use the soils. And to also allow their access to the soils if needed, as well as donating the land usage for their bunk house, storage space for their heavy equipment; but must important to road construction is having enough space store rock, gravles, sand and sufficient space to mix them. They rarely ever move from these types of locations untill forced due to being inconvient transpurting mixed-cement. some may ask why did we just give all that soil away and not collect come coin? Simple. My wife and her family gain standing within her community, and for three years their crews then used their heavy bulldozers, excavators, dumptrucks and road-graders to pushed all that excess soil around our property for free. So in the end I gave a way hector sixe of hill of soil to my neighbors for free, which benifited the community. And in trade (we still on the land that is left) while receiving tons and tons of free hillside excavation/landfilling, sodt-ground packing and 1,000s of hours of free professional heavy-equipment usage.

So in the end, did I come out on the losing end of those arrandgements? If so, I can live with it.

 

[jamesmusslewhite]

   So now this odd tale forwards. It’s now a mere three months before another Karma intervention and cosmic Nelson “Ha Ha”. As unbeknownst to us, all our efforts to navigate through the road blocks, and finally reap the long-awaited simplicity of Dinagat Island agrarian contributors; unforeseen foreseen forces and events would place that bliss on hold (to date: 6 years and counting).

   That good friend, of my former landlord, by happenstance became a very close friend. We kindle much of the same interest. The wife and I were invited to a house christening and subsequent house-opening. While having lunch we were having a usual ‘catch-up’ conversation, and he queried about our settling-in  on the farm, that were up to, etc ect? I mentioned some ideas I was drawing up for several possible rice patty conversion into fish ponds. He too has a worrying farm north of Surigao City, so such conversations are quite common between us. I knew he had interest in freshwater aquaculture as there is a river bordering his farm (but we have never had to walk-down and see it). His thriving law practice keeps the man chasing his own tail trying to keep up. I told him I was devoting much of my time designing a small lobster hatchery, that I hoped to I could later build on a tiny beach lot we owned near our farm.  Boy that sparked a long line of queries. I never knew he has tried lobster farming before, I never knew he owned an island (actually two), or that he had inquired about the potential such a hatchery.

   That conversation, led to another and another and another, that culminate in a boat tour to his two island. The rest is what is referred to as fate or divine-intervention, as at first glance I knew this is where I was meant  to be, and later our Dinagat Island farm would later play an important role. If this forum proves to shows longevity, then there will be plenty of time to occasionally thread in tubbiest of backstory and projections.

   But what the readers came to pay their wooden nickel, was the barker’s draw and the marquee promise. So enough with the bark and on with the show…

[Dave Hounddriver]

7 hours ago, jamesmusslewhite said:

If this forum proves to shows longevity, then there will be plenty of time to occasionally thread in tubbiest of backstory and projections.

Sounds good.  This forum has been around for a dozen or more years so we can hope for longevity.

Now we know the background behind your enthusiasm for your Dinagat Island lobster farm. 

[jamesmusslewhite]

     This image was taken long before I first ever stepped onto the tiny island.There is a long odd backstory. Some believe it is inhabited by the enchanted, some believe it is cursed, while others haunted. It was a graveyard to the unwanted, diseased an unaccepted. An open barter's market long before Spanish coin and a Moro slaver's holding spot where those stolen where held waiting their Sultan's slave ships to carry them away to never return. Many a tear and blood, desperation and sorry most lost to time, but the seasons still come and go with a majestic timeless beaut and grace. I often wonder what long forgotten secretes do the ancient mangroves tell, seeping up from the ashes and dust where they dwell. Often we can almost hear a wisper or a sigh, enough to make one wonder if the Nephilim of the trees still cry?

   Thinking back six years the time has past fast, almost like yesterday when first looked out over these waters.

  The island is only 8-hectors in size, but narrow and long like a fat noodle.

Dense deep-water mangrove forest on one side, and open water on the other with a vibrant ecology.

with a 1-hector saltwater pond just behind our house

and an amazing lady by my side.

   I think I can fill quite a few pages of interesting topics on this thread.

