Goat Island from a distance

TINIAN — If there is one place in the CNMI that I really wanted to visit, it is this little strip of an island about five miles southwest of Tinian.

You get a glimpse of Goat Island or Aguigan when the plane makes a turn and prepares for landing at the Tinian airport.

Months back, some friends from Tinian who had been to the island made tentative plans and invited me to camp overnight on Goat Island, an invitation that I knew I could and would never refuse despite the impossible challenges that came with the invitation: swimming against the strong ocean currents or waiting for the right moment when the boat tilts toward the steep cliffside which is the only access to the island then making a jump for it.

None of the options were appealing but I knew that I was willing to brave that jump if I had to since swimming was out of the question. My friend said sharks abound around the island — and they were not the shy type.

On a clear afternoon last week, I got a good view of Goat Island from Tachogna Beach. Using my zoom lens, I saw nothing but incredible steep cliffs extending from one end of the island to the other. My lens were not powerful enough to see the feral goats and birds that are the sole inhabitants of the island.

The 2.7 mile Goat Island is reported to the site of the last of the ancient Chamorro resistance to Spanish colonial rule in 1695. My friend said remains of war shelters and other relics from World War II like bombs and shells still litter the island

Dive operators say  some of the best dive spots in the CNMI can be found around Goat Island, but only a few are willing to venture that far because the currents are just too strong and too dangerous even for seasoned swimmers.

A couple of years back, lawmakers on Tinian offered  Goat Island as alternative site for the planned buildup in the Marianas in the wake of increasing opposition on Guam. Then-Tinian Rep. Edwin Aldan also suggested the need to propose a plan to relocate the wild animals and birds to Goat Island so they would be safe when the military buildup started on Tinian.

Our tentative plans went down the drain when one of my buddies went home to the Philippines for good. The plan will now remain a plan, but someday I hope to be able to write another article after I’ve actually set foot on Goat Island.

Goat Island from a distance | around-the-island.

Of bunkers, tankers and pillboxes

FOR someone who has been here all his or her life, or have stayed for decades here, the structures that you can see scattered all over the islands are just old and buried slabs of cement piled on top of each other with steel bars sticking out, but these Japanese bunkers and pillboxes are one of the unique attractions that draws thousands of tourists each year.
Drive around this scenic island and you will see these remnants, reminders of a bloody war that took place here almost 70 years ago—from Saipan International Airport, Susupe, Beach Road, Marpi Road, Last Command Post in Marpi, Naftan Point, and everywhere else on Tinian and Rota.
I had the chance to experience what it feels to be inside one of the bunkers at the airport one afternoon, trying to imagine Japanese soldiers firing from the shelter of these sturdy concrete structures.
Situated among colorful blooms of Flame Trees, you will not think of guns being fired to and from that point, except for the large bullet holes on the sides of the bunker which serves as actual testimonies of the direct hits from the American tanks.
The nearest I got inside a Japanese Pillbox was the one in Chulu or Starsands Beach on Tinian. Like other pillboxes, it is half-buried in the sand with a rifle slit but I just peered through. Being claustrophobic, I dared not creep through the roots that have grown over part of the entrance.
One of the most popular pillboxes on Saipan is at the grassy area of the American Memorial Park. It offers easy access to anyone who wants to get a closer look. Kids play around and climb over it all the time.
The half-submerged tank at the Invasion Beach in Susupe is one of my favorites. Sitting frozen in an action for attack, this tank gets frequent visits from swimmers which I always find an interesting subject to take photos of.
These Japanese bunkers, tankers and pillboxes are just among the artifacts of war that littered the islands of Saipan, Tinian and Rota. Nestled among thick jungles, roadsides and anywhere else are other relics such as rusting hulks from aircraft, helmets, weapons and other tools of war—relics that plays an important role to remind everybody that these beautiful islands were once the site of one of the bloodiest battles of the Pacific.

