the little island where.

Tuesday,January 4th 2005 6:27am



My last memories of Siargao before September 2004,weren’t actually at Siargao Island itself. It was last year, checking in at Davao Airport on my way to Manila. Lugging 2 boards, a skateboard and a probably way too big backpack through the 20 metre long, fan-blown basic terminal (this was before the new, shmick terminal was opened!). I got to the check-in counter; the man with incredibly thick coke-glass eye glasses looked at me, and then looked down at my boards then looked at me once again. I put my entire luggage onto the scales and the needle spun past the baggage allowance. The coke eyeglasses man looked at me once again and smiled like he’d just won the lottery. He informed me that I had to pay just on AU$1000 for excess baggage because I was checking through to an international flight.

Knowing that my funds were limited (as per usual) I quickly hauled my bags to the side, got my keys, unlocked every bag and started throwing out unnecessary things. I was sweating from the humidity in the terminal, the contents of my bag was flying from left, right and centre. People were either staring or coming up to me and asking various questions about surfing and if I had surfed at Boracay (??). I finally got to the bottom of my bag and found a whole pile of photos, on top of the stack was one photograph which was taken exactly one week beforehand at sunrise on Siargao Island. The photograph was of a group of the local boys paddling out to Cloud 9, nobody else was out yet and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. I sat on the airport floor, cross- legged surrounded by scattered bikinis, board shorts, boards and some books and just stared at the photo and smiled.

I know, I know, it sounds somewhat like some over cliché drama queen thing to be doing at that point of time, but that’s the effect that Siargao Island has had on me ever since I first stepped foot on that mass of earth and sand. If only the security guards understood that though, as they quickly informed me to basically haul ass because I was creating a mess in the airport.
Siargao Island 2004

Phone call back home to my Mum in Australia……
"Hey Mum, I cancelled my flight back home to Oz, won’t be coming home just yet, I have to go to Siargao for the comp"
"OK Mill, I understand. Just enjoy yourself, be careful on the reef and say hello to Marife for me".

People who are close to me don’t question my spontaneity,let alone my obsession with the island anymore, they’ve accepted it and try to support my constant efforts to get to Siargao.Random ramblings about "hey remember that wave at the Rock, man it opened up so much...BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…." seep their way into my conversations, but I guess each time I go there everyone around me is secretly thinking "oh no, not another session of Siargao stories". Having been back from the island for almost 3 weeks now, the ramblings are still fresh.

Destination Nowhere

Walk, taxi, walk, fly, bus, fly, walk, van, pumpboat, ferry, habel-habel, walk and we were finally in our own little piece of paradise.


.....and thats as far as I got.hahahaha.


The palm tree by my window


....back to clicking away at a keyboard & looking out the window at the palm tree that takes me far away,dealing with snooty fashionistas,5-inch thick family tension,that missing feeling that hurts when you're just about to doze off every night,everyday bouts of boredom and moments of unmotivated and uninspired crisis.It's sometimes strange how the comparisons of experiences in our very own lives vary.

I only just found that article,along with a few other journal entries on my cd files today and thought "whoa...".Not that I don't go to my Pbase photo gallery every single day and check out the photos from the Philippines and smile about the memories I've collected over 9 months,but reading these actual words I've written about moments that I've experienced...sometimes it feels like I'm a totally different person,reading somebody elses journal..not my own.

It's been 3months since I was in Siargao and to tell you the honest truth,it still hasn't ALL sunk in yet.I still feel things floating around,some memories have settled in my mind whilst some still continue to float around ready to cement themselves into my memory forever.I go through this process everytime I go away.Its the only way I can paint or write.Ive never been good at drawing or writing on the spot,from what I see or feel in front of me.The majority of my paintings/writing comes from what my memory chooses to remember one month,2 years,5 years after the actual experience happened.And that's how I work,that's how I still continue to work.I guess that's why I didn't get to finish that article at that point of time.Siargao was still fresh,and while things are fresh...I'm still in that moment,still living it.

One thing I can truly write down about what I felt about Siargao 2004 was that I not only left a pair of boardshorts there,but to quote Morcheeba

"left my soul there/down by the sea/lost control here/im living free".

Ive left a part of my heart and soul there with the ocean,the islands,the people,my friends,the experiences been had and that's where I finally found where my happiness is inspired.