A bucket-list location of legendary reputation, Anilao attracts divers and underwater photographers from around the world due to its beautiful reefs and intriguing macro life. Scott Bennett recounts his return to this biodiversity hotspot.
At Kirby’s Rock: Reef scene with gorgonians, anthias, feather stars, blue thorny stem sponge Gelliodes fibulata and a Chromodoris sp. nudibranch
Contributed by
As the birthplace of Philippine diving, Anilao has long been a favourite with both local and overseas divers alike. Situated 124km south of Manila, this rugged stretch of the Calumpan Peninsula in Batangas Province has been attracting divers since the 1960s. Each weekend, divers from Manila join overseas visitors to experience some of the finest diving in the Philippines. Along with a number of adjacent islands, this relatively compact area boasts a wide range of sites, offering flourishing reefs and abundant fish life.
However, Anilao’s real claim to fame is its macro life. It is especially renowned for its nudibranchs, with a staggering 700 species having been documented in the area. In fact, nudibranch enthusiasts regard Anilao as a world hotspot for observing these colourful invertebrates.
Getting there
I first visited Anilao back in 2001 when I was working in Manila. The dive shop I frequented ran trips nearly every weekend, and I quickly became one of their best customers. At that time, however, just getting there took some effort. The highway from Manila to Batangas ended abruptly. From there, one had to negotiate a convoluted series of back roads to reach Anilao. Accommodation was much more basic, consisting of simple resorts, lodges and guesthouses. How things have changed!
With the highway finally completed, the travel time from Manila has now been reduced to two and a half hours. This time, I arrived in Batangas after taking an overnight ferry from Romblon Island. From the enormous new ferry terminal, it was a 40-minute drive to Anilao, with a good portion of that negotiating Batangas morning traffic.
The resort
My last visit was back in 2015, and the changes were apparent on the drive in. A multitude of resorts had sprung up, with many high-end options. My home for the next six days was the Buceo Anilao Resort, which definitely fell within the latter category. Attractively nestled on a forest-clad hillside, the resort was accessed by a short boat ride and featured 23 spacious rooms, a pool, a spa, a restaurant and a sunset bar. Naturally, being in Anilao, it also had its very own house reef.
Upon checking in, I was shown to my room. As it was at the very top, I would definitely be getting in my exercise! A terrace offered expansive views of the resort and the ocean beyond. A very cool touch was a painted image of a diver, with the fire extinguisher “resting” on his back.
Having just missed the first dive, I headed to the dining room where I enjoyed chicken adobo—the national dish of the Philippines—followed by a bowl of ube (purple yam) ice cream. I have a weakness for the latter and indulged in it every day. No matter—all the diving would compensate for the calories.
Dive facilities
Belly full, it was time to get my gear organised. On hand to meet me was marketing manager Dood Santos, who showed me the diving facilities. The spacious camera room had 22 workstations, each with ample space and outlets for charging. Fortunately, I could leave my gear in the camera room for the night, as I did not relish the prospect of carrying it back and forth to my room.
Dood then introduced me to June Ilagan, who would be my dive guide for the week. Jovial and enthusiastic, June had worked as a dive guide at the resort for 12 years, so I knew I was in good hands. Straight off, he asked me what I wanted to see. We all have our critter bucket lists, but I always hesitate to make such requests, as we all know that nature does not appear on command. That said, Anilao’s abundance of critters, combined with Buceo’s knowledgeable guides, ensured that any request was not only possible but likely. Aside from bobtail squid, bobbit worm, flamboyant cuttlefish and mimic octopus, my really big item (which is really tiny) would have to be a Shaun the Sheep nudibranch. Fingers crossed!
Diving
From the resort, dive sites can be reached within a few minutes to an hour. With the exception of the house reef, all diving is done by bangka, the ubiquitous outrigger boat found throughout the country. Although diving in Anilao is possible year-round, the best times are the dry months between November and May. Luckily for me, my arrival coincided with peak conditions. Well, almost.
Buceo House Reef. Our first site was the Buceo House Reef, which had a shore entry in front of the resort. The site was classic Anilao muck, featuring volcanic sand gradually sloping to deeper water. Aside from sporadic coral clumps, the site seemed lifeless, but as any Anilao veteran knows, appearances can be deceiving. The barren substrate was critter central, and it did not take long to find our first subject. Naturally, it was a nudibranch—a Janolus savinkini, to be exact—and one that I had only seen on a few occasions.
