Painting and decorating is executed by Manila men in excellent style. This art was taught them by Alberoni, and other Italians. Their pupils have covered the walls of many buildings with frescoes in the Italian style, very fairly done. There is much scope for their art in decorating altars and shrines.
The Tagals also show some talent for sculpture, as any visitor to Manila can see for himself by inspecting the Jesuit Church, which is a marvel of patient artistic labour, having taken eleven years to construct. Some of the carving there, however, is so delicate and minutely detailed, that it appears more suitable for a show case in a museum than for the adornment of a place of worship. Of course, every detail of design is due to the Jesuits themselves, amongst whom talented men of every profession can be found.
As a fisherman, the Tagal excels, and the broad expanse of Manila Bay, some 700 square miles in area, gives ample scope for his ingenuity. He practises every kind of fishing Corrales de Pesca, or fish-stakes within the five-fathom line, casting nets and seines in the shallow water, huge sinking nets attached to bamboo shear-legs mounted on rafts in the estuaries, drift nets and line-fishing in the deeper parts of the bay.
From Tondo, from Parañaque, Las Piñas, Bacoor, and Cavite Viéjo, and from dozens of other villages, go hundreds of large canoes, crowded with men, and heaped up with nets, to fish near the San Nicolas Bank, or about Corregidor Island, and they often return with large catches. Some fish by night, with torch and spear; in fact, they seem to be quite at home at any kind of fishing.
The nets and sails of the canoes, and the clothes of the fishermen, are all tanned by them with the bark of the camanchile tree.
The salting, drying, or smoking of the fish caught in the bay is quite an extensive business. The smoked sardines, or tinapá, are very tasty, as also the pickled mullet roes called Bagón de Lisa. But the small shrimps fermented in a jar, and brought to a particular stage of putrefaction,[1] much appreciated by the natives, will not suit European or American tastes.
The vast Bay of Manila holds fish and mammals of all sorts and sizes, from small fry to that huge but harmless monster of the deep, Rhinodon tipicus, with a mouth like the opening of a hansom cab, scooping in jelly-fish by the bushel.
The péje-rey, like a smelt, the lenguádo, or sole, the lísa, or mullet, the bacóco, corbína, pámpano, and others whose names I have forgotten, are excellent. The oysters are good, but very small. Prawns are excellent, large and cheap. Crabs are good, but large ones are not plentiful. Clawless lobsters are caught amongst the rocks of Corregidor and Mariveles. The largest turtle I have ever seen was caught off Malabon. It can be seen in the Jesuits’ Museum, Manila.
Sharks of all sorts, enormous saw-fish,[2] hideous devil-fish,[3] and monstrous conger eels, as well as poisonous black and yellow sea-snakes, abound, so that the fisherman does not have everything his own way. Amongst these men are to be found some excellent divers. I have found them quite able to go down to the keel of a large ship and report whether any damage has been done. Where a sheet of copper has been torn off, they have nailed on a new sheet, getting in two or three nails every time they went down. I enquired from one of these men who had frequently dived for me, when a European diver with diving-gear could not be obtained, if he was not afraid of sharks? He answered, “No es hora del tiburon”—it is not the sharks’ time—and I found he considered that he was very fairly safe from the sharks between ten and four. Before ten and after four was a dangerous time, as the sharks were on the look-out for a meal. I cannot say that I should like to trust to this, especially as I have seen sharks about at other times, and one afternoon, in the bay, had to keep off a hammerheaded-shark from coming near a British diver who was examining the rudder of a steamer, by firing at it from the stern. Some sharks are heavy and slow-moving creatures, but the hammer-headed kind are endowed with a surprising activity, and twist and turn like an eel.
My native diver informed me that he was much more afraid of the Manta than of any shark, and that once when he was diving for some purpose—I do not recollect when—at the bottom a shade fell on him, and, on looking up, he beheld an enormous manta right above him—in his words, “as big as a lighter.” However, it passed on, and he was able to regain the surface.