 

Edited June 5, 2021 by jamesmusslewhite

[jamesmusslewhite]

   For one to tell a rich well rounded tale about a companion or couple, most choose starting from the beginning.  Mine began as a lowly Corporal, on a beautiful island in the Pacific, during a miserable steamy morning. Where everything was going wronging, until it didn’t…. I was Stationed with 3rd Marines Division, 7th Comm Bn. at the time, for 2-1/2 years on Okinawa Japan from 1984-1987. This being 1985 I would be hanging with a motley group of very gungy overly obsessed fellow Jarhead dive-junkies. All determined to hit all the prime sites around the island we could cram into our agenda. I possessing an International driver’s licenses and a Toyota pickup truck; meant the cramming of 8-12 husky Jarines with tanks, gear and coolers. Then…

   The ‘big-green-weenie’s preverbal monkey-wrench. Result being? 2 –hour late start - meaning all large tanks are gone. Now late to commissary – meaning all cold beer and JD gone. Could this day get any worse? Why yes it can, no ice! Noooooooooo, Then it started to rain???????? Yahhhhhhh Okinawa can get hot. But it really downed (as Gump would say) “Aaa Lot.” See Okinawan mud is a Jarines’ worse nightmare, especially navigating through the narrowing twisted hillsides tombs trails and steep beach-paths. Slipper than drunken 'slug-snot’.

   Now envision 12-14 husky sized wetsuits-wearing bunch of big kids all hanging onto the bouncing truck-sides, coolers, gear, tanks and lives. As we plowed drove up and down some of those scariest goat paths, sliding side-by-side, in something not much bigger than a tin-coffin. All yelling “SLOW DOWN!” (as if I had breaks) while giggling and laughing and cracking jokes all the way. God I miss partying with ‘Fleet Marines’.

   Some of the shallower dives were possible so the Sunday proved to be totally boring. Without long-tanks you cannot dive the dive the deeper junk. You always want to dive the wrecks, remnants of the Japanese’s navel boat and planes. But not today, so to the shallow around ‘Blue Beach’ in snorkel and pilfer plenty of cold beer. Rule 1 never drink till after the dives. So I thought I would snorkel the shallows one last time before return to my truck to head back to the base.

   I always wore a full-body grey wetsuit with a black stripe up each side. I was following a coral line and was focusing was below me. I bumped into something that soft and squashy, so I shoot-up in the chest-high water. Quick circular pan, nothing. Then a realization that there’s a little 4' 11"" 89lb. girl, who latterly lept 5-feet of sea, now wearing my head as a turban, and screaming while clinging like a cat. She thought I was a shark when I bumped her from behind. She left the water! I was trying to peel her off my head and when she realized I was a man and not a shark, well that is when I first experienced her temper. I finally calmed her down and then we spoke awhile, she told me her name and where she lived.

She was a double ‘blue card’ international (solo, cultural) dancer working for her aunt, who owned a Philippines talent agency. They booked performers for 2 Hotels and a Casino on Okinawa. They were there to check on living and working condition of those contracted. These were high-end establishments, and not the little buy-me-drink-clubs or strip clubs that riddled Okinawa. It took me an hour to calm her down, and once I got her calm, then her aunt came running up. Now she had a temper! She did not like her niece talking to a G.I. at all. And had no problem telling me so. But it was too late I had her address, and somehow I still remembered it. I wrote her almost every day over the next 8 months before I came to the Philippines to visit her. And over the next year I returned 4 more times and spent time with her. I started the paperwork process to marry her before I was discharged. Upon returning returned to the States. Seven months of paperwork and secure her a Fiancée Visa. She then flew to the States in late 1987 were we were married. We love each other now as much as 36 years ago. Just your typical expat dating story....

Edited June 6, 2021 by jamesmusslewhite

[jamesmusslewhite]

   Here everyday life seems like a new episode of ‘Gilligan’s Island’ where I seem determine to obliviously bungled into mastiff, while my ‘Prof. MaryAnn’ always seeming to save the day with intuitive- Intuition and ‘jungle-engineering’.  Just minus the ‘laugh tract’ and coconut cream pies, I’m more of a ‘chocolate cake’ kind of guy myself.  Where unexpected natives show up, never actually resolving issues, but always wanting you in their cooking pots.

   So I chose these photos as they are of my favorite haunts and running-grounds. When I mention my own areas of the Philippines (Surigao and Dinagat Island) you can have a true understanding of my neck-of-the-woods. 

   This the Northern-tip of the big Island of Mindanao Island and Southern-tip of Dinagat Islands. This Surigao City and Dinagat.

so when you hear me mention 'head-waters of Surigao Straights' this is where I am talking about.

and this is what we personally refer to as our local 'Scrounging Zone', and is the primary area where we catch our daily/nightly viddles. My wive calls it her 'corner store'. There are other viddle collection spots (other island's beaches) where we collect various critters and grasses. This is because raising lobster requires a wide variety of divers specie types. They are solely 'live-feeders' and refuse/ignore eating carcasses and spolage. So what we collect to feed them, we also collect for our own table. And Bubba, those sea-bugs eat highest on the hog. For my wife 'scrounging' has become both an art form and an adventure. 