Rough drive to Sabana

ROTA—Driving up the crest of Mt. Sabana on Rota will lead you to one of the island’s attractions that get a fair share of tourists each year—a 12mm cannon strategically located at below and cliff and aimed toward the sea.
It was past five in the afternoon and the sun was making its trip down the horizon faster than we would have wanted to.
I and a friend were driving up the rugged road leading to Mt. Sabana, wanting to see the whole island from the highest point 1,600 feet above and hoping to catch a glimpse of a deer or two along the way, too.
We stopped for a few minutes to quickly take photos of an old Japanese cannon along the way, a quick stop that ate about half an hour of our budget.
Arriving at the gate of Sabana, we slowed to a stop to read a sign which sent our spirits spiraling down. The gate will be closed at 5:30 p.m. and will be reopened at 7 a.m. the following day.
The daring part of me wanted to take the risk to drive on, hoping that the gatekeeper would fail to close the gate that night but my companion said he wouldn’t want to spend the night slapping mosquitoes in the cold mountain or walk the whole way back. We can creep under the gate of course, but we have to leave the car behind and there was no signal so calling for rescue is out of the question.
The drive up to Sabana in broad daylight is a challenge by itself, but driving up in the growing darkness doubles the challenge. There is always the threat of a tire going flat and having no spare, or the car breaking down with no means of rescue as very few cars go up there.
We played it safe and drove back to Songsong in the growing darkness, a little bit disappointed because I was not able to see the Sabana Peace Memorial located at the peak of Mt. Sabana constructed to honor the Japanese soldiers who lost their lives on Rota during World War II, the remains of the man-made rock wall and the site where Japanese Command had once taken place during the war, sites which I have only seen photos of. No deer also crossed our path.
Mt. Sabana is a conservation area under Rota’s local law 9-1. The cool mountain provides a natural habitat for the wildlife and medicinal plants, serves as an area for subsistence farming, and is one of the tourist attractions.
Rota has still so much to offer in addition to its heady mix of natural scenery, crystal clear waters and white, sandy beaches, lush forests, World War 11 memorabilia, friendly people and more—all squeezed into this pocket-sized paradise half an hour away from Saipan by air. When on Rota, try driving up to Mt. Sabana but do it during daytime and have better luck than us.

Afternoon inside an abandoned World War 2 structure

THERE is more to spiders and piles of dust that has accumulated through the years when you enter this abandoned building that has played a big role during the second World War on Tinian.
Driving by this abandoned two-storey building at the North Field of Saipan will give you the creeps, as though you can expect to see someone peering from one of those windows anytime but venturing inside is another story. The sun was fast making its way down the horizon when I and two friends from Tinian stepped into the cemented door of the building some weeks back.
Dodging cobwebs and spiders that scuttled off to safety upon our arrival, we stood for a few minutes just inside the door of the building, getting the feel of the place. My imagination was working wildly as we picked our way and explored the empty rooms, our footsteps echoing through the stairs and corridors.
Climbing the two flights of stairs to the second floor, we explored all the rooms, glorying in the silently eerie atmosphere that you can only get in abandoned buildings but without the fear of stepping into something that will send us falling into the ground below because the building, made of sturdy construction materials, holds the promise of staying around for the next century.
Used for inter-island communication by the Japanese during those years of war, the Radio Communication Building at the North Field of Tinian was recently used by a ranch as a slaughterhouse but abandoned it later.
I imagined how those now-empty rooms served a big role during the war, bustling with activities as soldiers manned various equipment and communication tools for sending important messages from and to Tinian.
Light pouring through the huge open windows of the building serves as natural light to guide the tourists and locals who visit the place.
So rich in history, the Radio Communication Building is among the most-visited tourist attractions on Tinian, drawing hundreds of visitors from all parts of the world each year.

Out with the tide

A DELIGHTFUL respite from the daily grind of life in this beautiful island would not require one to spend thousands of dollars for an exotic vacation far away. You can have a vacation right where you are, with freedom to choose between short breaks of an hour or two or a whole day— it’s all up to you but you keep your eyes and senses open to discover places that people from other places would give a lot for.
A short drive to the far right end of the Smiling Cove Marina one afternoon some days back gave me another spot to write about and share to people who are thinking that there’s nothing interesting in this island anymore.
The tide was out when I and my roommate ventured into the dried out sea bed. I had been to this area several times before, but it was my first time to be there when there was barely any water on the sea at all. I grabbed the chance to explore the other side of the island. With my flimsy sandals, I picked my way slowly among the sharp rocks and corals, pausing every now and then to snap pictures of anything that catches my attention.
Seaweeds which look like small dark patches when the water is high bent to the seafloor as low as they could, soaking up whatever water was left.

