I gave no real thought to practicalities when I acquired the land, I was overwhelmed by the island’s stunning natural beauty and surreal features.  My heart won the battle over my head and I was sold.

As the boat pulled away from the beach on my last visit there over a year ago, I could not bear to look back. Still, the hauntingly mystical vision of the island kept appearing in my mind’s eye, and will remain forever.

The island is named Dumunpalit, which means in the local Cuyonin dialect “the place of no change.” 

Dumunpalit is one of the most  magical places that one could ever imagine. The amazing limestone and red agate cliffs rising out of the turquoise waters, the immense fine white sand beach, the eerie caves with wave worn polished walls at all angles, and its remote setting both make one feel that this island should really be home to Dr. No.

This part of the Philippines is 350 miles from the troubled Muslim areas to the south, and is very safe with crime almost unheard of. There are rumours of Pirates sailing the seas to the south in Indonesia, but these are more likely to be nothing other than the brightly coloured local fishing boats. 

From YKR airport a 20 minute jeepney ride takes you to the mouth of the San Jose River.

Often, dolphins tag along as the boat cuts though the long rolling waves in the smooth, deep blue waters. As the hour passes, details of Dumunpalit, isolated by ocean for ten to fifty miles on all sides, become clearer - especially the gigantic rock columns, cliffs, and stone “blades” that hang over the ends of wide beaches and the encircling, foaming surf. The island profile and lush  curves are enchanting, and a full roundabout visual tour is again requested from the captain. 

The lure of Dumunpalit feels primordial and transcendental. The desire to explore is overwhelming. The "needle" rocks, the island's turtle shape with four massive rock flippers and projecting headland, the central three hundred foot forested dome allure and delight visitors. 

The network of caves at the water's edge, below the sheer limestone walls, spawns local legends of Japanese gold hidden at the end of the last big war. Although to date none has been found.

On the southeast, there is no surrounding reef and the boat slides up to the shore. If it is calm enough, which is usually most of the time, we can disembark directly on the beach, which is hundreds of feet deep at this point, big enough for a stadium football field. The beach then S-curves around a corner for almost 2000 feet. This is the "front" side of the island, where lies the flattest areas, below the dominating, but protective hills. The "back" side also has numerous beaches, but they are backed up by almost insurmountable slopes and cliffs, mostly covered by trees, shrubs, grass, or rock faces. 

After settling in, unpacking, and a quick shower and snack, we drift along the beach to splash a little in the lapping waves, and go ahead and take that first swim in the four foot deep sandy bottomed, reef-tamed ocean water.

Then the path leads inland to a clearing with banana and citrus trees, and two wells at the base of the hillside. The manual water pump calls me over, and I pump the handle to test the clear drinking water. Surrounded by miles of salt water- and here, delicious fresh water! A sense of security descends. Due to the size of the hill, there is plenty of fresh potable water here year round- many more wells could be dug to provide water for dozens of residents.

The night is spent without mosquitos- they must have missed this island, because their presence is rare and my mosquito net is still packed away. At first the crashing of small waves on the beach twenty feet away is keeping me awake, but soon it becomes a lull that ensures peaceful sleep. There are a few strange jungle sounds - particularly a dog like barking that can be attributed to a sort of forest pheasant.

The next day I end up just wandering around mesmerized by all the amazing rock formations that seem to be from Mars or one of Saturn’s moons, or maybe Tibet. It would be great if I could find a geologist to explain how so many of these varied things came to be on the same island. 

At the first of the four south towers there is an entrance on land at its base into a cave which turns and opens into the ocean. Waves roll in on a sandy bottom, and I wade out and walk chest deep along the tower’s ocean side rock wall to a fifty foot tall natural stone arch, where waves collide from entering on both sides. There are deep cracks into the rock wall wherein various shells have been jammed by storms, and as high tide advances, the waves get higher so I return to the beach.

Sitting under a tree looking at seagulls skimming the surf before me, I wonder who will be the new caretaker of “the island of no change.” 

But most Americans, Canadians, and Europeans think in terms of titled land and title insurance, even mortgages! None of these apply to Dumunpalit, which is “tax declaration,” a preliminary step towards full entitlement and recordation in the national lands registry. A moratorium on entitlement of Philippine islands was lifted in 2003, and now this is possible with 10 or more years proof of “tax declaration” status (which my attorney has). The reason Filipino islands are inexpensive is because of lack of full title (usually) and the ownership restrictions. 