   This photo is an areal image of our Dinagat Island farm, and they say, an image is worth a thousand words. I believe it is always better to 'show you', than to 'snow you'. So through them I hope you can have a better mental picture of my little odd existence, and possibly find it easier to follow my rantings of an eccentric madman.

Edited June 7, 2021 by jamesmusslewhite

[jamesmusslewhite]

   So with the boring backstory of how I met my soul mate, why I tired and chose walking away from a rat-race enslavement existence, rarely see our farm, for a life of glorious solitude and seclusion. Such that a pandemic has had little effect, on our day-by-day existence. From a dedicated horticulturist to a fanatical eccentric aquaculturist was an easy transition for me. I have always been conservationist a heart, with a deep-seated love for nature. The owner of this island has always been plagued by those pilfering and exploiting an ever dwindling ecology the resources of this island. And he is trying to have the island officially declared a sanctuary, but always an uphill battle. Millions of small-minded ‘Juan Tomads’ always seeking the easiest path, ‘hoorah for me, and the hell with everyone else, robbing and destroying for a mere few fast peso. Bleeding the very futures from their generations without a care or reason, like locus and jackals. This topic will surely come up from time to time in following posts to come.

   Even as a young kid, later as an adult on the Gulf-coast waters of Texas and Louisiana region; the need for conservation was paramount to insure a healthy vibrant environment and ecosystem. So when the wife and I see an injured or stranded animal we simply must try to save and protect them. Whether it is a bird or sea-turtle, that is what is called being a good steward, it is a shame that so many merely choose to do otherwise.

(wife's sister holding a rescued bird being released on our farm - wife taking the photo)

   A sea turtle being readied to be lowered into our boat at our little Dinagat Island lobster pole-hut facility. Local fishermen (even though to fish turtle is a punishable crime) were trying to catch this lady. We just happen to be boating by, and instead of diving, she swam directly towards our boat. It was as if she knew we would protect her. My brother in-law simply lifted her up onto the boat. We took her to the hut and placed her into one of the nets. There she was fed well and even swam and played with his children for several days (very gentle al creatures). And when we were sure the fishermen were out of the area, she was loaded back onto the boat where she was taken to be safely back to be released back into the wild just before dusk. The rest is in the hands of the, we were merely being a good steward. 

 

   This video though has a rather sad ending, for such and unexpected happy event. Days after this was taken perhaps the last know specimens of this aquatic plant species of this type species, was pulled up by it's roots for a birthday treat for a low-lifer's drunkard's party. The classic 'quintessential case in point', to this tale...

 

Edited June 9, 2021 by jamesmusslewhite

[jamesmusslewhite]

   When I was first invited by the island’s owner to this island is what initially laid the intention to layout the designs for the construction a of a mariculture hatchery. A couple of poorly timed earthquakes put those plans on hold four years ago. Which has led to us starting an on-island project (which will remain nameless). And the startup of another ongoing mariculture ‘grow-out’ project (subject of another ongoing thread). But of the projects, ever since first stepped onto this tiny island, which has attracted me most; is the 1-hector size saltwater pond behind our dirty-kitchen, and area around the new pole-hut.

   Here we can place multiple net types and configurations where aquaculture pens can be constructed both inside and outside of the nets. And depending which specific specie types housed, their desired tailored habitat can be provided. Including those for seaweed types, shells, slugs, etc. The intention is to create small protected vegetation habitat zones, directly on the seafloor under the nets. While allowing desired fish food types to be raised directly above them. Creating a viable working sanctuary. Allowing safe zones in areas where current dwelling vegetation and corals types can thrive unmolested. It my nope that as these zones grow, they will be given government protections, and a regional specie relocation program could be established island-wide to protect endangered specie types. I firmly believe that all hatcheries and grow-out operations should be required to raising 70%-80% of their overall specie type stock consumption. It is my intention to exceed those numbers. Probably just a silly pipe-dream now, but at the rate of exploitation now? Maybe not for long.

   Start next post I will start talking about the seafaring smorgasbord or squidgy-wiggles we share with the darling sea-bugs at our table.