Butanding!!!
Butanding means “whale shark” in Tagolog. Interestingly enough, butanding are neither whales, nor are they sharks. They are in fact a fish. But not just any fish. Butanding are the largest fish in the world, and currently they are a threatened species. A full grown butanding can be anywhere from 5 to 12 meters (15 to 36 feet) in length. They are primarily vegetarians, feeding on algae and plankton. Lucky for us, algae and plankton need sunlight to grow, and so butanding must ascend to the surface to feed. Though they do not fully surface, they rise high enough for us to see their big bodies skimming as close as a meter from the surface. And that is the only way to find a butanding – to look for its large, mysterious shadow lurking out in the open sea.
Maria, Sarah, Virginia and I boarded our boat “Sandy” at around 9:15am this morning. Our butanding interaction leader was Joon, a local Donsol man of the sea: skin like leather, quiet and serious. We sailed around for nearly an hour until our spotter pointed straight ahead yelling something in Tagolog, and we took off at full speed. In one of the best adrenaline rushes I’ve ever experienced, I threw on my mask and snorkel and ran to the prow, sitting where Joon pointed on the side of the boat. Then I realized I forgot my fins. In a screaming panic (the fun kind), I ran back and grabbed my fins, turned and ran back to the portside prow, hastily pulled on my fins, and looked to Joon for the okay to go. He looked at me and smiled, as I had done all of this with my mask on and the snorkel still in my mouth.
And then I realized his mask was hanging from his neck and his fins were sitting next to him. And so we sat and waited. Meanwhile, other boats beat us to the spot. At least 2 dozen people were in the water, kicking, flailing, yelling. We continued to look to Joon. He made no movement, so neither did we, but that was very difficult to do because every part of me wanted to jump in and see my butanding. But one thing I’ve started to learn in my travels is to trust the locals. And so I trusted Joon.
Seconds later the dozens of people in the water were high fiving, laughing, and exclaiming excitement to their friends and families in so many different languages I couldn’t distinguish them. But we sat on the side of the boat wondering why we couldn’t go in. Joon didn’t say a word. We left the group of boats and puttered around the area for a few minutes. The four of us looked at each other, shrugged, and thought, oh well. We went back to our benches silently. We sat. The boat putzed around. We figured we still had 2 hours left, so while we thought it best to give up on that butanding, we remained hopeful we’d find another.
Just as we settled into search mode, Joon put his mask on. We ran to the side of the boat, and this time we were able to see the shadow ourselves. I was about to jump, but Joon didn’t move. Our driver positioned the boat, and while it was still moving forward, Joon jumped in and was swooshed to the back of the boat. Then Virginia, then Maria…each disappearing in half a second… then Sarah, then me.
I hit the water at a diagonal and was thrown back to the stern of the boat so fast that once I came up I had no idea where I was. I saw some fins and snorkels and took off swimming as fast as I could. Visibility was low, and I was last in line. Other boats were arriving, and people were dropping in quickly. I kept swimming, straight ahead. I saw nothing but cloudy water, a fin, bubbles, and then suddenly the fin swerved to the left and there I was, face to face with a butanding! It seemed to appear out of nowhere: wide, gray, and flat, like a hovercraft. It was flying through the water. It lasted only a second I’m sure, but it felt like longer to me. I watched it swim beneath me, no more than a meter below me. I could have touched it had I wanted.
Then it was over. People were everywhere, and they were all swimming right at me. They were trying to follow it, and I realized I needed to turn around and go with the flow, so I did. We followed it for about 30 seconds until it finally grew annoyed with the obnoxious humans and descended as quickly and gracefully as a submarine. It was invisible within 3 seconds.
We got back on the boat, dried off, drank water, and thanked Joon, who simply nodded. Then nearly an hour and a half went by. Sarah and I discussed the possibilities of parallel universes, telepathy, and the existence of god. Stimulating conversation indeed…and while sailing the waters off the coast of the Philippines looking for whale sharks no less! But after a while, I realized we’d seen no butanding, and I decided that we as a group needed to focus ourselves on the task at hand by singing to the butanding. Sarah even constructed a haiku that went like this:
Whale shark, Butanding
All I want to do is look.
Come up! Plankton's fine.
I grew increasingly determined to swim for a significant period of time with a whale shark. So I stood at the prow eagerly looking for the shadow. The others had given up. But the songs, the haiku, and my silent pleading must have worked because around 15 minutes before we were supposed to head in, our spotter pointed. This time I knew exactly what to do. I waited for my cue, and then I jumped in, swam in the direction of the whale shark, turned around as soon as I saw his face, and swam hard. I was in the front of the pack, and the butanding was right below me. I could see the small fish swimming in front of his face and on the sides near his gills. For about 30 seconds I swam with him, and though there may have been people close behind me, I didn’t sense them, and so it felt like I was swimming with him all by myself. It was a fascinating experience because I felt both invigorated and peaceful at the same time.
We had 8 more interactions (one lasting 5 minutes!), all led by Joon whose quiet way we grew to love and trust so deeply that we did nothing without him (no jumping in without Joon, no drinking water unless Joon drinks water, no swimming without Joon, no celebration after a whale shark interaction without Joon). I don't think he ever said a word to us, but I think he liked us too. None of us ever lost the sense of excitement or awe of swimming with a whale shark. Over the course our 6 hours at sea with Joon, we perfected the craft of swimming with the whale shark, and after 10 total interactions, we were pros.