Having been to Anilao before, I was familiar with many of the nudibranchs, but I could immediately tell that this time would be different. Not only were there species that I had rarely or never seen before, but many of them were minuscule and undoubtedly juveniles. Fortunately, I had my 10x close-up dioptre for shooting extreme macro subjects. Although I had bought it years earlier, I had not really used it much. Fortunately, I got the hang of it on Romblon, and it quickly became a valuable asset in my photo arsenal.
So, back to that J. savinkini nudibranch (at least, I think that is what it was), also known as the purple-tipped janolus. I took my time, trying out various compositions and strobe angles until I was happy with the results. We moved on to equally compelling subjects, including a tiny shrimp on a finger coral, several more unfamiliar nudibranchs, along with a Doto ussi dendronotid, an Eubranchus sp. aeolid on a hydroid and a tiny Phyllodesmium sp. aeolid, which was a mere speck in the frame with the dioptre lens. What a start!
Mainit. After a surface interval and a coffee, I could not get back into the water fast enough! Our night dive was at Mainit, which is located at the southernmost point of the Calumpan Peninsula and is only ten minutes from the resort. Translated as “hot” from the native Tagalog language, Mainit is named for the hot springs bubbling from the seabed.
Below, a craggy slope is strewn with boulders, each shrouded with a vivid palette of soft corals, sponges and anemones. I had done day dives on previous visits to this site, but this would be my first-ever night dive. As conditions were a bit rough, it was sheltered enough to ensure a safe dive.
Night diving has always been one of my favourite things to do, and Mainit did not disappoint. Illuminated by our torch beams, the reef was a kaleidoscope of vivid colours. Yellow cup corals proliferated on the reef, their outstretched tentacles grasping at passing nutrients. Reef fish slumbered in nooks and crannies while abundant nudibranchs included Doriprismatica atromarginata, Goniobranchus fidelis and Halgerda batangas, to name a few.
The undisputed highlight was a Donald Duck shrimp, a species that I had long wanted to photograph. Even better, it was perched atop a bright blue starfish (I swear, we did not put it there). A football-sized sponge crab trundled past, a subject comically large for a 105mm macro lens. After only two dives, Anilao was firing on all cylinders. I could not wait to see what the rest of the week had in store!
Over a late dinner, I attempted to identify the unknown nudibranchs online but came across a brand-new dilemma. Until now, species have had different names depending on the guidebook. For years, my go-to guide has been 1001 Nudibranchs by the late, great Neville Coleman. However, since its publication, several families appear to have changed, with some in the Chromodoris genus now classified as Goniobranchus sp., and some in the Glosso-doris genus now given the species name atromarginata. Confused? Join the club. If I have made any identification errors, I apologise in advance.
After an early breakfast, I headed to the camera room for a final check on my equipment. After a briefing at the dive centre, we headed for our bangka, where all the gear was assembled and waiting. This impeccable service can really spoil a person; I dread the day I have to do it all myself!
Bubbles Point. The day began at Bubbles Point, a stone’s throw from our night dive at Mainit. Nudibranchs were the star attraction, including Flabellina rubrolineata, Nembrotha chamberlaini, Phyllidia elegans, Hypselodoris emma, Flabellina bilas, Murphydoris cobbi, Goniobranchus fidelis and a pair of mating Halgerda batangas. A lone robust ghost pipefish seemed like it had wandered in from another dive site.
Twin Rocks has always been one of my favourite sites, and I could not wait for a return visit. Only minutes from the resort by bangka, a slope descends to the namesake rocks, which just peek above the surface at low tide. Both are shrouded with corals, ascidians and tunicates, and are a magnet for a multitude of critters.
There were bubble coral shrimp, blue-spotted stingrays, whip coral xeno crabs, and black and blue ribbon eels, along with various nudibranchs. A thrilling surprise was a banded sea krait foraging amongst the rocks. Being so close to one of the world’s most venomous snakes was a touch unnerving, but it paid me no heed. Near the end, a very chill hawksbill sea turtle allowed a close approach. Equipped for macro, I had to be content with taking portraits. Life is tough…
The remainder of the week followed a similar pattern, with two morning dives followed by an afternoon and night dive. Due to wind and strong currents resulting from the new moon, diving was limited to sites with sheltered conditions.
Arthur’s Seat. Located south of Eagle Rock, this dive site featured nudibranchs such as Goniobranchus hintuanensis, Chromodoris willani and Goniobranchus kuniei, while anemones hosted porcelain crabs, commensal shrimp and peacock-tail anemone shrimp.
House Reef. The house reef quickly became a firm favourite, with each visit revealing a different cast of characters. I managed to do both day and night dives here, and each one was superb. Nudibranchs proved especially prolific. Along with familiar nudibranch species from the genera Chromodoris (sorry, Goniobranchus) and Nembrotha, there were plenty of new ones. There were T-bar nudibranchs, Ceratosoma tenue in assorted colour phases, Favorinus tsuruganus, and Polycera sp. and Flabellina sp. nudibranchs, along with giant and peacock mantis shrimp, ornate ghost pipefish and clown frogfish.
