Illuminated pagoda
On 19 September, the culminating rites began at the Naga Metropolitan Cathedral with the final novena and Pontifical Mass by four in the afternoon. Devotees on boats gathered around the Danlugan. Around 6:30 p.m., the image of El Divino Rostro was taken out for a land procession to the Danlugan, followed by the image of Our Lady of Peñafrancia. Voyadores pressed close to the andas, and thousands took their places beside the river.
There the procession encountered the condition that would make the 2026 homecoming unlike any before it: the water was too shallow for the pagoda to proceed safely. Yet the delay did not dissolve the gathering. The rosary continued; lights multiplied along the banks. Once the tide rose, the images were transferred to the flower-decked pagoda. Devotee paddlers and a flotilla of boats accompanied it along the Naga River as prayers, hymns and shouts rose from both shores.
The changed hour transformed the visual language of the tradition. The river, usually bright beneath an afternoon sky, became a dark current traced by flickering lights. The illuminated pagoda seemed to carry its own horizon, advancing slowly between walls of people. Inâ’s return remained solemn and exuberant at once: a ritual of departure from the cathedral, passage through the city and restoration to her permanent home.
At about 10:30 p.m., the images reached the basilica, where waiting devotees received them, and the concluding Mass followed.
The next day, devotees flocked to the basilica to celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Peñafrancia and personally honor their patroness.
For the Archdiocese of Cáceres, the fluvial procession is more than a spectacular finale. It describes the Naga River as a living sign of the baptismal waters that form one family under Inâ. The delayed voyage also exposed how closely a centuries-old devotion depends on the health and rhythms of the river that carries it, giving the celebration an unforeseen call to stewardship.
In the end, the low water did not diminish the homecoming. It asked the multitude to wait. And when the pagoda entered the night, the theme of a growing Church became visible — not only in the extraordinary number of people present, but in a community praying, serving, adjusting and moving together. Along the darkened river, Bicol’s Mother came home, and her children kept pace from both water and shore.