One night on Forbidden Island

THE word “forbidden” kept ringing in my ears as I frantically grabbed footholds and handholds among the sharp, jutting rocks. It was getting dark and I was trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking of my knees and the rising fear that one false step could send me hurtling down the steep cliffs resulting in serious injury, or even my end.

We were on Forbidden Island on the east coast of Saipan, shoes and jeans dripping from the knee-high water we had to wade through to reach it.

I had thought about  visiting the area for the past two years and so there I was, finally. Our group split into two, the more daring ones going up to follow the eagle trail while the others followed the almost equally hard turtle trail set by hashers Dan and Eric.

After an eternity of hardship, the leader who was ahead of us shouted “dead end” and we started the more agonizing trek back.

Forbidden Island provides the daring with a stunning view, great snorkeling nooks, pristine hidden pools and a cave.

But in the falling darkness, it looked eerie, devoid of any form of life save for the bird and a few plants that were able to tough it out.

I looked at Forbidden Island with a new perspective. It’s different when you just look at it from the view deck above than when you explore it and come back with blue, red and violet bruises on your hands, arms and legs, and knowing panic when you see your buddies fall on the sharp rocks and get up with huge bloody gashes on their legs.
The trek to  Forbidden Island is quite challenging and is not for everyone, especially those who are afraid to fall or who have fear of heights.

Going down, you have to hold on to pieces of ropes tied on tree branches or stumps, or grab stones for footholds and handholds which could roll down any minute. You have to find the trail amid tall tangan-tangan and thick bushes.

The dying embers from our bonfire cast an eerie glow as we gathered our things to leave the  area at past 9 p.m.

We still had to survive the upward trail, with only flashlights to guide us back to the parking lot. We left the site with the waves in their seemingly endless race against each other, crashing into the rocky shores.

It’s been six days since then and I still feel the muscle pains, but it was worth it. If you haven’t been to Forbidden Island yet, you’re missing a lot. (This article was first published HERE.

Revisiting Sugar King Park

Statue of Matsue Haruji at the Sugar King Park, Saipan.

EXCEPT for a lone individual who was reading a newspaper near the preserved sugar train, the Sugar King Park was deserted late one Friday afternoon when I dropped by to unwind for a few minutes.
Located across from the CNMI Museum in Garapan, the Sugar King Park is one of the tourist attractions on Saipan that gets a fair share of visitors, particularly Japanese.
You may have passed the park everyday and took its presence for granted but try to drop by sometime and allow its history to charm you.
The park is perfect to spend a lazy afternoon and relax on one of the comfortable benches under the shade of huge, moss-covered trees.
If you are up to it, you can explore the nature trail that winds through a forest and a hill just above the Katori Jinja shrine at the far end of the park. Following the trail takes about 20 minutes.
Remembering a documentary I’ve seen before, I tried to envision what Saipan looked like during the years when the sugar industry boomed and became the cash crop of the island.
One memento is left of that era — an old train that used to carry the sugarcane around the island. It is preserved and parked at the front of the park.
A few meters from where I was sitting, the towering statue of the Japanese sugar king Matsue Haruji stood like a sentinel, a solid reminder of his important contribution to the economic success of the island.

Going back
If you read the marker at the foot of the statue, you will learn how Matsue worked hard and persisted to transform the islands from a dense jungle into a production sugar cane plantation.
Matsue, who was born in Fukushima Prefecture in Japan in 1876, studied cube sugar production in Philadelphia and came back to Japan to apply his knowledge. When he succeeded, it started everything for him and he was convinced that the South Seas territories were ideally suited for sugar cane agriculture.
With thousands of workers, he initiated cleaning Saipan’s jungles and made way for planting sugarcane. He persisted until in 1930, he expanded to Tinian and eventually Rota.
Matsue died in 1954 at the age of 78, but his memory lives not only at the Sugar King Park but in these islands.
The sun was already beginning to set when I left the comfort of my bench to rejoin my buddies who were sweating out at the gym nearby.

