The crossing from Roxas to Caticlan is the longest leg of the long way round, and the only one where I stopped checking the time. The boat leaves late morning. The sea is the colour of weak tea for the first hour and then, without announcement, turns blue.
The stairs
Every long ferry has a place where people end up: a bench, a corner, a gap between two lifejackets. On this boat it is the staircase to the upper deck. It has shade, a rail to lean on and a view of both the deck and the horizon. By noon it holds a card game, two sleeping students and me.
Nobody tells you the stairs are the best seat. You find out the way everyone finds out: by arriving late and taking whatever is left.
By noon the stairs held a card game, two sleeping students and me.
Lunch
Lunch is whatever you brought, or whatever the canteen has left, which is usually noodles and a cold egg. A family shares a pot of rice from a plastic container and offers me some without looking up. I say no, thank you, and then I accept, because the alternative is noodles.
Arriving
The islands show up slowly. First a shadow, then a ridge, then houses. The boat swings wide, slows and noses into Caticlan with the confidence of something that has done this every day for years. You will see the tourist boats first, painted in colours that photograph well. Walk past them. Your next boat, to the island itself, is a different story.
Times and the order of stops in this story are samples from one trip. Check with the operator before you travel.