I explained again that I was a journalist and very interested in martial arts and ethnic minorities, but he didn’t buy it.

Back in the home of Albataya, a man named Joseph introduced himself. He spoke passable English and said that for 500 Pesos he would arrange for me to go diving the next day on his brother in law’s boat. His brother in law was Albataya’s husband, Jaji.

That night I got a call from Marifi, my guide from the Tak Balay Foundation. She said Albataya didn’t trust Joseph and could I please give the money directly to Jaji. “No problem,” I answered. I didn’t trust Joseph either. In fact it turned out he wasn’t even a Badjao.

A while later I got a call from Joseph asking if he could come and pick up the money. I said absolutely not, I would pay Jaji in the morning. A few hours later, my government appointed security guard also called Joseph, to say he was coming along with me, and to reaffirm, once again, that I would pay Jaji directly.

At 6:00 the next morning Joseph called and said he was sorry but he had to cancel the trip. I called Marifi and cancelled my security.

An hour later, when I walked out of the hotel, there were Jaji and Albatay, waiting for me. They had walked, barefooted, all the way from their settlement, carrying an empty petrol canister. I called Marifi, and by phone, she translated for me. The trip was on, but minus one Joseph. A new security guard was arranged, and an hour later, I was on my way with security officer Oliver, Jaji, Albatay, and five children, ranging in age from 3 year-old Jasper to 13 year-old Sadam.

Along the way, we stopped at a gas station where I handed Jaji the 500 Pesos I’d promised. Showing who was boss, he immediately handed the money to Albataya, who bought snacks for all of the children. The Kids were going crazy, eating these store-bought treats which were obviously a rare windfall for them. I pulled out my camera and suddenly, the whole village wanted their photo taken. In particular, they asked me to photograph their babies.

Watching the children run along the gunwales and jumping from boat to boat, while eating their candy, I was amazed at their incredible agility, and balance. More than anything, I was amazed at how fearless they were. But why not? This was their world.  And I was just a visitor.

As we pulled away from the village, I saw how ingenious the Badjao were, and how adept they were at reusing garbage and turning it into something useful. There was a large fishing raft, made of bamboo, supported by pontoons of fishing nets stuffed with Styrofoam containers and plastic bags.  Our boat was itself a Gilligan’s Island technological marvel. The Badjao typically used long, slender boats, which were then modified. They turned them into outriggers by attaching bamboo armor on both sides. Boards were laid across the armor to be used as sleeping spaces. An old tarp strung across the rigging was the sun shield. The cross piece of the anchor was also homemade, made of wood.

The boys had a pair of homemade, wooden swim fins. Jaji was wearing a pair of wooden goggles, held on with a piece of string. His spear gun was also homemade. The shaft, approximately a meter and a half long, was carved from wood. The deadly weapon utilized a large rubber band for propulsion. The trigger was made of a bent piece of wire-like metal. The fishing line was held fast with a one-way plastic tie.

Jaji made a joke that I took up most of the room in the boat. Oliver laughed, but then I asked him, “How can you be my security guard if I am bigger than you?” But as Oliver pointed out, there is almost no crime in Puerto Princesa.

As the oldest male, 13 year old Osama was expected to help steer the boat. He spent much of the journey sitting on the bow, tending an oar, which he controlled by wrapping his leg around it. He also followed after Jaji, learning to dive and fish. It was strange for me to be in the open sea with no life preserver, no buoyancy compensator, no tank, not even mask, snorkel, and fins.

The children were constantly in and out of the water swimming fearlessly. Even little Jasper, at three years old, was swimming and learning to dive.

“I am amazed.” I told Oliver.

“This is the life of the Badjao.” He pointed out.

“Still, I would like to take these kids to the sports complex and get them on the Puerto Princesa swim team.”

Jaji was also impressive. Osama and I swam behind him, but were soon lost. He dove impossibly deep.  We tried to follow him down, but the pressure on my ears was immense. I am a good swimmer, but I have never dived to depth without scuba gear. Jaji swam to the bottom and remained there. He simply walked on the bottom, holding his speargun as if he were hunting in the forest. Then, THWACK! He shot a fish in mid swim. He surfaced and tossed the fish in the general direction of the boat. The five year old boy, as agile as a monkey, sprang out on the armor and dangled, swinging from branch to branch. He retrieved the fish with one hand and swung back with the other proudly laying it at Albatya’s feet.

Jaji told us that in half a day of spear fishing they can get 20 kg of fish. They sell it for 700 pesos and pay 300 for gas. That leaves them 400 Pesos for the whole family. And again families often have as many as twelve children. The fathers don’t fish every day. So the families are extremely poor.

Albataya said none of the children could read. They went to school for a while but had to stop because the family couldn’t afford the 600 Pesos a year tuition. She said they also Find pearls, but a whole necklace sells for 150 Pesos, and obviously, it requires a lot of pearls to make a single necklace.

By the end of our short excursion Jaji had shot two good sized fish and a type of huge blowfish with poisonous spines. According to Oliver, the family can remove the skin and eat the fish. It was the prize of the day.

When asked why I wasn’t married I said that back on my island, Brooklyn, an Italian man couldn’t get a wife till he had found one thousand pearls. Luckily on our voyage we didn’t find even one.

Still single and certain I didn’t want become a fisherman, I signaled that it was time to go home. Along the way, I looked in the happy faces of Jaji and his family. They were extremely poor and their lives were so simple, but maybe because of that simplicity they had a freedom and peace that most of us will never know. We spend thousands of dollars for a fishing vacation in a tropical paradise. Jaji and his family live like that every day.