Nosy Tarsee learned the real story from Puerto Princesa, and it wasn’t about intercepting misdeclared items, but about their release.

Fifteen-point-seven-five metric tons of nitro emulsion and Amex explosives, Class 1.1D, mass-explosion hazard, riding a passenger ferry like checked luggage. The Coast Guard’s K9 unit caught it.

By most accounts, the paperwork didn’t hold up. And yet the shipment ended up in PNP custody — quietly, and with a speed that had port sources scratching their heads.

Nosy Tarsee’s feathered friends in Palawan said the explosives were headed for a mining operation, and that the company’s “permit” was more aspiration than authorization by the time the trucks rolled onto the vessel.

Which raises the obvious question: who made the call that got 15-plus tons of blasting material waved through and handed off to the police instead of impounded pending a real investigation?

The name being whispered isn’t a Coast Guard officer’s or a customs man’s — they were the fall guys, and one of them has been relieved of his post, poor fellow.

The name Nosy Tarsee keeps hearing belongs to someone considerably more senior, a mining industry fixture whose operations depend on a steady, unbothered supply of blasting agents, and whose relationship with the uniformed brass goes back decades. This is a personality who has never needed to appear on a manifest to move one.

Nosy Tarsee’s sources cited the venue confusion — Palawan asking NCR-Central Luzon for guidance on where to even file the case, because the “questioned documents” were executed somewhere else entirely. Funny how paper trails get complicated exactly when they’d otherwise point somewhere uncomfortable.

Someone made a phone call — someone with mining money and police friends.