When we left Colorado I thought our volunteering days were over. Man, was I wrong.
Since coming aboard, we’ve helped Cebu, Philippines, earthquake victims by raising money for food and supplies for an effort by one of the local colleges. We then jumped in to help create bags of sleeping gear, personal hygiene items, food, and water for the displaced residents of the earthquake zone. The organization had hoped to create 25 bags. With our donations and help we created over 125 such bags, and got them loaded in a truck for delivery. We have helped other natural disaster victims based on them being crew on our ship.
A More Ongoing Need
In Coron, Philippines, we found a couple of delightful opportunities. Some residents visited the animal shelter to pet and play with the cats and dogs — and help improve the facilities. Others went to Coron Island to meet with the indigenous Tagbanua People (sometimes spelled Tagbanwa). They are thought to be descended from Tabon Man, making them the original inhabitants of the Philippines. They’ve lived here for over 20,000 years. We visited to see what kind of help they wanted or needed.
Confusingly, Coron Island is not to be confused with Coron the city, which is on a totally different island (see map). We were docked at the city, and the trip to what I call the Beach People on Coron Island, their beach area marked with the arrow, took 45 minutes by a motorized outrigger boat.
We had met Al, a young man who has adopted these families, at the Full Moon Blue Moon Festival in the Coron park one night. Part of his help comes in the form of taking tours out to visit their tiny population, separate from the two tribal villages of 2,600 people combined. The visits culminate in interacting with the people and being fed a wonderful lunch of local treats.
Our group of 12 was picked up at the same park where we met Al at the Festival. A motorized outrigger took us to the main beach we were visiting. The day involved kayaking among four beaches to interact with each of the families. There are more beaches and families in that cluster of people, but given their more distant locations we didn’t visit more of them.
We were treated to juice of local fruit, fried chicken from their own chickens, a freshly caught fish grilled to perfection, and stir-fried rice and vegetable dishes. The food was served on broad leaves as platters, decorated with beautiful flowers. Even the colorful stir-fried vegetable dishes were decorated with flowers. At the end of our visit we were treated to the coffee they roast, grind, and brew along with coconut jam on store-bought rolls. I didn’t see their cooking space so don’t know how they created such delicious foods. Another trip.
Castaways
The people live in crude, basic huts on narrow beaches carved out of karst topography acting as shelter from weather. The limestone cliffs soar up to almost 2,000 feet above the sea. Each family is settled on a shallow and small strip of beach with palm trees for shade and food — one beach alcove per family. There are no trails between the beaches: they’re reached via kayaking, as we were doing. The beaches were so quiet, a nice contrast to the cacophony of the town. You could hear the lapping waves on the coral sand, the 2-stroke engines of the motorized kayaks sounding like lawn mowers over the waves, kids laughing and playing, dogs barking and yipping, and chickens clucking.
As we paddled between the beaches I was in awe of the towering cliffs as the backdrop for the homes, the expanse of sea between islands, and the peace that wrapped itself around me. Even the gentle sound of the paddles cutting through the water, propelling our kayak, was peaceful. Each kayak had two or three people as we traveled to the next family.
A jarring sight in this tropical paradise were the solar panels used to charge batteries for keeping the one cell phone per beach charged. Aha: a way to stay in touch with each other, and the outside world! In contrast, there is no fresh water, forcing them take a 45-minute boat to town to buy it; the trip and the water costing them precious money. The sea is getting fished out, partially due to illegal dynamite fishing by outsiders.
The last family we met were celebrating the college graduation of their daughter/grand daughter. While they are celebrating her, the kids on the island are getting ready to start school next week — if they want to attend. School is a serious commitment because of the 45-minute boat ride into Coron, and back, each day.
The Tagbanua men make their own kayak outriggers. As we visited the second beach, we watched one of the men painting his kayak. It was beautiful! His work was meticulous. Our guide had provided some paint for one of the new kayaks and found out that it’s not drying quickly so that paint isn’t going to be used again.
At the third beach, sheltered by a natural rock wall, I was struck by the thought that rising sea levels could endanger their fingerhold of land. I asked if they had noticed rising waters. It was a difficult question to convey because of language barriers, but it was slowly communicated to the grandmother of that beach. She gave more information than I’d asked for: typhoon storms aren’t as bad but the sea water is warmer, the coral is dying, and yes she notices the water level is a bit higher.
At the fourth island, which we had a hard time getting to because the waves were up, making our tired muscles work more than they wanted to, we decided to go swimming. It was wonderful! I could see more closely that the coral is dying, if not dead. That loss of ecological diversity isn’t helping their fish thrive. Two of my friends felt “stingy things” in the water. We didn’t see jelly fish and I didn’t experience that, but it sure set a tone for me about how the water is changing.
