When I wrote this article for the website of the Movement of Imaginals for Sustainable Societies through Initiatives, Organising & Networking (MISSION), the whale sharks tour at Oslob was still in its early stage.
Passing by Oslob south of Cebu by bus these days, one cannot help notice how the area has changed through the years. Every piece of land that can be built on — whether on a steep slope or by the beach — is being used. In every nook are resorts, bed & breakfast places, boutiques, diving & snorkelling shops being advertised. The once-sleepy fishing village is now in big demand as a tourist destination. Tour companies are quick to cash in on these demands.
Questions arise. What are the limits in the town’s carrying capacity? Where and how is their garbage being disposed? How are the whale sharks being fed? How are we changing their natural habits? Have the whale sharks multiplied in number? Are there less of them now? These are the same questions that haunted us from the beginning.
On the way to a day tour in Sumilon Island, our small group of five people decided to pass by barangay Tanauan in the town of Oslob to see if it was a good day to encounter the whale sharks, locally called butanding. From previous reports, there had been stories of chaos and disorganisation in how the local fishermen handled the incoming crowds of curious tourists. There had also been howls of protest from the discerning public in how the whale sharks were being handled, especially when photos showed up on the internet of people touching the butanding, and worse, standing on top of one of them which was stranded.
Our vehicle arrived in Tanauan where we were greeted by friendly women fisherfolk. You’re lucky, they said, very few people today. And the sea was flat and crystal clear. Many butandings were around that day.
Yes, it was clear that lessons have been learned, and now, no banca can go out to sea unless the tourists have listened to a short briefing. No touching , no sudden movements and splashing of water, keep at least a six-feet distance from the whale sharks. A system of payment was also in place where the prices were clear.
As our banca joined the other boats that were floating in a circle, I noticed a gray shadow on the sea near a feeding boat. As we got nearer, we saw the whale shark. I slid gently into the water with mask, snorkel, and fins, and from underwater, saw the full body of this beautifully-spotted young butanding, its gills opening and closing like window shutters. It swam very close to the feeding banca, opening its wide mouth as if saying, “Feed me, feed me!” I watched it open its mouth, and it suddenly dawned on me why this whale shark was begging for food. It was begging to be fed!
And that made me sad. What are we doing to these creatures? We are making beggars of them. What is the consequence of feeding these butandings? Obviously, they come back to be fed, and so that we humans, because we are curious, can watch them from up close, raking in the money for the Oslob organizers, as well as to the fisherfolk.
But what else? Are we interfering with their seasonal journey? Because they are being fed by friendly fishers on bancas, these butandings are likely to approach someday any boat — that may have other intentions like catching or killing them for whatever value. That is the greatest danger in this whole story.
I hope each one who goes to see these great gentle creatures would also realize that.
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Author’s email: [email protected]
