From On Board: Swan Hellenic in the Philippines

#expeditioncruising .

After two and a half days at sea northwest of Raja Ampat, SH Minerva reached the first of the Philippines’ 7,641 islands—though only 7,107 remain at low tide. Spread across 1,800 kilometres of turquoise sea, the archipelago is home to more than 117 million people, yet many islands remain tiny, remote and accessible only by Zodiac.

Our first stop was Casulian, where villagers waited beneath swaying palms with shell necklaces, though we later asked if they could be recycled rather than continually taken from the ocean. Children waved enthusiastically while dancers and musicians welcomed us with infectious energy. Some passengers climbed to a panoramic summit lined with colourful flags and grass as soft as carpet, while others simply soaked up the warmth of the welcome. The handcrafted gifts may not have been necessary, but refusing them would have felt like rejecting kindness itself.

The famous winking tarsier

Further north in Bohol, the scenery shifted dramatically inland to the famous Chocolate Hills—more than 1,700 dome-shaped mounds stretching across the horizon like giant truffles. “There’s no chocolate,” our guide laughed. “We just call them that for marketing!” Nearby, we encountered the tiny tarsier, one of the world’s smallest primates. Phones were surrendered and voices lowered to protect the delicate creatures. Most slept soundly until one briefly opened a single eye in what looked remarkably like a wink. A few twitchers were equally thrilled to add another bird species to their tally.

At Digyo, the smallest of the Cuatro Isles, only a handful of locals live among dazzling white sand and clear water. Two guitarists in sombreros played as women danced in colourful dress, fishermen repaired nets stitch by stitch, boys climbed palms for coconuts, and villagers offered woven gifts made from pandan leaves.

Continuing north, Romblon revealed another side of the Philippines. We were greeted by beaming uniformed Coast Guards, a Miss Philippines contestant in sash, masked dancers and drummers near centuries-old churches and Spanish forts dating back to the 1500s. Motorised tricycles rattled along roads beside jeepneys, while workers at a marble factory laboured in intense heat with little visible protection. Yet there was no shortage of care for visitors, with makeshift medical tents and water stations thoughtfully erected along the way.

At Marinduque, the welcome began with a gentle traditional blessing, swaying dancers, guitars and wooden instruments carved from trees. We were handed fans along with cucumber and lemon juice in the tropical humidity, while men in fierce Morion masks and torso coverings contrasted with the soft warmth of the women, children, local mayor and governor.

Visiting just six islands barely scratched the surface of this vast archipelago, but the enduring memories were simple ones: music drifting across shorelines and broad smiles everywhere we landed. As we docked in Manila and prepared to leave the floating comfort of this “five-star hotel afloat,” it was hard to say goodbye not only to the Philippines, but also to the largely Filipino crew continuing on the next leg of their Swan Hellenic voyage.

SH Minerva alongside in Manila

On my fourth visit to the Philippines, I still haven’t had my fill of Filipino hospitality. Long after the beaches and tropical scenery fade, it is the warmth of the people—onshore. onboard and abroad—that lingers. I’ll be back; there are still more than 7,000 islands waiting.

All images by Catherine DeVrye

Catherine DeVrye is a best-selling author and occasional cruise guest lecturer. Her journey was self-funded, following an earlier Swan Hellenic voyage. Her 10th book, Beyond Timbuktu: Journeys of Hope & Humanity, will be released July 1, 2026. www.catherinedevrye.com

Tweet