In the 1500s, a crew of Spanish sailors were shipwrecked on a tiny dash of palm tree-fringed white sand in the Philippines’ Visayan Sea at Christmas. Beautiful as it was, the seafarers feared they wouldn’t escape this bug-blighted, skin-blistering island by the next major Christian festival. They named their godforsaken home Malapascua – ‘bad Easter’ in Spanish.
Today you can’t imagine having a bad anything here. Since local fishermen discovered thresher sharks breaching the waves like dolphins above a sunken island called Monad Shoal more than 20 years ago, Malapascua has become a diving hotspot. Those who head underwater enjoy the perfect cocktail of rainbow-coloured coral gardens, almost-guaranteed sightings of thresher sharks – a species elusive elsewhere – and bleeding sunsets over white beaches. Those Spanish sailors had it all wrong.
Credit: Steve De Neef
But Malapascua was in trouble several years ago. When Super Typhoon Yolanda ripped across the Philippines in November 2013, the tiny island, measuring just 2.5 kilometres by one kilometre, took a direct hit. Joseph Dean – a British diver known locally as Dino, who has been living on the island for more than a decade – filmed the surging storm roll in from the balcony of his concrete home.
‘Before the typhoon, 85 percent of the island was rainforest,’ he says. ‘Three hours afterwards, it was like a desert. Everything on the southern Bounty Beach side was sandblasted, trees were stripped of their bark, paint tore from buildings, anything that was metal was gone.’
Credit: Steve De Neef
At the time, Yolanda was the strongest tropical cyclone by wind speed the world had ever seen, reaching 315 kilometres per hour, and it killed 6,300 people in the Philippines alone. Dino, who manages the Thresher Shark Divers (TSD) centre, turned his home into an evacuation shelter, supplying rice and water stockpiled from Cebu City to his staff. Malapascua was flattened, but no lives were lost on the island. Tourists had been evacuated well in advance.
Below the waves it was a different story. The storm had denuded reefs up to a depth of 30 metres. Coral in the shallows was decimated. Cleaning stations on Monad Shoal, home to wrasses that rid the thresher sharks of parasites each morning (the reason sightings are so reliable), had literally been turned upside down. Eighteen days after Yolanda, the divemasters tested the waters. As they climbed down into the deep blue, they had one question: would the sharks still be there?
Their relief to find the threshers spread through the community; all 4,000 of Malapascua’s residents, from the fishermen to hoteliers, rely on those fish with the long, whip-like tails.
Credit: Steve De Neef
As news of the devastation spread, divers around the world with a soft spot for Malapascua and its threshers sent generous donations to help feed the survivors and rebuild homes. Dive centres across the island, meanwhile, hurried to instal artificial reefs. ‘We were picking up rocks underwater and building pyramids, trying to create cleaning stations so the sharks would keep coming,’ says Dino.
Within days, the cleaning wrasse returned. Soon after, the tourists followed suit. Coral has grown back in beautiful walls of colour. What is more, according to TSD, over the next several years new marine life and a greater variety of sharks have appeared, partly due to different currents and water temperatures brought on by El Niño but also because of local conservation efforts.
Credit: Steve De Neef
Those included the Malapascua Marine Protection Fund, an experimental private project that saw participation from at least eight dive centres on Malapascua. It managed donations from divers to pay for locally hired, government-trained marine guards to patrol the Visayas Sea for illegal fishing 24 hours a day