I couldn't help but laugh at the idiots as the pushed their way to the front of the line, trying to be the first one to climb down into the boat, did they think we weren't all going to get a seat? I allowed them to push past me and when I finally did enter the boat chose one of the last few remaining seats. I thought I got lucky, as I didn't have to share my seat with anyone, but then as I looked around I realized everyone else had a nice think foam cushion under their ass while all I had was hard plywood, jerks. I decided to take advantage of the extra life jackets floating around and built myself a little cushion, which came in extra handy when I realized I was seated right next to the engine, ultimately turning my seat into a vibrating bench, oh yeah this was going to be fun.
Before we were allowed to leave the coast guard made a check of the boat, for what i'm not sure, but he did have a drug sniffing? dog along with him. After walking around and basically just chatting with the boat staff they were ready to leave, but apparently their dog was not. I took almost 10 minutes for them to get the dog off the boat, one of them finally having the sense to pick it up and carry it - and these are the people that will be saving us if we're in trouble? I tend to underestimate the length of things (distance, time, etc.) and this was a perfect example of such a situation, 8 hours on a boat? Ehh no problem, we'll be there in no time. I spent the first few hours quietly enjoying my surroundings, thinking about life, observing the other boat passengers and snapping a few pictures.
It was when one of the boatmen handed our mechanic a plastic bag and some thin wire that I started second guessing my earlier assumptions. There was a section of the engine that kept coming loose and ultimately leaking (possibly oil) and he was now trying to secure it with a tightly wound plastic bag. A few other passengers decided to come by and see what was going on, one of which, a big Russian man, thought he should try to help. I was embarrassed for him as he knelt down jabbing his finger at the broken portion of the engine, blabbering on and on in Russian. Clearly these boatmen don't speak English so I didn't think his Russian was gong to get very far with them, also his offer to help came across as more insulting, as if dismissing their ability. Although I was skeptical of their method,s I knew that they guys grew up on boats, this is their life, so i'd much rather trust them than some crazy Russian dude.
When we finally got off the boat it was just after 10pm, 13 hours after we left the port of El Nido, only five hours late, no biggie. My hunger problem was solved as they handed us a small box of pancit bihon and a bottle of water, FOOD. As I stood there relishing in the fact that we had made it and I had food, I heard a voice mutter "Well that was fun". I turned around to see Ian, one of the other solo passengers on board, and my new friend for the next few days. I guess everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?