Island-Hopping Palawan: The Trip That Broke Down and Got Better

The Boat Broke Down. It Was the Best Part of the Trip.

I booked a day tour to island-hop around El Nido, on the northern tip of Palawan. What I got was a broken engine, a four-hour drift, and the clearest water I have ever seen in my life.

The Philippines kept doing this to me — handing me a setback that turned out to be a gift. I learned to stop fighting it.

The Lagoons

Even the name is romantic: the Big Lagoon, the Small Lagoon, the Secret Lagoon. They're carved into the base of these enormous limestone cliffs that shoot straight up out of the sea. You paddle in through a narrow gap in the rock and suddenly you're inside this calm, jade-green pool, cliffs on every side, the only sound your paddle.

The Small Lagoon you enter through a hole barely wider than a kayak. The boatmen timed it with the swell, shoving you through. On the other side, the water was so clear I could see fish from the surface as if the water wasn't there.

When the Engine Died

Somewhere between our second and third stop, the bangka's engine coughed, spluttered, and died. Our captain — a man of about sixty who communicated mostly in grins — spent forty minutes taking it apart with a screwdriver while we bobbed in the current. He couldn't fix it.

So we drifted. And here's the thing: with no engine, no schedule, and nothing to do but float, the day actually slowed down. We jumped off the boat into water so warm and clear it felt like swimming in air. Our captain cut open a pineapple with a machete and handed it around. Another tour boat eventually towed us to shore. Nobody panicked. Nobody was annoyed. It was the Philippines in miniature.

Nacpan Beach

Take a motorbike north from El Nido town and eventually you hit Nacpan — a four-kilometre stretch of palm-backed sand with barely anyone on it. I watched the sunset there alone, eating grilled corn from a vendor who insisted I take a second one for free. "You are my guest," he said. I tried to pay. He wouldn't have it.

This happened constantly. The hospitality in Palawan isn't performative; it's just how people are. A tricycle driver refused my tip because I'd "had a long day." A family invited me to share their lunch of fresh grilled fish on the beach. I have rarely felt so welcome anywhere.

What I'd Tell You

Stay longer than you think. I booked four nights and left after ten. The boats break, the weather turns, the good things happen slowly here.

Get a proper mask and snorkel. The reef life is extraordinary and the cheap tour gear is rubbish. Bring your own.

Talk to the boatmen. They know the hidden stops the tour itineraries don't include. We pulled into a tiny beach with nobody on it because our captain felt like showing us "a better one."

And if your engine dies in the middle of nowhere — relax. In Palawan, that's not a disaster. That's just the day taking a different shape.