(First published HERE)

Eerie twilight at a radar tower

IN a small island like Saipan, an individual with a pair of itchy feet must have to double the effort and sharpen his or her to wanderlust senses to scout for new crannies to explore.
As a newcomer to Saipan last year, I was eager and thirsty to explore everything, turning deaf ears to the friendly advice of ‘taking things slowly because you will run out of places to go very soon.’
A buddy who volunteered to give me a tour of the northern part of the island a few months back drove me in his convertible past the abandoned La Fiesta Mall. Dusk was falling when we turned right and went up to the road in As Matuis. Tight-lipped, my guide would not say where we were going but just drove on and up the paved winding roads, crushing several land crabs on the way.
After several more twists and turns in the road, we came to a stop on top of a hill. I stayed in the car for a few minutes, observing the surroundings and enjoying the silence of nature disrupted only by the chirping of crickets. Suddenly, I saw the structure – an imposing tower standing tall and proud in the deepening darkness. It felt eerie and I half-expected a soldier from the World War 11 to emerge from the bushes.
My companion then told me that the radar tower is the former Pacific Barrier Radar (PACBAR 111) Facility which was originally installed on the Space Tracking ship USNS General H.H. Arnold.
Information from the internet told me that the radar was constructed to provide coverage for space surveillance for a blind area between two other radar stations — the PACBAR I (ALTAIR) at Kwajalein, and PACBAR II (GPS-10) located in the Philippine Islands. It was designed to detect and track foreign missile launches.
We did not stay long in the area but I vowed to come back. And I did, a few weeks ago but this time, in broad daylight.
It feels exhilarating to drive up during the day and see everything clearly — the scenic view below, and finally the radar tower. Gone was the eerie feeling I felt when I went up the first time. In daylight, the tower was just an old structure that has fallen prey to decay and rust from abandonment, but it is one place which carries part of the island’s rich history. Try visiting the place one time, and if you’re daring, do it at twilight.

This article was first published HERE

Stargazing from the cliffs

FOR the daring, one ideal spot on Saipan where you can hang out on a star-filled night to commune with nature and gaze at stars to your heart’s content is the Banzai Cliff in Marpi.
Although majority would immediately cross out such choice of location and opt instead to spread a mat on any of the beaches to stargaze, you will find the thrill of the experience more rewarding than what you expect.
Driving to the Banzai Cliffs at night requires a double dose of courage because for one, the place has no signal. If your car breaks down, good luck because you will have to wait until somebody drives over to help you. Two, visiting Banzai Cliff at night is a totally different thing when you go there at night. The figures look eerie especially with no lights.
The first time I went there at 11 in the evening I lost courage and immediately asked my companion to make a U-turn and drive back to the main road. It was so dark windy. My imagination played havoc during the few minutes we were there so that the howling winds resembled like agonized cries from individuals in pain. You could not stop your hair from rising up. I waited for another chance to go back and it came a couple of weeks ago.
This time, I was with three companions. It was just 10 p.m. and a zillion stars lit up the sky. Gone was the eerie feeling and the cries I heard on my first night visit to the place. The statues and cement structures look less ominous.
Every now and then, a car drives up filled with tourists who stay for a few minutes before leaving.
Reclining on the hood of the car, I spent a very relaxing hour or two swapping horror stories with my companions, recalling lessons from my Girl Scout days and trying to identify starts and constellations.
From the distance, the Suicide Cliffs loomed in the semi-darkness, the trees forming gruesome figures trying to extend their claws. The cool wind added mystique to the night but it was one experience where I left totally refreshed and relaxed.
Midnight struck and we had to leave the statues, the huge rolling waves below the cliffs, the cement structures and the whole place which had been the mute witness to the grim deaths of thousands of Japanese soldiers over six decades ago.
On a starlit night, try gazing at the stars from the Banzai Cliff. It’s one experience of a lifetime.

