A Parao.
We dined early, and spent the evening in long chairs on the balcony. It was a lovely night, fresh and cool, probably not more than 85°, with great stars shining brightly, making quite a silver light upon the sea. Many people from the village were out in the bay, wading in the shallows, and catching fish with spears and torches, shining a light on the water, and then plunging down a spear and bringing up the poor deluded fish. A man ran out from under our house, carrying a bamboo staff about 12 feet long, dipped in something resinous, and flaming at one end, and we saw another man join him, and they waded far out, till the torch was only a little speck of yellow in the silvery night. That was all very nice and primitive, but on the rocks below sat another engaging barbarian, squatting on his heels getting crabs out of the pools, and whistling “Hiawatha” perfectly in tune.
We had a very early start next morning, turning out at half-past five, and packing and breakfasting as soon as it was light, for we had to be back in Iloilo in time for C—— to be at his office at eight o’clock. We had not been able to get the launch to come and fetch us, so, when we were on our way back from the river the night before, we had stopped by the village and made arrangements to take one of the paraos lying at anchor there—long, thin frames of bamboo covered with bejuco matting, tarred inside and out, in shape sharp and narrow as a blade, with big canvas sails and great wide outriggers. The crews of these boats consist of several men, one of whom steers while the others control the sails or run out on the outriggers, for the art of sailing them consists in a very skilful balance, according to the direction of the wind; and breezes here are known as “one-man” or “three-man” winds and so on, by the number of men that would be required on the outriggers of a parao. They are said to be safe enough, but they look very risky, and skim over the water like swallows, also they draw very little water, and can anchor in very shallow places.
We got on board our parao, the Soltero, by about seven o’clock, and had a lovely, fresh three-man breeze, a glorious sunny morning, and I wished the crossing could have taken half a day instead of half an hour. C—— and I sat on the little narrow plank that served as deck; while the other half of the boat, where the “deck” stopped, was full of rolls of bedding and gear, and on top of all, sat the cook still clutching the panama and his sack of pots and pans. The boat towed behind, with one of the wooden cases in it, guarded by Sotero, holding in his arms a large and handsome rooster, to buy which he had asked for an advance upon his wages. I don’t like cock-fighting, and was depressed by the sight of this poor animal; but it would be silly to make a fuss and perhaps lose so good a servant, and, after all, though you can train a Filipino to understand your ways, it is no more possible to alter his being a Filipino by your theories than to wash his skin white with somebody’s soap.
I was so interested in watching the marvellously nimble way the sailors ran out upon the outriggers, first to one side, then we made a wide tack and the sail swung round, nearly knocking our heads off, and the crew rushed over to the other side, doing feats of balancing far more wonderful than anything I ever saw in a circus, for they had not got a nice safe net below them, with a lot of men in brass buttons holding on to the poles and looking up to see if they made a slip. On the contrary, there was nothing but their astounding balance and agility between them, and fathoms of choppy sea running with a swift current, and full of sharks.
They brought the boat to the beach at the end of the street which runs at right angles from our own, opposite the end of our house, and ran her broadside on in shallow water and then up on to the sand, where we could jump ashore from the bows.
The sailors and the cook and Sotero carried the gear up into the house, and when I went into the hall, I had the impression of having been some weeks in a strange country, whereas we had really only been within sight of our own town from Saturday to Monday. So many new things—and yet, though I have written till I am tired, I feel that I have not told you half what we saw and noticed.