OPINION

Island stories

On a clear, calm day, the sun polishes the tops of all this greenness against the sparkling blue waters, with lush, tree-covered hills providing an even more nature-blessed background.

Dinah S. Ventura

SIARGAO, Surigao del Norte — On the way to the Municipality of Del Carmen from the Insta-worthy spot called Coconut Plantation Viewpoint, every traveler to Siargao will traverse the famed circumferential road that motorcycle riders have hailed for giving them smooth, long rides.

This main road is among the trademarks of Siargao, long known as the Surfing Capital of the Philippines. Surfers from other parts of the globe make it a point to visit the place called Cloud 9, with its “amazing swells” on which to “hang ten,” as they say. The annual Siargao International Surfing Cup is held here, cementing its place on the global tourism map since Cloud 9 became legendary after it was discovered by the surfing community in 1980.

Unknown to most visitors, perhaps, is whose leadership made it possible for this key infrastructure to be completed — the same man credited as well for the tourism boom in this province.

After all, politics is the least of one’s worries when soaking in the natural beauty and local culture on this island. And yet politics, indeed, has touched these pristine shores, where fortunately development was the result of mindful measures to sustain environmental protection against the rush of progress, and livelihoods were protected as communities were embraced in the march toward modernity.

Siargao and Bucas Grande comprise the two main islands of Surigao del Norte, which is the “second northernmost of the Mindanao provinces.” The peaceful vibe on these islands belies a number of political clashes for power and, of course, years of insurgency in Surigao that have been declared over and done with.

When tourism became its major economic driver, Siargao rode the “waves of change” in the 1990s and has continued to attract an increasing number of tourists, including domestic arrivals, yearly.

Data from the Department of Tourism–Caraga Region shows a “9.8-percent increase in tourist arrivals on the island from January to March 2025 compared to the same period last year, with figures rising from 102,439 to 112,510.”

Numbers aside, Siargao can lay claim to a number of developments from which other provinces should learn. In 2007, then-Congressman Francisco Matugas, a native of Dapa municipality in Siargao who had previously served as governor, made sure that essential infrastructure was built on the island. The concreting of the 162-km circumferential road was among these.

Del Carmen’s Sugba Lagoon is among the tourist draws with a story to tell. While many a social media post has bannered the clear waters and the thrilling jump into the lagoon from a three-meter dive deck roughly fashioned out of wood, it is the boat ride to this spot that first weaves the magic.

Mangroves — from which “Siargao” got its name (the Visayan siyargaw refers to a mangrove species that grows on the islands, says a paper on Mindanao languages; 2017) — extend for miles toward the place called Sugba Lagoon. On a clear, calm day, the sun polishes the tops of all this greenness against the sparkling blue waters, with lush, tree-covered hills shaped like those of Bohol providing an even more nature-blessed background.

According to archived reports of the local government, “Siargao Island has one of the largest mangrove forest reserves in Mindanao, covering an area of 4,871 hectares in Del Carmen.”

The story is that Del Carmen was revived after years of ecological abuse and neglect when a young mayor decided to take on the huge risk of championing environmental protection.

An online article on Revive Our Ocean says, “Once struggling with illegal fishing, deforestation and poverty, Siargao has undergone a transformation across all aspects of life — thanks in large part to the bold vision of Mayor Alfredo Matugas Coro II, whose leadership reshaped both Del Carmen’s ecosystem and future.”

In 2010, after winning in the local elections, Coro focused on bringing back to life the home he grew up in. “Everyone told me that to have an environmental agenda was really political suicide. I was even told, ‘Your visions are impossible,’” Coro recalls. “I said, ‘Yeah, I know — but at least try me out for a few years.’”

“We started to talk to the people about why they did these things that were supposed to be against the law and against nature. We started to understand the reasons and it was very simple: they needed money because they needed to feed their families. They were just asking for a good life that they could define themselves,” he related.

Through years of teaching the community to embrace ecotourism as an alternative to their failing livelihood, as well as to use sustainable fishing practices, he was able to give nature the space and time to come alive again. Today, the forests are back, marine life is thriving, and the people are committed to protecting that which gives them life.

I saw it in the warm smiles, shy greetings from many locals. They have pride of place and decent ways to make a living.

The tourists — as far as I saw — are just as respectful of preserving that which makes Siargao an ideal spot for a quiet or an activity-filled break, whatever catches your fancy. You don’t even have to surf (though this is a great place to learn) to let the charm of Siargao into your soul.