(Originally published HERE)

Going underwater at Managaha Island

Managaha Island
Photos by Kotaro Tsujino

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale, exhale! C’mon you can do it. Practice breathing through your mouth!
This was the first time I was given breathing lessons and I was finding it hard with the mask on my face, over two pounds weight tied to my waist and an oxygen tank strapped to my back.
Two dive instructors from the Aquaconnections dive shop checked our progress as they gave me and my three office mates Jeanette, Arnold and Andrew a crash course in scuba diving. I had wanted to try diving for a long time but always backed out at the thought that I would be required to learn how to swim first.
There I was, drowsy after a leisurely lunch and dragging my heavy body into the pristine waters of Managaha Island one Saturday afternoon, asking myself if I could really do it.
I had visions of taking Scuba Diving 101 and undergo hours of classroom instruction where we will be introduced into the different diving gear and their uses and be given time to practice wearing them on dry land before being launched into the water. I had tried snorkeling a couple of times in Davao and in Palau but snorkeling was different.
But there we were, doing a few minutes of underwater breathing exercises and before we knew it, our instructors were guiding us deeper beneath the huge waves, holding onto the ropes to stay together.
For first timers, we sure picked up a windy day where strong currents make diving difficult but we didn’t know that yet. We held on to the ropes as lifelines as we edged our way down into the deep. (well, not that deep at 8 feet, but for a non-swimmer like me, it sure was deep!)
Our instructors monitored us, checking if we were doing okay and gauging our breathing by the bubbles we made. We had to give them the “ok” signal with our hands from time to time.
I was exhilarated thinking I was actually scuba diving when suddenly, everything went dark and all I saw were strands of dark floating things covering my mask. I forgot to breathe through my mouth and I then remembered that I was a non-swimmer. What was I doing underwater when I can’t even float a meter’s distance? Panicking, I flailed my arms and tried to surface. A dive instructor immediately assisted me and pushed me to the surface where huge waves tossed me around. He told me to relax and turned me face up on the water as I took in huge gulps of air. I realized my hair had gone loose and covered my mask but after I fixed my hair, I assured my instructor I was definitely going down again.

I forgot all kinds of fear when we reached our destination. Multi-colored fishes swam toward us and around a bed of corals we couldn’t help but reach out to touch them. Everything was just
beautiful.

We stayed down for about 25 minutes before our dive instructors signaled us to go back. It was a first experience which just spurred my interest to go diving again.

Completing our scuba diving experience was photographer and diving instructor Kotaro Tsujino of Underwater Adventures who documented our first attempts at diving. Tsujino said he had been photographing and taking underwater video of divers for several years, including events like underwater weddings. He can be contacted at 670-322-0599 or email him at otanog@pticom.com.
Our dive instructors from the Aquaconnections were Youme Sharry and Takehiro Fukuya but they have two other instructors—Tohru Narita and Donato Beside. You can visit www.saipan-aquaconnections.com or email them at aquainc@pticom.com for more information.

Diving at Managaha Island is indeed an experience you would like to do again and again!

To get to Managaha Island, call Tasi Tours & Transportation Inc. at (670) 234-7148, fax (670) 235-7141 or email managahatasi@tasitours.com.

This article was first published HERE

Relaxing by the beach

IF you are one of the beach bums who thinks that a day out is never complete without taking a dip in the warm waters of the sea, this beach is just the perfect place for you.
PauPau beach, located right next to Palms Resort Saipan and across the now-closed La Fiesta Mall in the northern part of Saipan is a haven for beach lovers.
The long, sandy beach provides an ideal setting where families with kids or anybody else can have fun. You can stretch and sunbathe on the sand, snorkel in the crystal clear waters, swim, fish, or just hang around.
As a bonus, trees growing on the beach offer lots of shaded areas where you can bring a beach chair and catch up with your reading. Better yet, you can experience total bliss by hanging a hammock and drifting off to dreamland to the gentle crooning of the waves.
Picnic pavilions and a playground add to the convenience of the beach.
Saipan has so many beaches you can choose from to spend your next day off. You can go to isolated beaches that you can have all to yourself or make you feel shut out from the whole world. You can also go to beaches that provide total adventure.
PauPau beach is one which gives the impression of being some place “away from it all” but it is just a few steps away from the main road.
When you get some time off, drop by PauPau beach and pamper yourself to break the monotony of work.

