Rock climbing in Apo Island
The gritty persistence of rock climbing in stark distinction to the undisturbed tropical life and graceful underwater pursuits, was appealing for its inimitability.
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The gritty persistence of rock climbing in stark distinction to the undisturbed tropical life and graceful underwater pursuits, was appealing for its inimitability.
Face to face with a hard place.
The basalt protrusion known as the Rock.
Navigating one of the different routes to the top.
Taking a break from the exertions of the day
The “Rock” is an Apo Island mainstay, a distinct mark in its own right as much as the reefs underneath, surviving even attempts to blast it with explosives. Compact and stable and devoid of any vegetation, this enormous mass of basalt can’t be missed. A silent watchtower where seabirds roost, it shoots out from the sea just off the beach.
We approached from the shore, scrambling over slippery rocks and boulders that led to the base. Rope and harnesses were wrapped around our necks or dangled over our shoulders. Carabineers jingled inside pouches strapped around our waists. We came, not to marvel at the scene from this distinctive lookout, but with the intent to test our mettle against its rock faces. Climbing was the order of the day.
The “Rock” was not particularly high, measuring just over 14 meters from sea level to summit, but served up a number of walls — hard and free from rock fall — that ranged from easy to technically difficult. Our search for previously established climbing routes proved fruitless. Unable to find neither any bolts on the surface left behind by previous climber nor traces of prior itineraries, we decided on a top-roped climb and set up our anchor and belay on the highest ledge then returned to the bottom, barely above the waters for our ascent.
The assortment of possible holds was a consequence of the texture and contour of the surface; small crevices, cracks in the stone, nooks and slots were the mechanisms to scale the wall with grips, fists or finger holds. Interesting shapes and figures formed on the rock.
With fingers dug into the stone nose of an imaginary beast, I yanked myself upward, my legs pushing against slits on the crag. Limbs worked in concerted unison: arm over arm, hands crossing over and feet switching on restricted toe-holds as I dangled from overhangs to get into better position for the next move.
When the need arose to shake off the knots from my tightening arms, I put my full weight on my legs. Instincts were on overdrive. If I slipped or lost my grasp, my hands shot out spontaneously and clutched for a grip. Grazing and scraping were customary. Risk-taking became necessary when an extension even on full stretch was inadequate; I would swing from one nook to another or lunge out for a pocket beyond my reach.
Numerous ascents later, my preoccupation turned sideways. Climbing direction was not just vertical. My workout continued horizontally. Movement and manoeuvres shifted to traversing the width and establishing a circuit. Side to side and diagonally, I went, yet again balancing on rock and defying gravity.
Rock climbing went well beyond agility, strength and endurance. It involved conquering fear, planning and adaptability as well. It was also about all about space, of being alone, of being apart and distant. Of being one with yourself. You were your best companion.
Fully spent after the exertions of the morning, I braced myself on a precarious outcropping. My breathing was quick and short. My muscles ached and shook from exhaustion. Below, waves splashed on rocks. A steady breeze fanned, tempering the fallout from a callous noonday sun. Thriving fish and coral were visible from up high. One would be hard-pressed to find another fitting climbing setting in the midst of crystal-clear waters, marine sanctuaries and picturesque scenery. The gritty persistence of rock climbing in stark distinction to the undisturbed tropical life and graceful underwater pursuits, was appealing for its inimitability.
I cautiously unfastened the carabineer that connected the rope to my harness. Finally freed from my safety line, I flung myself from the ledge and far out into space, suspended momentarily in the air. Then the surging waters seemingly heaved upwards to collect me.
