The Philippines on two wheels - part twelve

Yesterday, Gord and I left shortly before sunrise on a hundred kilometre motorcycle trip to a southern coastal city. Some of the pictures may be worth clicking on.

Our route parallels the Cuernos de Negros ...

... as people set off to work ...

... above paddies ...

... along the shore ...

... past fishermen ...

... farmers ...

... and householders tidying up. That overused 'peace sign' normally drives me batty, but even I can't argue with the smile.

Our destination is Bayawan City (Philippines towns yearn to become large enough to place an official 'City' designation after their name).  Offshore is a vision from Pirates of the Caribbean.

In different light, the fishing boats look less sinister.

Our journey is, in part, to check progress on a boat I'd seen a few weeks earlier. 

The Adomay is a traditional ‘pump boat’, essentially a very large outrigger canoe with links to the Polynesians who sailed vast distances in the Pacific. She will take four months to complete and should be ready for tuna fishing in late December. 

In charge is Juan who's built thirty-seven boats of this size and dozens of smaller ones.

Adomay is, bar a few tools powered via a dodgy cord, handmade

This is where I should extol the nobility of manual labour and skilled craftsmanship. However, given that, in my working life, I avoided anything more arduous than exercising vocal chords and pecking at typewriter keys, I am perhaps not best fitted to do this. Anyway, it’s all pretty impressive.

I'm sorry I won't see Adomay launched for, all being well, a life of fifteen to twenty years.

Along Bayawan's beach are other fishing boats being constructed or, in one case, virtually rebuilt after a recent storm. 

The Apostleship is owned by Domingo Barrientos, once an able seaman on freighters sailing between Canada and Europe. He shakes his head remembering winters on the North Atlantic, cruelest of cruel seas.

After years away, he saved enough to have a little fleet and and, by Bayawan standards. has become a man of some consequence. 

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We've just returned after a two-and-a-half hour, dawn ride, avoiding midday heat, if not suspect paving. I'm a little stiff!

One roadside structure, which made us stop, is the exuberant 'Ragay Residence', with its cheerful 'Welcome Home' on the gates. In Toronto, this would be condemned as vulgar. Here, telling of the owners' lives, it's proud family history - a horizontal concrete totem pole.

I particularly like the farmer and carabao watched closely by a hopeful bird.

Further on, a real carabao. Not especially friendly. 

This morning, Sunday, the road was mostly free of traffic, although dogs and wayward pedestrians presented the usual potential hazards. On the few straight, reasonably smooth stretches, I rediscovered of the narcotic effects of (relative) speed on two wheels, although Philippines roads are probably not the best place on which to experience this.

At one point, my speedometer read 85 kph, although Gord thinks 90. If, sixty-five years old, I'm stupidly tempted to open the throttle - and with so many potential hazards - small wonder at the  kids who kill themselves on these things.