Thursday, June 10, 2004
Whispering Palms
By Iker S. Andrade
There is a resort nestled in an obscure island off San Carlos city. But unlike more popular destinations visited by droves of tourists, this resort is a breath of fresh air. It is tranquil, calming and secure, an idyllic getaway for those who value their solitude.
Whispering Palms in Sipaway Island is one peculiar resort, but in a beguiling way. For one, guests wouldn’t miss two hardwood statues at the far end of the resort. There is that gigantic Ifugao tribesman carrying his prize—a deer—on his back. The other is a mermaid, painted emerald green, sitting on a boulder. As though guarding the beach, the two statues stare beyond a thicket of mangroves at the sea, which at low tide is dissected by a narrow half-kilometer concrete pathway.
This sight illustrates the eclectic mix that gives the resort one of its many charms. And like the rest of Sipaway Island—which is home to a 200-year-old balete tree—the resort, too, wears an ornate veil of mystery.
When palms whisper
The fi rst time he set foot on this part of Sipaway Island in the ‘80s, Detlev Bilan heard something that has since lingered in his mind like a pleasant memory. It was a soft voice, from the sky. When he looked up, he realized it was just the tall palm trees, whispering as the winds blew.
From that day on, Detlev fell in love with the place and its people. He retired in Sipaway, settled down, and pursued the task of making a difference in the lives of Barangay San Juan’s residents.
One of his fi rst projects was Papa’s Wharf, named after Papa Nonoy Obinada, the father of his first wife. The wharf had two windmills that provided electricity to the area.
But it was only two decades later, this year, that the resort was born. Whispering Palms, he named it, recalling the day the coconut trees spoke to him.
To the resort, which employs warm locals as staff, he brought a deft marriage of German technology and Filipino inspiration.
Adequate electricity, water
While the surrounding barangays are bugged by utility problems, Whispering Palms Island Resort, all four-hectares of it, is self-suffi cient when it comes to electricity and water. Solar panels and the windmills provide power, while receptacles gather rain, which are purifi ed into potable water.
The accommodations, too, are functional yet comfortable. Spartan but spacious, the standard, deluxe and family rooms are fairly priced (from P800-P1,200). Each unit has an electric fan and
toilet and bath.
The bungalows, however, offer generous perks, and more. Aside from the hot and cold water dispenser and toilet and bath, each bungalow (P2,500) has two air-conditioned bedrooms, digital satellite TV, and indigenous but unobtrusive furniture.
Leisure time
With these basic necessities met, guests can focus on making the best out of their leisure time in the resort, which has a swimming pool, a billiard hall, and a volleyball court. They can also rent bicycles and roam inside the compound through its grassy lawns and sandy trails.
Despite its offering of amenities such as the seafood restaurant, bar, and mini-gym, Whispering Palms is a work in progress. Detlev admits that there is still work to be done with the beachfront.
“We have to make the beach more attractive,” he says. Initial plans involve the cutting of the mangroves, a unique feature of the resort. But some visitors have suggested an activity involving the mini-forest, such as providing guests, particularly children, an educational-adventure tour through the mangroves, which is home to several kinds of fi sh and fauna.
Hammocks
But as is, Whispering Palms offers many other surprises. A trek around the resort during daytime reveals several hammocks hidden under a cliff, behind boulders and a patch of mangroves. An afternoon nap here, with the random sea spray, can lull any weary traveler to sleep.
But it is at night that the real charm of the place suffuses the air. Yes, the palms here do whisper, at the slightest passing of a breeze. And from the mangroves, a pleasant cacophony of chirps, cheeps and twitters rise. From a distance, lamps carried by fi sherfolk gathering seashells dot the otherwise pitch-black horizon.
The low tide reveals the seabed’s secrets, and the shore, like the mermaid of myth, beckons visitors, perhaps couples hand in hand, to breathe the tang of salty air and take a stroll along the pathway, now faintly visible and stretching towards the sea, fading into the evening. Here in Whispering Palms, even darkness can be a beautiful sight to behold.
(June 10, 2004 issue)
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