I am here now under the sun, burning by a boulder on the beach as waves crash against my feet, on an island a few minutes and one pump boat ride away from the island of Caponayan in the Cuyo Archipelago. Palabatan is a conglomeration of dead corals and red soil with scattered plants and trees. There are no permanent settlements here, only birds who fly in and out. There is one cat who most likely stowed away on the boat of locals who had visited, and was left to fend for itself.

Black, white, green, and blue were the colors I saw on Palabatan from the pump boat. Gray, brown, red, and yellow are the colors I saw upon docking. There are empty bottles, torn sachets, and broken halves of slipper pairs. I came across a portion of a floor mop, that part of the item meant to hold its metal pieces together.

There is a mountain of plastic bottles that had stacked themselves one on top of the other by the black beach boulders of the island. I meant to write while turned away from it when I first sat down, but the sun was too harsh. The Palawan municipality where Palabatan can be found has consistently been featured in the news for weeks now. Heat index reports said it was 43°C warm in Cuyo the other day, and a high 45°C the day prior. These tiny dots in the Sulu Sea were dubbed the heat topnotchers of the country.

I felt this heat they reported in Cuyo at times, only when there were no trees around nor wind from the sea. Afternoons in the city center of Puerto Princesa were still worse. Even worse were broad daylights in Metro Manila. My mother had been reminding me of how contented the younger version of myself was to simply be in the calm waters by Cuyo’s Capusan beach during the sunny days of my childhood. By the sand and with the wind, as though my skin did not burn.

I asked those around me why so much trash was on an island where no human permanently resides. They told me it was the sea and past typhoons that brought the pieces of garbage I saw to Palabatan. They said this as we weekenders picnicked under Palabatan’s only cashew tree with bags’ worth of plastic bottles, cups, and plates beside us.

Was it also the sea and past typhoons that crushed the corals underwater? I was told that the blows of the wind were different in the Cuyo Archipelago. Would it be proper to ask if it was also nature who poisoned the corals in the area before these were whisked away and broken into pieces by the tide?

A doctor I met the previous day mused about how hard it must be to be an environment sector worker in the Philippines, even more so in its Palawan province. I confirmed her speculations with a nod, knowing these to be true as such a worker myself who wonders now what the cases I have seen filed will achieve, if any. 

Cases concerning the environment, when filed by those who are for it, languish for years in court. While a period of four years was the speediest resolution time I am aware of, most cases pend for at least seven years. And as these cases roll, those who cannot feed themselves three meals a day will be forced to pay damages and fines in amounts of money they had never held in their lives. Is it proper now to ask what chance do small-time fisherfolks and farmers have in this climate? What chance do islands like Palabatan have?

Locals of the archipelago venture toward uninhabited islands like Palabatan whenever they intend to wile their time by beaches they do not see every day. They make themselves merry on these islands’ sand, and then leave without cleaning. 

The dead corals that form Palabatan’s beach will one day be completely clothed in trash. An unnatural rainbow of colors will take over, and that one kitten would be gone. Never would any bird freely choose to land on Palabatan. Also expect fish in the surrounding waters to die. 

The mountain of plastic bottles before me says that one day they will come together to melt and form a toxic sheet on the soil of this island in the middle of nowhere. I tell it that one day humans will come together to save Palabatan.