Their One Craft
We also talked about the weaving that seems to be dying out. Historically, women wove sleeping mats of rattan and other plant fibers. Those mats also acted like suitcases when they traveled or moved — their belongings are rolled up inside — and that’s also what the people are buried in: they too are wrapped in their mat.
Weaving must be hard on the hands, explaining to me why the women give it up. But Dante, the oldest son of the “beach people” and our last host, had a mat hanging outside the building we met him in. I pointed that out and we talked about how long the mats take to weave. A 10 inch strip of meter-wide mat takes about two weeks to make. By my calculations that means a mat takes 3-4 months to make, if you consider preparing the plant material too.
But beyond the mats, which seem to be dying out (who wants to sleep on a mat when you could have a mattress?), we saw little evidence of a passed-along culture. No songs, no stories, no artwork, no agriculture, no real customs that we could see or even hear about.
We wore ourselves out kayaking to the fourth beach, so the outrigger that brought us out came to pick us up. That impacted the idea the family at the first beach had planned for us: treating us to the coffee and coconut jam treats I described earlier. They weren’t going to be deterred; they brought the feast to us — a movable feast!
We had been careful not to say “Here’s how you fix all of your problems” — Western ideas for a culture we couldn’t possibly understand with a one-day visit. Al, who had a Western university education, hadn’t seemed to have budged them along too much in his many years of working with them, but he was bringing them some income by bringing small tour groups, like us, with our fees being split between them and our transportation.
And here that family was, bringing something in addition to the moveable feast: samples of the bracelets they are weaving, bracelets they use to make globe-looking Christmas ornaments to sell in the European Christmas Markets. We each bought a bracelet as a memento of our trip. I was disappointed they didn’t have coconut jam for us to buy, but without small jars to dispense the jam into, they were unable to accommodate a sale. The next day our team leader took a bag of small jam jars we gathered from our collections, plus the kitchen’s collection, to deliver to Al so they can start jarring samples for tourists.
For Some, a Dream Life
Their lives didn’t seem bad to me. With tropical flowers scenting the air and coloring their vision, fresh air and food, and peaceful surroundings, how could it be bad? These people clearly have a lot less than even the people in the tiny town of Coron across the water. But, the people seemed content and happy. They had chickens and fish, and foraged for roots and greens. The only thing they need money for is paying for boat rides to other islands, buying water, and going to the doctor or hospital. One woman recently died because she couldn’t get to the hospital quickly enough for help. Her husband died a few months later. I don’t have details of what their health issues were, but the story points to a need.
Tourism is budding, but it’s going to be a slow process. And the “beach people” don’t want to upset their lifestyles to cater to tourists: the visits are limited to two small groups per week. At least that’s my take. And Al, who is spearheading that effort, is just one man. He needs help, but he doesn’t know exactly what he or they need, and can’t work for free forever.
My group came away collectively scratching our heads about how we could help. None of us want to westernize them any more than they have been. They don’t seem to want that either. Why do they need education if they are going to keep their lifestyle going? Part of the answer to that is to deal with tourists and people who would take advantage of them.
I was talking to friends at dinner the night I returned from my visit to Coron Island and told them about the need for clean water. Jim shared a product that seems like a perfect solution for them: a simple water filter that doesn’t rely on electricity. It can filter rain runoff and other water, murky or clean, brought down from the lakes and ponds above. But it can’t help with sea water. Now, they think that drinking the water collected from their roofs is good enough. Is it up to us to teach them they are better off with clean water? I think so.
But Then What?
Do we help them create a new arts and crafts culture? They clearly have several skills that could transfer to new uses.
Do we raise money to pay for tutors who would come over for a month at a time? If they agree that education is vital for their survival, that would be a powerful way to help.
Do we find a Peace Corps type person to teach them about agriculture, irrigation, and other survival tricks they don’t seem to have? That’s a tall order, both to sell to them and to provide for.
Maybe they’d love to create music, after getting instruments and lessons. There is a multitude of options with a limited human resource at the moment.
There were too many filters in this story for me to get a handle on what they want or need. Yes, I saw needs, but am I right that those are both real needs, and something they want? I learned during one of our volunteer experiences back in Colorado that people that in general don’t appreciate help that’s not been asked for, and they are endlessly appreciative for help they do ask for and truly need. How can these people be introduced to possibilities without tainting them with westernized dreams? They already have adopted some western practices like solar charging and cell phones, as well as riding in motorized boats to travel to distant locations. How much more is appropriate?
With the short time we had with them, I’m not feeling we can impact them much. I’m at a loss as to how to help. But I came away wanting to.
Originally Published June 10, 2026 — Last Updated June 11, 2026- About the Author
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Informative, interesting and important…immensely gratifying.
Marti, I’m glad to hear you found this a valuable article. That warms my heart.
Having spent some time during our travels on a few of the Philippine islands, we were struck by how the locals made do and seemed almost prosperous by comparison to many of the other islands and countries in SE Asia that we have visited.
