Chapter 4
The flight from Hong Kong to Cebu passed very quickly. Joe and his family were refreshed from an overnight stay at a hotel in Hong Kong, and no sooner had they boarded the flight, it seemed, than they were being told to prepare for landing. Much to Joe’s delight, the final part of their journey was to be by sea.
They reached the harbour-side by midday and were shown to their boat. Joe thought it was the weirdest thing he had ever seen! It was very narrow and pointed at both ends, and had several bent wooden poles sticking out from each side, making it look like a giant water boatman. There were four other passengers already sitting under the canopy in the middle, together with a pig and two cockerels that kept fighting.
‘We’re not going on there, are we?’ Aesha was horrified.
‘Unless you’ve learnt to walk on water, yes,’ Peter replied.
‘It’s cool!’ said Joe.
As soon as he had been helped on board, he made for the front and beckoned his family to join him.
‘We can see everything from here,’ he said excitedly.
It was a beautiful warm day. While they waited for the boat to depart, Joe peered over the side to see if he could catch his first glimpse of marine life. A shoal of small brown fish flashed by, so close to the water’s surface that he could have touched them had the sides of the boat been lower. He wondered if there were seahorses deeper down. It gave him a funny feeling to think that a whole world of activity was going on unseen below them.
There was also a whole world of activity on the seafront as the boat’s engine started up. Crowds of children had gathered and were waving cheerfully at them. Binti waved back and Joe and Aesha joined in. Beside them, their father was preparing his video camera. Joe wished he had taken his own camera from his suitcase, which had been stowed on a luggage rack underneath a pile of others. ‘One of the secrets of being a successful photographer,’ Peter had told him more than once, ‘is being ready to snap when the unexpected happens.’
‘What are you going to photograph?’ Joe asked.
‘Children who are as poor as church mice with great big smiles on their faces,’ Peter replied. ‘No mobiles, no laptops, no shoes on their feet, but look at them.’
The children were even happier when they realised they were being filmed. Joe couldn’t help but laugh at their antics as they paraded up and down. The boat began to move away and the children followed along the harbour path, cheering wildly, until it headed out to sea and left them in its wake.
Joe felt exhilarated now. The wind buffeted his face and the spray coated him with salt as the boat sped across the water. He didn’t want to stop – he wanted it to head for the horizon and keep on going.
‘Don’t you wish we had a speedboat, Dad?’ he shouted above the noise of the engine.
‘It wouldn’t be much good in the middle of Surrey,’ his father shouted back.
They passed one island after another, and each time Joe expected them to stop, but it was nearly three hours later before they approached an island and the boat began to slow down.
‘There are more of those weird-looking boats,’ Joe said, pointing to the shore, where there were rows of very narrow colourful hulls, each with the same curious arrangement of poles on either side.
‘They’re called bancas,’ said Peter. ‘Those particular ones are fishing boats, I should think. The network of poles act as stabilisers so that they don’t capsize.’
As they drew closer to the landing stage, another crowd of children gathered, some of them pushing and shoving to be first to greet the strangers who were visiting their island.
‘It makes you feel like a Very Important Person, doesn’t it?’ said Binti.
‘I am a Very Important Person,’ said Peter, adopting a lofty air.
‘Only in your own head, Dad,’ scoffed Aesha.
The boat’s engine cut out completely and the captain allowed the boat to drift to its mooring. One of the crew threw a thick rope to a man on the landing stage, who quickly secured it round a mooring post and then beckoned to the passengers to disembark.
Joe looked beyond the crowd of children to glean some idea of the place where they would be spending the next few days before going to a bigger island called Bohol. It was very green, he thought, with lots of palm trees, and there were numerous small shacks dotted around. He wondered where his family would be staying and hoped it wouldn’t be somewhere too grand. He wanted to live like the village children, who were looking at him curiously as he stepped off the boat. Suddenly he felt rather conspicuous, and wished his mother hadn’t bought him a new pair of trainers.
‘Mabuhay,’ one young girl said to him, smiling brightly. ‘Welcome.’
Joe blushed. ‘Thank you,’ he replied.
‘Peter? Peter Brook?’ a voice called.
A blonde woman in her thirties came forward to greet them. She held out her hand to Peter.
‘Angela Butler from the seahorse project,’ she informed him. ‘Welcome to the island of Jandayan and the village of Handumon. I’m delighted our work is attracting so much attention.’
‘And I’m delighted to have the opportunity of photographing such extraordinary creatures,’ said Peter.
‘You must be Binti,’ Angela continued, holding her hand out again. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you from colleagues of mine.’
‘It’s very kind of you to allow me to follow your work while my husband’s here,’ said Binti. ‘These are our children, Aesha and Joe.’
Angela welcomed them warmly. ‘We’ve made room for you all in the staff house,’ she said. ‘It’s basic, but clean and comfortable, and it’s one of the few places in the village with electricity. There’s no running water,
