Progress in Marabut

The cliffs in Marabut, Western Samar, Philippines would be my first exposure to outdoor rock climbing. I was 14 back then and this first experience left a significant mark on my life.

Marabut is filled with pristine white sand beaches with towering limestone cliffs in every direction — a climber’s paradise.

Over the years, me and my friends from the hometown climbing gym, have been living within Marabut as dirtbags for days on end; opening many routes and problems, often without the use of rope, as we had no money to buy such expensive climbing gear.

At first, we climbed relatively low faces, free solo. These were more like high balls really, with crash pads we’d make ourselves in our free time. Eventually, we started scaling higher and higher cliffs. I can’t remember the grades, but I do remember fearing for my safety on some of these climbs.

There are no bolts in Marabut to clip draws onto. As the rest of the country started heavily developing areas for sport climbing, Marabut, and the rest of Eastern Visayas, was left untouched in their raw state. This is mostly out of decisions made by the outdoor community in the area which was, and still is, respected.

This no bolting principle can be seen by some as a downside, and on one hand, it can be seen as something positive. It forced us, local climbers, to work with what we had and pushed us to further our skills in something even more daring: Deep Water Soloing

Deep water solo climbing, aka Psicobloc, is a form of climbing that I was first exposed to via a video in my teens. It was a video of Miguel Riera climbing some sick line in Mallorca back in the 2000s

Marabut boasts many seacliffs that are ripe for deep water soloing, and given that we were very lazy to do trad, and were curious about this whole water soloing thing, we found ourselves pushing what we can in this form of climbing

We put up line after line on these sea cliffs. Even climbing the infamous Tooth Island or Pakpak Ng Lawin (eagle’s wings) ropeless. Of all the deep water solo climbs we’ve done, the most classic for me and my buddies here is Summer Rain

Summer Rain was coined by Dennis Diaz during our 2014 stay in Marabut, dedicating it to the relentless rain we experienced during this particular stay. Summer Rain, a 7a line, was opened years prior by Bhagdok Getubig, Inchek Alvero, and I.

I initially thought it was an impossible line to solo given that it had such a clean face without many holds, but looking closer, you’d see a perfect line: a slab start, overhanging climbing on jugs, which finishes off with a technical sequence on modular holds. Tap the bush at the top then top out.

In the early days, Marabut was an open playground: not many issues with regards to access. All landowners were fine with us spending time with whatever cliff faces we wanted to climb in their property

Time hasn’t been easy on us climbers here and our beloved Marabut. Given the raw beauty of the place, it was normal to expect resorts to start popping up. Some have even crept up on our lines, resulting in us having to abandon these classics.

To many, this may seem like progress and allows for more tourism to take place, resulting in more livelihood for the area. But for us who see Marabut from a different perspective, this may mean a whole new era of our climbing here, and not in a good way.

It is definitely heartbreaking and very frustrating to see these lines abandoned.

Take for example the sea wall a certain resort is building. They have extracted their raw materials to build the wall from Calaboso, our oldest trad climb in Marabut. It breaks my heart to see this destruction.

Captain Hook, a V6/7 boulder problem my friends and I have been visiting time and time again has been erected with several villas around it, forcing us to abandon this classic problem.

I know access is an issue that is widespread throughout our sport. I understand the idea of putting up a business in a very beautiful location, I have such business plans myself. But these businesses may take things a little too far, and result in the disruption of the area they seek to be in in the first place.

We climbers have no such voice on this matter. We want to continue climbing our rocks, but we do not own the land, we only play in it. If owners disallow us in their properties, we have no choice but to leave what routes we have established, and seek out other areas.

Time also has not been easy for the people who we’ve built deep bonds when we dirt bagged in Marabut.

Mano Jun was a boatman who showed us the many rock islets in this area. Had it not been for him, we would not have been able to expand our horizons in terms of climbing here.

Mano Jun also gave a roof over our heads when we had no place to stay. He gave us access to food and water when we ran out of it, even if he was running out of it himself.

He was family to me, Inchek, and every climber we’ve brought here. It is sad to know he has passed away.

Marabut’s progress over the years has been filled with so many ups and downs. The opening of new lines and potential climbs, camping in amazing hidden beaches forever stoked our imaginations as climbers. The destruction of some areas, and the passing away of our closest friend, and our anchor here, is definitely a blow to us who see what Marabut can be.

I wonder what happens next…

This writeup is my personal dedication to our good friend, Jun. Thank you for the adventures.

I have a portfolio over at nickaguilos.com / Visit my Instagram or YouTube / Purchase prints and merch at store.nickaguilos.com