By now, sea and atmospheric conditions have cooperated in our
favor with the overcast sky pleasantly improving as we slowly skirted Matukad at
starboard side. Adroitly maneuvering Princess by its tiller, Ramil took a northerly approach to our final
destination. From a distance, a thin
sliver of white patch prominently swathed a portion of the island’s base against a backdrop of exuberant foliage - no
mistaking of the most popular, ballyhooed beach of Caramoan.Upon skipper's direction,
the assistant boatman drew down the anchor as Princess ran aground over soft sand on the beach of Matukad past four PM. We were met by a couple of men apparently familiar to the crew who, according to our tour guide Jay, take turns on a shifting schedule to guard and maintain the island under the joint-payroll of SURVIVOR and town hall. Unlike those pirate-cameos we saw from the last island visited, these men were unarmed, older and delightfully courteous. After introducing themselves as relatives and neighbors of Ramil, the latter made mention of our intention to camp out the night on the island. The
warm reception was affectionately contagious as the men gladly assisted with
our accoutrements. They cautioned us to pitch our tents far off the shore, lest
we risked the dangers of sea snakes that slither inland at night. 
Minute grains of calcium carbonate deposits on the shore created by ageless marine decomposition of corals, seashells and erosion of rocks spanning over half a billion years were enchantingly powdery; our feet treading the very fine sand, nearly immaculate and creamy even under a partly overcast afternoon sky. It can be very glaring white that can easily squint your eyes, I imagine, under a blazing sun of a clear day. Sand connoisseurs by now, the girls examine the white mineral silt underneath their feet and indulged with chaffing the ultra-fine grains in amazement.
It took some time for the men to complete unloading our packs from the boat onto a small clearing that we had chosen, quite a distance, beyond the vegetated periphery of the island. Contained water for cooking and washing made up most of what we brought along. Ramil engaged into some small talk with them about the unpleasant incident in Sabitang Laya where we were confronted by island guards brandishing M16s. One of the watchmen shook his head in disappointment, offering unsolicited apologies to my wife, saying that, unlike those young, overzealous island guards of Sabitang Laya, there was no need for them to show-off - adding that raising such a ruckus was amateurish and kid-like. We respectfully reciprocated with a smile of understanding.
After unpacking our knapsacks, the men assisted pitching
our tents close to their makeshift shelter farther inland. Theirs had an oversized bed made of bamboo splints underneath a thick canvass, layered on its top with a woven mat of wild grass. Its corners were tied with heavy, burly ropes attached to trees forming a sloping roof. Having been monitoring the weather all day through PAGASA (feedback from my staff back in our Manila office), I gathered there was a good chance of some showers in the late evening. So similarly, the island guards assisted me shading our tents with plastic sheets for rain protection later. As soon as the kids saw assistance offered by the watchmen, they halted on their tracks and stopped the bother of helping me out as what had been agreed and rehearsed the previous week. Jubilant, they scampered to the beach for a dip as wifey started on the burner to cook rice. Boarding back on outrigger Princess, Ramil left earlier for his Paniman home on the mainland, a short, ten-minute hop across Matukad island. Upon his suggestion and offer, we ordered one and half kilos of mud crabs cooked in spicy gata (coconut milk extract) that his wife will prepare for our dinner – for three hundred pesos only!
Fantastic place. Eagerly waiting for the next chapter...
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