The extreme humidity forgotten, I got lost in time as I looked up and gazed at one of the most beautiful sights Saipan has to offer during these times. Against a spectacular backdrop of blue skies and seas, blossoming flame trees dotting the hills completed the picture, making it look like this part of Saipan was in flames, a photographer’s delight.
There was no other sign of life from where I was standing, save for a few crabs scurrying to their holes and some fish stranded in little pools of water and among      the thick seaweeds whose splashes I tried in vain to capture with my camera.
Birds swooping to catch a fish or two from the water added to the beauty of the afternoon. Soon, the tide started coming back, so fast indeed that before I knew it, the spot where I was standing minutes earlier was already covered in water. Returning to the shore to sit on a fallen log, I saw the seaweeds standing up and springing back to life, once again looking like patches of small dark islands as always. Life has returned to normal for the sea creatures, breaking the brief respite they enjoyed when the tide was out.
This island still has so much to offer if you look at it with a new perspective. After all, the best things in life are still free.

Tranquility at an abandoned park

ROTA — Delightfully situated on a prime spot along the coastal road just before you enter Songsong is one paradise that you should not miss when you’re here —  Pinatang Park.

It is a huge boulevard with an entrance made of cement but designed to look like natural logs and intricate woodwork.

The gate leads straight to a long arch bridge connecting to a smaller island, a small park complete with a pool and spiraling water slides, picnic tables and benches and other amenities that makes up what perfect picnics areas should be.

I stopped by Pinatang Park one cloudy afternoon a couple of months back, drawn to the sense of peacefully quiet but scenic park overlooking the ocean and bordered by islets that serve as natural fences against the giant waves.

I had the whole place to myself and I couldn’t help but conclude that if there is one spot on the beautiful island of Rota that can make you sigh with deep regret, it is this place. Something is missing in this beautiful park —people and sounds of laughter and everything that parks are supposed to be.

The long boulevard stretched endlessly, each slab of cement, posts with missing lights, crumbling or missing balustrades, rusty benches with pieces of steel sticking out, and everything else telling its own sad story.

At the far end of the park, a beautiful cottage/bar or what’s left of it, with round cement stools around it tells its own sad story of glory days gone by, a testimony that this beautiful park has been exposed to fend off for itself against the harsh elements of nature.

A Rota resident said the park requires too much money to maintain and the municipality has no funds for it, hence its present state.

Only the profusion of colorful flowers and the chirping birds refuse to acknowledge the fact that the park is left with no one to maintain it, and that visitors can come and go as they please, at their own risk.

I got scared to cross the bridge and explore the other side of  Pinatang Park. I regretted that decision and wouldn’t miss going there if I get another chance to come back to Rota.

Soon, a school bus dropped off some students on the roadside and the silence was broken. One little boy ventured down the stairs to hide from his companions and I couldn’t resist taking a photo of him.

It’s funny but despite the dilapidation and sense of abandonment surrounding the park, I find it appealing and would have stayed longer if not for the huge, fat raindrops that started to pelt on the deserted park. I ran for the car hugging my gear, and with heart still heavy with regret, drove away to Songsong for a late lunch.

Tranquility at an abandoned park | around-the-island.

Cooling off at the Park

LOOKING for a place to cool off and escape from the humid confines of the house drove me and my roommate to this lagoon a few meters beyond the Bell Tower at American Memorial Park on Saturday afternoon.
There’s nothing really spectacular about this place. I’ve been there countless times and taken hundreds of photos in the past three years, except that when we arrived there, I looked at the place with new eyes. The tide was out, and the lagoon was almost dried out.
My roommate immediately headed for a cement bench under the trees while I headed toward the dried out portion of the lagoon and ventured as near to the water as I can, enjoying the tranquility and peace. Watching small crabs scurrying to their holes and trying in vain to capture them on lens was an impossible feat which kept me occupied for the next half hour.
A solitary fisherman was throwing his line in the water a few meters from where I was kneeling in the sand, casting surreptitious glances at me each time I took a stolen shot at him while waiting for fish to eat his bait.
The tide was slowly coming in, and the sun was getting low in the horizon. Reflected in the calm waters was a spectacular profusion of colors—the skies turning into a reddish-orange haze, the blossoming flame trees, and the gently swaying yachts moored at the dock was a photographer’s dream.
Forgetting the fisherman, my fingers got busy with the shutter as I tried to capture the spectacular view before me. Some minutes and a splash later, I turned and caught the fisherman haul in a squirming, medium-size fish from his pole, in time to capture it all in the lens.
Soon, it was getting dark and water had trickled back filling almost half of the lagoon. Loud music and laughter started to pour out from one of the yachts signaling the start of a party at the Smiling Cove, shattering the tranquility I was enjoying earlier.
I packed my gear and found my roommate on his knees absorbed in a school of small fish trapped in a pool of water under the bridge.
If you have stayed here for several decades or most of your life, you may have taken what nature offers for granted and say that “it has always been and will always be there” but try to get out sometime and you will get some pleasant surprises.