THE DINAGAT SQUIDBOYS

By: Bro. Geminiano V. Galarosa, Jr.
Dagohoy Lodge No 84
(HM- LL 185, JS 169 and RP 147)


There are about thirty of them who have recently transferred to the entire stretch of Tabajan beach but only ten are at the shoreline fronting the lion’s backyard. The ten came all the way from barangay Navarro at Balesila town in Surigao, more specifically at Dinagat Island where the charismatic Ruben Ecleo rules over his religious flock.

These ten fishermen are recent migrants to our place working for “Bo” Ampong, one of our neighbors, whose business acumen made him lord over the place not only as buyer of “semilla” (fish fingerlings) and “pinyahon” (white marlin), but very recently, “nucus” (squid) that is the subject of this story. “Nucus” by the way, is what the Spaniards call “calamares” that kind of squid you usually see in that can called “Portola” that was said to have been manufactured from Los Angeles, in California, USA.


Squid fishing is a profession in itself. Equipped with pumpboat, a speedlight that consist of an ordinary flashlight powered by three 1.5 volts D-size batteries and a blinking light-bulb, a specially designed squid-hook that has about 30 metal claws, a styrofoam container that already is stuffed with ice in it to preserve the catch, sufficient gasoline to transport him to the fishing area and back, and packed “baon” (dinner) to last him while at sea.

They say going to the fishing area lasts about an hour and also takes about the same time going back to base. Fishing is done during darkness, with moonless nights considered as generally lucky. On these evenings one can catch as much as sixty kilos, with each fisherman working solo on his pumpboat. On bad evenings however, especially when the undersea current is really turbulent, one may come home without a single catch.

More than half of them own their pumpboats and the rest work for others who are generally their relatives. Most are married but a few bachelors whose lives they had been accustomed to also embrace the occupation that they have learned from their forefathers. Dinagat Island, being a generally backward town that does not offer good educational opportunities, can only offer what source of livelihood nature provides- the bounties of the pristine sea.

The lion was told (hey! what the heck is a lion doing at sea?) that to catch squid, the fisherman immerse the speedlight about three inches down the water at the fringes of Mindanao sea with the bulb merrily blinking, much like the Christmas lights one is attracted to in bawdy houses (hoy! kayong mga mahilig sa tsiks kung gabi!! and the lion will not dare translate this phrase to English; let our Occidental brothers figure this out), submerges the specially-designed fishhook about two-arms length and when he feels a heavy tug, pulls the nylon cord up to get his catch and deposit it to the packing material that was explained earlier. And this is not an easy thing. Hauling sixty kilos from down the sea to the boat can get your biceps numb by the strenuous activity. But do they mind?! Not the least, for with a bountiful catch, he is unlike the fellowcraft who sat on the tummy of the dead GMHA (remember the third degree ritual?) who said: “I am weary and worn out. . . . Alas, this is the result of evil companionship. . .” But when there weariness is supplanted by acute loneliness, they would simply numb it with a bottle of “lapad” (not the long-neck) of Tanduay Rhum to finally put them to sleep only to wake up the next day and face the same ordeal.

But let the lion get back to the Squidboys before this writer waylays the reader into another suspenseful, albeit, unmasonic topic.

Richard, the Dinagat guy who was interviewed together with Upiong, a Guindlumanon fisherman, said that ordinarily they would return home after about two months stay in the place and would, as a minimum, remit to their respective families about P10,000 and about P20,000 as the upper limit. Not bad as take home pay but definitely not as good as the seafarers who are employed abroad even as rust-removers of ocean going vessels we call “seaman” out there working lonely at the five parts of the globe we all call the sea.

And how do they care for their pumpboats? How else but like the cowboys who cared for their horses while in the prairies, and on this figurative speech, the Occidentals definitely have the edge!!

Their choice of Guindulman beach as staging area is understandable. Its bay provide a safe refuge whenever “habagat” (hey! how do you translate this word to English?, don’t expect the lion to have a vocabulary for this, he is but a lion and his habitat is not the sea!), and the townsfolk are generally peaceful and amiable. On the other side, despite the unpalatable gossip that hounds Ruben Ecleo and his flock, these Dinagat boys are generally peaceful when compared to other folks. They are undoubtedly complacent people who deserves mention until the time one rascal should prove the lion wrong. This is not to say that the lion did not give a stern warning to “Bo” Ampong. He said “be wary about your subalterns, you have a beautiful niece that can be subjected to a dastardly act that you might regret later on!”

And that ends the tale of a group of people who would venture to earn their livelihood the hard way and honestly without stealing the few remaining centavos that you still have on your almost empty pockets today
!!