25/11/2025
La Routa 2025 Story Dump: Day 1 - Of Unbiased Seas and Difficult Trade-Offs
Despite having spent a lot of time in reefs and oceans, La Routa's ocean segment just lived true to its character: unemotional, unbiased, unpredictable.
Flag-off found us struggling to reach our passport lodged at the top of a greasy bamboo pole. The classic Filipino challenge, Palo Sebo, proved a disadvantage to the Filipino height, but starting a race with such a heart-racing untrainable game was nothing short of creative.
Running from the heart of the province to the coastlines of Naval, we found ourselves one of the last teams to choose local fishing boats to transport us to an island control point. And despite having experienced paddlers in the team, a small outrigger boat became the first test of both skill and intellect.
Two pairs: me and Noel on a white boat with obvious wear and tear, and Jomil and Paul on a newly painted green boat. Me and Jomil playing the navigator and engine of each boat while the latter be the steersmen. It started out relatively fine until a gap between our two boats started to build. When the green boat started to disappear from our sight, we also noticed the two human figures also disappearing from the waterline - they have sunk!
We paddled all the way back to ensure our team was intact and after a bailing out water, the green boat was back afloat. Well, sort of. They had raised concerns about their boat being very light and wobbly and couldn't handle the weight of two persons and a couple of loaded packs. We went on nonetheless, now realizing we were at the back of the racing pack.
Moments later, the gap started to build again and for the second time, we decided to come back for the green boat and rethink our plans. We have decided to swap steersmen and see if it would change anything. In those moments, another trick of fate unfolded -- the right outrigger snapped! I slowly got off our boat, ensuring to not knock off our balance, and once in the water, swam as quickly as I could to the broken outrigger. Using the supposed towline, a piece of rope and accessory carabiner we were supposed to use to connect the two boats to make sure we don't leave our teammates behind, I made a square lashing to hold the broken outrigger in place.
By then, we knew we had lost so much time. But it was only the morning of day one and we thought we had a lot of chances to catch up. We paddled on, inching our way but the island didn't seem to move closer at all. Once out in the open channel, a fishing boat warned us "hinay-hinay na mo kay kusog sulog! limas na lang ang usa!" (paddle slowly as the current is picking up. one person should just keep bailing out water).
We did as told but our tiny improvised tabo, a zonrox bleach bottle cut in half, could barely catch up with the splashing water from the incoming waves. In just a few seconds we had sunk, all our belongings floating on the water as I quickly latched on to everything I can: the paddle, my backpack, and the two pairs of swimcap and goggles we had placed on the boat in case we needed them.
In those split seconds I had so many thoughts rushing: Has any of our belongings sunk to the bottom of the sea? Is the boat gonna stay floating? Is the current going to wash us off to the next province (Leyte)? All while all of my fingers gripped on to whatever I can and hoping somebody would come to our rescue.
I just keep recalling to myself how many times I've had near-misses in the ocean and I'm still alive today, so NO, it would be a shame to give up here and now.
After a few minutes, rescue came and explained to us that they can tow us but we get a penalty in return. Looking at our current state, floating in the middle of a raging sea, we didn't have much choice.
The tow was brutal. We were given a towline which I clove-hitched into the bow. I sat on the sunken boat, hugging all our backpacks and loose things, while Paul latched onto one of the outriggers. The rescue boat pulled us to the island and it seemed like it took forever. The incoming waves were like playing rugby with me trying to grab all of our drybags from my loosening grip and I knew that anytime now we could say goodbye to all our gears.
I watched the green boat, still paddling but barely moving through the waves and knew everyone was giving their best just to make it to the next section.
We finally reached the island control point, all the bread we had been saving for snacks have now become a soggy lump of dough. We rehydrated while saying goodbye to the second to the last team. We resecured our gears into our drybags and started the 1 mile swim to main land. This time we had realized we lost one of the goggles during the sink and since I had fins on, I volunteered to swim without goggles.
While leading the swim, Jomil had lost his helmet, probably from a loose buckle. He swam all the way back to the shore while we pushed on, knowing he was our best swimmer. It didn't take long for the choice to not stay as close as possible finally bit us in the ass. We have made such a big gap and with the expanse of the sea and the distraction from incoming waves, we seemed to have traveled in different angles. I kept moving forward, alternating freestyle, sidestroke, backstroke, and skulling all while towing four bags and three helmets. For a moment I was blinded by the reality that the team was struggling, and when offered to be pulled by rescue, I selfishly declined.
I was so certain I would finish this swim. But I was too stubborn to look at the signs - the afternoon changing of tides, the increasing intensity of both underwater current and the surface waves, and the drained energy from our earlier mishaps.
Finally, the rest of the team have succumbed to rescue, while I was the last one trying to fight it but failed. This was a team game. I was the captain and easily failing. I made my mistakes early in the game too and we all pay the dues as a team.
We paid our penalty debts by being held at the control point for a few hours, now in last place, but have had time to eat a meal and recover before starting off the trekking section before darkness set in.
(Xayd)
📷 Photo credits to Aldwin C., La Routa Adventure Race