After reading your post, I realized that we had barely scratched the surface and now I want to go back to see a few places similar to what you describe.
We cruise a lot and have made some friends among the various crews that we sail with. We also try to assist with getting them contact in times of stress, such as this earthquake, so that they can check on their families.
I have been following you both ever since you first mentioned your lifestyle change several years ago.
Thanks for keeping us informed and for the “peeks behind the curtain” of your current life style.
Best wishes for continued success and for keeping Randy’s “True” sailing as well.
When you do return and explore, Edward, please let us know where you go, what you find, and your reactions to your experiences. We found the place to be most wonderful and the people lovely.
This may be a stupid question, but how do they get cell phone coverage out there?
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Because there are cell towers on the island. These beaches are isolated; the island itself has other population centers. -rc
You touched on the most important point: Don’t give people help they didn’t ask for. It is condescending to think that we know better what folks need than they do themselves. It is also rarely appreciated.
In my opinion, the best way to help those in need is to ask what their problems are; not what they need. You may then have an idea that they would not have thought of themselves and be able to truly help, if they want it.
This doesn’t just apply to less “civilized” people, but your own friends and neighbors.
Larry, part of the hesitation you may have noticed in my writing comes from not knowing how much help the Beach People are asking for. Al is our contact naa]d their friend so I’m leaving all requests to him to process. That’s especially easy since we aren’t there any longer. All of our volunteer work has taught us the same lesson you have shared.
I go to the Philippines for several months at a time. The boats with the two outriggers are called “bankas”, sometimes spelled “bangka”. They can be a small wooden one that is paddled up to a large fiberglass one with a motor.
The leaves that they put the food on were probably banana leaves.
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We both did think they were banana leaves, but didn’t want to be AI-like in “hallucination” without knowing for sure. Thanks for the confirmation. -rc
Good post, and good on ya for providing aid yet contemplating the philosophical dilemma about helping. Thanks for sharing info about the Tagbanua culture.
Thanks for following our journey, Matt. The philosophical dilemma holds true for so much of what we on the ship do. It’s interesting to watch and listen to others process their paths.
Would a solar or other non-electric desalination still for each family be something that would be cost effective. An off-the-grid system that can be heated with solar, manual, sticks or other naturally available fuel could be something that would not intrude on their culture too much. Ask Al if that might be something that would be acceptable.
My cursory search comes up with a number of systems that don’t require electricity or filters at prices $400-600 each that can produce multiple liters of drinking water from the sea daily. I’m sure it would require a bit of research to find the best system. The systems currently available varied a lot in price and output.
Linda, Al has a system in mind. I don’t know anything about it, though I’ll ask when I send him the link to a system Jim introduced to me that doesn’t require any electricity to provide clean water. And, that company has a Philippine office so it feels like a natural connection.
This was a very informative article, and I loved your perspective of helping without damaging their lives. Thank you for publishing this.
You are most welcome. Richard. Thanks for following along.
Very very very interesting and provocative.
You two are wonders, Kit and Randy!!!
Thanks, Carol. It was such a fascinating experience, I felt I had to share it. I’m glad it resonated with you.
Thanks for the insights I appreciate the thoughts and quandary you outlined.
Greg, I was happy to share my experience with you. I’d had second thoughts about going when Randy nudged me, encouraging me because the unusual opportunity it was. And it was!
Where do you even start?
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Water, I think. Which is right where Kit went to. -rc
Terry, it does feel overwhelming. Through my western eyes they have so many needs. But, what do they *really* need? As Randy pointed out, I feel clean water is their most important need. I hope Al acts on that.
I know a man from India who spent most of his life managing and directing humanitarian-type organizations, first in India, then S-E Asia (including the Philippines), then world-wide. He just retired. When he was a young veterinarian in India, seeking to help impoverished rural folks, an older man approached him and said, “Can you get us more water?” (or maybe “clean water”, not sure.) Ravi answered, “I’m sorry, that’s not what we are doing.” The man said, “Then what good are you to us?”, turned around and walked away. Ravi said it changed his perspective, and in fact, his life.
Jim, that’s a great story. Do you know more of it? What did it change for Ravi? What different actions did he take because of those pearls?
This is very interesting. I found a sailboat page called sailing_songbird that was living on Lamotrek for a month and he has similar experiences. Wonderful people and lots of food as their love language. Their only income comes from cruises too but very few stop by.
I hadn’t even considered where they get their clean water.
I do know all the youngsters move to the main island for an education and USA allows them to come visa free. So their participation level is up to them. Wants and needs can be addressed that way, at least. But the rub is how to preserve the old ways at the same time.
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Right. (For others: Lamotrek is a coral atoll of three islands in the central Caroline Islands.) Interesting about their ability to freely go to the U.S. While the island came under the control of the U.S. and was administered as part of the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands after WWII, it became part of the Federated States of Micronesia in 1979. -rc