On night dives, snoozing saddleback anemonefish could be approached closely—a far cry from their aggressive daytime personas. While removing my fins on one dive, I nearly impaled myself on a dwarf lionfish in under 2m of water. Never a dull moment on the house reef! Nothing was ever the same, even within a 24-hour period, which begs the question: “Where does everything go?”
Secret Bay. Situated on the other side of the peninsula from the resort, towards Batangas, Secret Bay proved to be equally prolific. With depths ranging from 10 to 20m, skeleton shrimp, orange and black dragonet, dwarf cuttlefish, sawblade shrimp, harlequin crabs, decorator crabs and sundial shells could all be found. A favourite amongst photographers is the Thecacera pacifica nudibranch, nicknamed “Pikachu” due to its resemblance to the Japanese Pokémon character. On one dive, I saw six of them in both the silver-grey and orange colour phases, along with various unfamiliar species.
Since my last visit in 2015, a number of new sites have been discovered, and I was fortunate enough to dive at three of them: Vivere, Mainit School and Heidi’s Point. Located near the resort, Vivere—also known as Onad’s Point—features a slope with a small drop-off and large boulders.
After watching the guides all week, I started recognising where to find certain critters. Whip corals are often home to gobies, xeno crabs and whip coral shrimp, so I usually stop for a closer look. As my contact lenses are for distance vision, seeing things up close is somewhat challenging. While examining one specimen, I discovered a goby. As it was quite mobile, I was intent on capturing it. While editing photos on my laptop that evening, I made some happy discoveries. Not only were there two gobies in some shots, but I had also captured an Anker’s whip coral shrimp, which I had not noticed at all when I took the shot!
There were also plenty of fire urchins, which can host zebra crabs or Coleman shrimp. Happily, it ended up being both! Coleman shrimp are amongst my all-time favourite critters, and we found several, including a pair that posed obligingly for photos.
Mainit School. Located just past Secret Bay was the Mainit School dive site, situated in front of, unsurprisingly, the Mainit School. Another classic Anilao muck site, its gentle volcanic sand slope abounded with subjects, including a Chelidonura amoena nudibranch on an ascidian, a strikingly patterned disc anemone shrimp and a school of coral shrimpfish.
Heidi’s Point. However, my favourite of the trio was Heidi’s Point, and it was one that I nearly missed. I was set for an afternoon dive when just before departure, I made an unnerving discovery in the camera room. I had set the vacuum pump on my housing before lunch to ensure a watertight seal, but the pressure had reverted to zero. Was there a leak, or had I accidentally bumped it, letting air in? To be safe, I decided to skip the dive. In the end, I had bumped it, and the seal was fine. So, what did they see at Heidi’s Point? Various frogfish, flamboyant cuttlefish and a mimic octopus! Figures…
The following day, I pleaded with June to return to Heidi’s Point, and he happily obliged. With depths ranging between 10 and 25m, we headed straight for the deep to maximise bottom time. Although the mimic octopus remained elusive, there were critters galore!
Straight away, we found a juvenile Ambon scorpionfish that was so tiny, I could not even tell what it was at first. This was followed in rapid succession by pygmy yellow gobies in a bottle and both juvenile painted and hairy frogfish. The undisputed highlight of the dive was a pair of flamboyant cuttlefish—the first I had seen on the entire trip! Watching them patrol the sandy bottom in search of food was an absolute joy.
On a few occasions, when the sea was not too choppy, we ventured across the channel to some muck sites on Tingloy Island. The Red Palm dive site revealed squat shrimp, a triggerfish hiding in a barrel sponge, a black frogfish and even more nudibranchs. Subjects at the Coconut dive site proved to be a bit elusive, but the site still yielded bristle worms, porcelain crabs, commensal shrimp and orangutan crabs. However, one special critter more than made up for it. I finally got to see a Costasiella kuroshimae, endearingly known as the “Shaun the Sheep” sea slug.
Only 7 millimetres in length, this sea slug possesses a unique trait called kleptoplasty: the ability to extract and retain chloroplasts from the algae it consumes. This allows it to supplement its diet with photosynthetic provisions.
Boasting cartoony dots for eyes, it has to be one of the most endearing of all sea slugs. Photographing it, however, was another matter. Even with a 10x dioptre, it was minuscule in the frame and nearly impossible to focus on. A head-on portrait was the money shot, and I spent the remainder of the dive trying to get it. Switching to a vertical composition, I waited as it crawled to the edge of the algae. For one brief moment, it paused, facing my camera. Mission accomplished!
