The Silent Echos of War

Two days later, we returned to Coron. Our guide had returned to our beach in a torrential downpour. It had rained both nights we had stayed there. Most of our belongings had been soaked due to tent malfunctions. Other highlights included a brief view of one of our neighbors a 2-meter monitor lizard who had made off with fish bones from our camp the previous night, as well as a successful bonfire which was maintained for our entire stay. Each morning the fire was rebuilt from its buried embers which had miraculously escaped the rain.

Now back in Coron, Maggie and I decided some diving was in order. With the temporary cards from our recent certifications, we signed up for a day of wreck diving at Rockbottom Dive Center under the recommendations of other travelers. 

We did three dives that day, all to Japanese warships sunk in WWII on September 24th, 1944. The US had sent in a large air raid, condemning at least twelve enemy vessels to their watery graves. In fact, it is unknown if there are additional undiscovered wrecks, as was explained by the diveshop owner with a wink. The number and frequency of wrecks in Coron distinguish it as a premier wreck diving location.

All three dives involved entering the wrecks. Using underwater flashlights, we swam through the dark corridors of these sleeping giants, passed through engine rooms, and made our way out through the fatal bomb hole wounds that ultimately sank them. One wreck lay on its side, another upright and the last on somewhat of an angle.

While inside the belly of these beasts, 100ft underwater, in the dark, as sediment gets kicked up reducing vision to inches, one can become quite disoriented. Knowing the risks involved, as well as an appreciation for the many who died in the decisive attack, we floated through the steel landscape with caution and deliberateness, silent except for our bubbles.