A morning hike to Naftan Point

5 a.m. The shrill ringing of the alarm clock jolted me from an hour’s sleep on Saturday morning, and I had to drag protesting muscles up to get ready for a trek to another one of Saipan’s famous hiking destinations.
Hiking to Naftan Point, says our trek organizer Jacob, would take only about 20 minutes from his cousin’s house. We started walking in the darkness toward this historical spot at the southernmost part of Saipan, but it was only after almost an hour later when we reached the Hawaiian Rock where the real trek began. Talk about 20 minutes!
As the sun began its ascent to the skies, my energy level was slowly beginning to drain, not to mention that there was actually none to start with.
We plodded on, asking over and over how far do we have to go and agonizing over the thought of the way back until we finally emerged through a clearing and stepped into a whole new world.
A spectacular panorama was before us but an eerie silence seems to pervade the place. It felt as though we were intruders into another world.

Naftan Point is an enchanting rugged terrain, with grass-covered corals, steep cliffs, numerous caves, plateaus, bushes and more ruins and relics from the World War 2. From a distance, the Forbidden Island seemed to issue a silent but daring invitation to anyone who would want to challenge its name. Over 50 feet below the sharp cliff lines, the thunderous noises created by the crashing waves would make one think twice before standing on the cliffs’ edge.

Hiking to Naftan Point without proper ammunition (a.k.a. camera and tripod) would be unforgivable because the place is a photographer’s dream. It was not that easy to pick your way through the sharp stones and rocks concealed by the untrimmed grasses though. One wrong step and the corals you are stepping on could crack. I did not have the chance to go near the very edge of the cliffs because aside from my progress being hampered by the tripod, I had second thoughts about gambling my life and my camera from the edge. After a few quick bites of tuna sandwiches and sips of water, we took a few minutes of rest but our time was running out. With only the shelter from the huge rock, we know it would not be long before the shade would be gone as the sun gets higher.
We found an old Japanese canon in one of the ruined bunkers at Naftan Point, along with several other war relics. I could just imagine the war when the canon spewed death fumes all the way to Tinian.
We finally started our way back. And that was when everything turned awry.
Two of my companions—Jeanette and Fe went ahead of the group. The six of us followed, but Jacob got other ideas and led us into a “short cut”, which we hesitantly took. But anyway, any change in the road seemed welcome so we followed the leader. However, the road we were following seemed to be going in circles and we seemed to be walking endlessly. When we began to see pink flowers on the vines along the road, I began to guess that the trail we were following was leading to Obyan Beach, much much farther from our car. I was dreadfully right.
We plodded on and reached the end of the shady trail. Suddenly, a dusty, winding road shimmering in the noonday heat stretched out before us. Obyan Beach was a few miles below, and I knew there was no choice but to force my over-tired body to move on.
It was not easy for somebody like me whose only exercise everyday is to go up the stairs of the office or the Superior Court. Imagine walking up the Obyan Road toward the direction of Hawaiian Rock under the 11 o’clock sun, with not a single tree or shade in sight. I was at the farthest rear of the group, trying to concentrate in putting one foot ahead of the other to walk on.
With every dragging, agonizing step I took, my camera seemed to grow heavier and it took real effort to stay awake and not give in to the darkness that threatened to envelop me. After over an hour of fighting the urge to cry, I finally convinced buddy Andrew to seek some shade in the bushes. Under ordinary circumstances, I would never imagine going into those bushes. Andrew volunteered to spread his towel to cover the sharp bushes so we could sit on for a while. Just when I felt so helpless, I got a call that a car was coming for us. I could have kissed the car’s wheels with joy!
Naftan Point has still so much to offer and we missed much, but I would love to go back anytime. Minus the unplanned miles of hiking.

This article was first published HERE