Butanding are beautiful creatures: gentle, peaceful, graceful, shy, humble, and patient. It was a divine experience, and I cannot wait for my next awe inspiring adventure with nature.
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| This one was about 5 meters (15 feet), so it's a small one...but it's still AWESOME |
Maria, Sarah, Virginia and I boarded our boat “Sandy” at around 9:15am this morning. Our butanding interaction leader was Joon, a local Donsol man of the sea: skin like leather, quiet and serious. We sailed around for nearly an hour until our spotter pointed straight ahead yelling something in Tagolog, and we took off at full speed. In one of the best adrenaline rushes I’ve ever experienced, I threw on my mask and snorkel and ran to the prow, sitting where Joon pointed on the side of the boat. Then I realized I forgot my fins. In a screaming panic (the fun kind), I ran back and grabbed my fins, turned and ran back to the portside prow, hastily pulled on my fins, and looked to Joon for the okay to go. He looked at me and smiled, as I had done all of this with my mask on and the snorkel still in my mouth.
And then I realized his mask was hanging from his neck and his fins were sitting next to him. And so we sat and waited. Meanwhile, other boats beat us to the spot. At least 2 dozen people were in the water, kicking, flailing, yelling. We continued to look to Joon. He made no movement, so neither did we, but that was very difficult to do because every part of me wanted to jump in and see my butanding. But one thing I’ve started to learn in my travels is to trust the locals. And so I trusted Joon.
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| Here's our boat coming to pick us up after a swim on the 2nd day. I put this picture in for 2 reasons: to see the spotter, and to see the name of our boat the 2nd day (Chris Lambert...hahaha...the guy from Highlander) |
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| Getting geared up! |
Seconds later the dozens of people in the water were high fiving, laughing, and exclaiming excitement to their friends and families in so many different languages I couldn’t distinguish them. But we sat on the side of the boat wondering why we couldn’t go in. Joon didn’t say a word. We left the group of boats and puttered around the area for a few minutes. The four of us looked at each other, shrugged, and thought, oh well. We went back to our benches silently. We sat. The boat putzed around. We figured we still had 2 hours left, so while we thought it best to give up on that butanding, we remained hopeful we’d find another.
Just as we settled into search mode, Joon put his mask on. We ran to the side of the boat, and this time we were able to see the shadow ourselves. I was about to jump, but Joon didn’t move. Our driver positioned the boat, and while it was still moving forward, Joon jumped in and was swooshed to the back of the boat. Then Virginia, then Maria…each disappearing in half a second… then Sarah, then me.
I hit the water at a diagonal and was thrown back to the stern of the boat so fast that once I came up I had no idea where I was. I saw some fins and snorkels and took off swimming as fast as I could. Visibility was low, and I was last in line. Other boats were arriving, and people were dropping in quickly. I kept swimming, straight ahead. I saw nothing but cloudy water, a fin, bubbles, and then suddenly the fin swerved to the left and there I was, face to face with a butanding! It seemed to appear out of nowhere: wide, gray, and flat, like a hovercraft. It was flying through the water. It lasted only a second I’m sure, but it felt like longer to me. I watched it swim beneath me, no more than a meter below me. I could have touched it had I wanted.
Then it was over. People were everywhere, and they were all swimming right at me. They were trying to follow it, and I realized I needed to turn around and go with the flow, so I did. We followed it for about 30 seconds until it finally grew annoyed with the obnoxious humans and descended as quickly and gracefully as a submarine. It was invisible within 3 seconds.
 |
| You can just barely see the little fish at the bottom of the picture. These little fish were always swimming next to the whale sharks gills or near their mouths. They have a very sweet, symbiotic relationship with each other. They look like the butanding's little posse. |
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| A propeller got this guy's fin, which is really sad. |
Whale shark, Butanding
All I want to do is look.
Come up! Plankton's fine.
 |
| Sarah and I stop our philosophizing to pose for a picture! |
I grew increasingly determined to swim for a significant period of time with a whale shark. So I stood at the prow eagerly looking for the shadow. The others had given up. But the songs, the haiku, and my silent pleading must have worked because around 15 minutes before we were supposed to head in, our spotter pointed. This time I knew exactly what to do. I waited for my cue, and then I jumped in, swam in the direction of the whale shark, turned around as soon as I saw his face, and swam hard. I was in the front of the pack, and the butanding was right below me. I could see the small fish swimming in front of his face and on the sides near his gills. For about 30 seconds I swam with him, and though there may have been people close behind me, I didn’t sense them, and so it felt like I was swimming with him all by myself. It was a fascinating experience because I felt both invigorated and peaceful at the same time.
We had 8 more interactions (one lasting 5 minutes!), all led by Joon whose quiet way we grew to love and trust so deeply that we did nothing without him (no jumping in without Joon, no drinking water unless Joon drinks water, no swimming without Joon, no celebration after a whale shark interaction without Joon). I don't think he ever said a word to us, but I think he liked us too. None of us ever lost the sense of excitement or awe of swimming with a whale shark. Over the course our 6 hours at sea with Joon, we perfected the craft of swimming with the whale shark, and after 10 total interactions, we were pros.
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| With Joon after our 5 minute swim. As you can see, we are all extremely happy, even Joon! |
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