However, after studying the situation, I was convinced that there was no cause to fear for my investment, neither from squatters (none of which I saw or heard of in Palawan), nor the government, who is very keen to encourage foreign investors. There is an investor’s permanent multiple entry residency visa with a $100,000 investment and the usual paperwork, police clearances, etc. 

Most of the resorts in Palawan are foreign owned. Nearby Club Paradise belongs to a German- and the Sangat Resort near Coron is built on timberland status land, owned by someone from UK. 

My conclusion is, as I began back on the forest pathway, that it will take an open-minded, adventurous foreigner to assume responsibility for this piece of heaven. Someone who can think out of the box. I collect some cuttlebones for my parrots - which I guess are from some sort of sealife. A weaving, crisscrossing trail of a monitor lizard’s tail and its double rows of footprints marks the otherwise tide-smoothed surface of the blinding white coral sands. These monitors hide by day in between large rocks up on the hill and come out at night to hunt smaller lizards, crabs, and mice. I came upon a big one once, but it was petrified and ran off.

The island has many birds and is home to the rare Philippine eagle. I noted several species of butterflies, dragonflies, bumblebees, bats, red flowering coral trees, an unidentified lavender flowering tree, the harmless Pacific boa. As far as I know, there are no poisonous snakes, scorpions or insects. The island feels quite benign, actually. The sun can get hot since this is not far from the equator but in the shade the cooling sea breezes are quite refreshing.

I decide to try and circle the island by the shore, making it to the “lost” caves in the northeast peninsula of towering rock “blades,” and around to another big beach adjacent to the massive rock “turtle’s head,” around which is too much for me to negotiate with giant boulders at the bottom of cliffs over 100 feet high. Climbing the steep hillside, I reach the saddle meadowland between the big 300 foot hill and the lesser 200 foot hill. This could be a nice building site, being a couple acres flat area just above the little valley down below, near the owner’s cottage.

Returning to the well, I take a quick shower by bucket, and retire to tell tales of my explorations to my diary. I found several hidden smaller beaches with rock spires off the shore, with holes through their center like needles. I named these islets the “Needle Rocks.” There are pieces of red, orange, and blue coral here and there. The caves glowed red from the agate’s deep color, and reflected in the tidal pools, it was a strange effect. On the rear of the second stone tower is a slope covered with one or two inch square chips of marble, breaking off and sliding down from the rocks above. There is certainly plenty of good building stone here.

There are numerous rocks and islets surrounding the main island, which provide roosts for birds and create fascinating wave and tide action. The reef-protected lagoon makes a great anchorage for shallow draft boats such as catamarans or the local spiderboats. There are fifty mature coconut trees, many having been cut down by passing fishermen in years past, but now I have planted many new ones. There are no sandflies or gnats- no bug problem at any time of the year, wet or dry season. The rains start in May and last into December, and sometimes in April the ocean is as calm as glass.

Construction might have been a bigger challenge was it not for the modest Palawan freighter that passes by each week stopping at minor ports on the way to Puerto Princessa. 

This freighter will sidetrack to Dumunpalit and offload supplies for construction at a very reasonable rate, direct from Manila. Bamboo walls in a roll are called siwali and are very inexpensive for making cottages; siwali is available in Coron.

Dumunpalit, I say to myself, is the refuge I have been searching for all these years- all across the good old USA, down to the Caribbean islands, including Grenada, Trinidad, Tobago, and on to the Fiji archipelago and other parts of the south Pacific. Dumunpalit was the culmination of a 7 year journey: a natural, pristine environment with taxes less than a $100 a year. An explorer's paradise, hiker's fantasy, diver's dream, swimmer's delight, a soul’s home.

But how long could I live in total separation from the rest of the planet? Would I  miss the cities, masses of people, cars, stores, internet? Internet? That, I learned, was very economically reasonable through several satellite-served providers in the Philippines, so with a solar photovoltaic power arrangement and a satellite dish, I could check on the outside world whenever I wanted to. Just to make sure all of that out there was still there, was not getting any better since I left it, and that which I managed to escape.

But then I remember… I need a bigger place for my cows and orchards. And that’s why I must sell Dumunpalit, since if I can’t be here to care for this very special remnant of some prehistoric era, then someone else who was qualified should. After all, how can I be in two places at once? The 300 acres I recently purchased on a Central American Pacific island with its mile long beach, rainforests, iguanas, turtle breeding grounds, running streams, and hilltop housesite with killer views, are waiting for me. And there’s plenty of pasture for my Jersey/Cebu cross breeding program and self sufficiency goals on my part of this new island. 

But that’s another story.