Anilao Pier. After five days of superlative diving, June arguably left one of the best sites for last. For my final night dive, we ventured to Anilao Pier, a site I had long known about but had never dived. As it was located at the opposite end of the peninsula, getting there before sunset demanded an earlier departure. I had no complaints, though, as the hour-long journey was beautiful in the late afternoon light.
Although it is called Anilao Pier, the actual site was situated in the bay, some distance from the jetty. With a seabed of pure silt punctuated by the occasional branch or bottle, it certainly would not win any accolades for scenic beauty. However, looks were not the attraction here—this was macro nirvana!
With current non-existent and depths of no more than 3m, we set out across the seemingly barren substrate. Although things started slowly, it did not take long for the show to begin. A stargazer snake eel gazed skyward while a Scheele’s conger retreated backwards into its burrow at lightning speed.
From then on, the critter parade continued at a rapid clip. A flash of red in my torch beam turned out to be a blue-eyed stingfish, a small member of the scorpionfish family. A long-arm octopus was followed by a trio of snake eels: a black-finned snake eel, a banded snake eel and a third that I still cannot identify. I practically yelped into my regulator when I found a tiny bobtail squid, another of my favourite subjects.
The yelps continued as the next sighting was a doozy. What appeared to be a small post protruding from the sand turned out to be a bobbit worm. Before I could react, it retreated into its burrow, no doubt startled by my torch beam. I was still able to get some photos with the mouth still clearly visible.
Suddenly, I was interrupted by a frantic torch signal from June. “Seriously, you’re dragging me away from a bobbit worm?” I thought to myself, with annoyance and bewilderment. Then again, if June was insistent, it must be special, so I followed him. Only metres away, a coconut octopus perched atop a bottle, with a pair of empty shells in front of it. It was so perfectly staged that it was almost as if June had set up the entire scene for my benefit.
After 80 minutes of exhilaration, June indicated he was cold. Even I was starting to feel the chill, so we decided to call it a night. Amazingly, I surfaced with just under half a tank of air left. It was official: June was a rock star!
Sadly, my final day of diving had arrived, but since I was going to Manila for a few days afterwards, I was able to go diving before my afternoon departure. After six solid days of shooting macro, I was eager for some wide-angle photography. With all the wonderful muck sites on offer, it was easy to forget that Anilao also has stunning reefs.
Kirby’s Rock. As conditions had calmed, we ventured to Tingloy Island for a two-tank dive at Kirby’s Rock—another of my favourite sites. A splendid diversity of corals resides here, attracted by the nutrients provided by the strong currents that sweep the site. But there was a dilemma in the form of two words: pygmy seahorses.
I decided to bring both a macro and a wide-angle lens, switching between them during the surface interval. Starting off with the macro lens, we plunged in and headed straight for the pygmy seahorses in a fan coral at 28m. To maximise bottom time, the guides split us into two groups. As the first group went down, I stayed around 18m. After muck diving, the reef was like another planet.
Clouds of anthias congregated amongst branching green Tubastrea sp. corals, while innumerable crevices and overhangs hosted morays of several species, along with nudibranchs and anemones bursting with clownfish. Yellow robust sea cucumbers dominated every surface, adding to the already intense palette.
Straight away, I found a white leaf scorpionfish—the first one of the week. Another first was a massive giant frogfish posing on a ledge. I would definitely seek him out later with my wide-angle lens. I was immediately struck by the number of eels, including blue-ribbon, white-eyed, snowflake and zebra morays. The pygmy seahorse refused to look directly at the camera (as they annoyingly do), but I managed to grab a few shots.
Switching to a wide-angle lens for the second dive proved a bit challenging. The water was green from the week’s unsettled conditions, so I concentrated on taking frame-filling images of the reef. The giant frogfish was still there, but it had decided to become mobile, hopping along the wall as I managed to capture a few close-up, wide-angle images. For the remainder of the dive, I was practically overwhelmed by the variety of colours, forms and textures, which kept my camera shutter in overdrive.
Final thoughts
Upon returning to the resort, it was time to pack up for my transfer back to Manila. Despite six days of diving, I had barely scratched the surface, visiting only a smattering of the 50 dive sites on hand. Anilao never ceases to surprise, and this proved accurate on this visit, particularly in the nudibranch department. I have photographed many species here over the years, but this time around, the majority were new to me. It took some serious research to identify them all. In the end, I saw around 50 of the 700 species found in this area. I guess I will have to come back for the rest. ■
