Philippines: Between the Turquoise Water and the Bamboo Huts
On colorful fish, community, and conversations that surface when you're off the grid
My travel bucket list is long. A snorkeling and island-hopping expedition in the Philippines was not on it, so how did this destination manifest for my sabbatical?
I’d landed on Southeast Asia as my primary region and had a few anchors locked in. Everything else was open water, filled in through recommendations from friends and free dives across the internet. Palawan, Philippines rose to the surface through a search I was running on must-see destinations for nature lovers, cross-referenced with my indulgent sabbatical goal of turquoise waters, velvet-soft sandy beaches, and sun-drenched skin. (I paid my dues living in the PNW for 25 years. The sun and I have some catching up to do ☀️)
My travel consultant, Claude (yes, that one), helped me connect those dots. What followed precisely matched what I was looking for, so I booked the trip.
The Philippines is an archipelago of over 7,000 islands, so island hopping isn’t a travel style so much as a geographic requirement. A snorkeling expedition here is the country-tour equivalent of a camper van in New Zealand - it’s just how you see the place.
I should be upfront: I am not a snorkeler. The last two times I attempted it - once at the Great Barrier Reef, once in Key West - I experienced a memorable combination of sea creature fright and sea sickness that culminated, at one point, in purging into my snorkeling mask. It’s not an activity I’ve chased since. What drew me here was the picture-perfect sea-and-sand dreams. The snorkeling was secondary, but clearly also an opportunity to finally do it right as the Philippines makes the cut as a top snorkeling destination in the world.
I booked a 6-day/5-night expedition with Tao Philippines, who consistently ranked among the best tour operators for solo travelers in my searches, from El Nido to Coron. We traversed the miles of exactly the turquoise water I’d been seeking. I never had my fill of it. I never will.
Here’s what I found between the open sea and the bamboo beach huts (aka “tukas,” a name coined by Tao Philippines’ eco-architecture).
When Mother Nature tells you to slow down, do as you’re told
Watching fish is a surprisingly effective meditation. One of the first creatures that caught my attention was a turtle, who I felt compelled to stalk to see what it was up to, where it was going, who it was meeting. At first, I found fish boring - they seemed to swim along with nothing to do - but I liked looking at them, nonetheless. I fell madly in love with the colorful Parrotfish, who I nicknamed Drag Fish because they reminded me of drag queens, boastfully swimming amongst their peers, knowing full well that they were the most fabulous of them all🫰
I found myself studying different species’ behaviors, patterns, and interactions. Since I didn’t know anything about their actual species names, I made up names and stories for them. There was the Witch Fish (solid black ‘angelfish’ with a subtle and ominous burgundy iridescence that swam in small groups, like witches doing research for a spell they are brewing), the Aztec Slider (white fish with an aztec-like pattern who slithered on the ocean floor, slurping up food along the way), the Zombie Fish (ugly, disfigured grey things that swam so slow they seems as though they were going to just tip over … 🤔 come to think of it, that may have actually been a dying fish).
I found personalities and patterns in each - the anemone fish (aka “clownfish” like “Nemo”) form little families, seeming to always have two adults protectively circling a patch of hairy white coral, from where the babies pop themselves out every so often to say ‘Hi.’ I hovered above a school of thousands of herrings swimming in precise inexplicable synchronicity, morphing into branches and changing formation like a kaleidoscope.
I didn’t have a proper underwater camera, and the one time I tried to take photos with my phone in a dry bag I was flustered and distracted. In fact, this entire trip was a digital detox. We didn’t have wifi or cell signal until the second to last day of the trip.
When we slow down and allow nature to consume our senses, the thoughts, visions, and ideas that follow fill us with a thick, syrupy sweetness. The kind you don't want to rush.
The mission-first business model proves sustainable again
Tao Philippines turns 20 this year. It’s the second organization I’ve encountered on this sabbatical (Elephant Nature Park (ENP) was the first) that is shaping a Contrary Cortney business philosophy: the idea that leading with mission, community, and integrity doesn't compete with profitability, it drives it. The parallels are striking enough to be a curriculum:
Both are 20+ years old with consistent growth. Both were devastated by typhoons (Tao in 2013, ENP in 2024) and rebuilt stronger, thanks to the help of the community, from which they already had strong foundations prior to the disasters. Both center women’s empowerment and local knowledge. Both treat tourism as a vehicle for education for workers, community, and travelers alike. Tao’s stated philosophy: “The future is community.” 🥰
One notable difference: at ENP, Lek and Darrick (the owners) are everywhere. You feel their presence even when they’re not in the room. At Tao, I only learned who the founders were through a commemorative magazine. Mission embedded, not embodied. A different model, not a lesser one.
One thing I’d push Tao on: women are described as being “in charge,” but they’re largely operating behind the scenes. The stories of Tao’s women deserve to be told as loudly as the men’s, not just for equity’s sake, but as an active investment in the next generation of women watching.
The universe is a better matchmaker than we are
One of the things that I am starting to love about solo travel is the journey from “stranger” to “travel companion” with the people who materialize around each experience.
Our group represented 10 countries: expats living across Asia, kids ages 9–14, couples and families, and a handful of us pushing the average age up from the back. I was the only American and one of just three solo travelers. Fair warning for solo travelers considering Tao: the reviews skew heavily solo-friendly, but my group didn't reflect that. It didn't diminish the experience - the connections I made were real - but if your energy recharges around other solo travelers, go in with open eyes.
I almost always skip political conversation, but it was hard this time, given Trump’s current war. The world is genuinely confused and concerned by Trump’s reckless actions against democracy and humanity, and, as an American, I feel a sense of guilt for not being able to provide answers or claim enough ownership on behalf of my country. In the Philippines, this feeling sank deeper. The tuk-tuk and taxi drivers weren’t shy about the 2–3x jump in gas prices since the war began, costs that are meaningfully cutting into whether they can feed their families. The weight of that conversation stays with me.
Another thread that has been surfacing, unprompted, in my travels is a Western envy of simplicity. I felt it deeply in Cambodia, it was a topic in Vietnam, and it surfaced again in the Philippines. The SE Asian pace of life is viscerally appealing, but most of us don’t have the cultural tools to actually inhabit it. So we absorb what we can and carry it home like a puzzle with several pieces lost or left behind.
The ocean is a healer. I’ve heard that the minerals in the water, combined with the sun, are restorative to our immunity, vitality, and mental health. I don’t need to know all of the science, I felt it.
If you want to check out all of my pics from this trip, go to my Google Photo Album here.
Signing off with kisses, gratitude, and a little contrary! 😘🙏
