The Coron wrecks

by Philip Habacon

	Post-dive is the happiest for every dive. Like all extreme sports, getting back in one piece is better than the actual rush.

They say most writers are dreamers. I believe pursuing our dreams allows us an open mind, one that wanders and builds plans. Doing so leads to a playground, one that’s fun to be around, like diving the Coron shipwrecks in the idyllic island of Palawan.

Diving Coron was a dream come true. To return to the Philippines healthier and wiser the main draw.

In the book, 55 Things Learned at 55, it tells how “birds migrate like some people do.” In fact, every Filipino born in the Philippines who moved to Canada is a brave soul.

November is the time of the year in Canada when chilly winds caress our faces, and we dress in layers. It’s the time to close our eyes to daydream and start imagining many things. Scuba diving can be one of them.

Located a short flight from Manila, diving the wreck of the World War II ship Akitsushima at Coron, Palawan, is like being in the Smithsonian Museum but in scuba gear. It was just one of a fleet of Japanese ships sunk by US Helldiver dive bombers in September 1944 and knowing how it was sunk was the icing on the cake.

As the banca left the rustic Coron pier, the surface condition was quiet. It was the calm before the storm! Called a slack tide, it’s a brief period of minimal water movement when a tidal current reverses direction.

As soon as our banca was tethered to the other boat that was dancing like Elvis, I knew it was going to be a rough dive and braced myself.

The 20 metres swim from the boat to the descent line was menacing. By the time I reached the orange buoy line, I was huffing and puffing.

As I descended the barnacle-laden manila rope, I was glad my middle ears popped without flaw. Looking down, I could see clearly through perfect visibility how huge the boat was. It was larger than my Pattaya favourite, the Hardeep wreck.

Letting go of the descent line, the Filipino divemaster did great by penetrating the shattered stern, which shielded us from the violent currents.

A bomb hit to the stern’s aviation fuel tanks caused a catastrophic explosion, leaving the ship nearly split into two sections.

Outside the wreck I witnessed wild batfishes fly away like scared butterflies, while juvenile barracudas seemed to smirk at my face.

At a max depth of 35 metres, I give it a 7/10 score on the danger level because of the rough surface conditions that day.

What did I learn diving in Coron? First, to daydream can be good for it allows the mind to wander and build plans; second, it pays to live dangerously for this makes us feel alive; third, that getting back to the boat safely beats the rush felt in each dive.

How about you, the reader, do you think the philosopher Nietzsche was right when he suggested we live dangerously?

In upcoming articles, I will share experiences about diving in Boracay, exploring caves in Sagada, hiking to Tappiyah Falls, and other thrilling travel adventures.

Philip Habacon (he/him) is a Filipino-Canadian author, an intermediate care paramedic, and a member of the College of Paramedics of Manitoba (CPMB). Before immigrating to Manitoba, he worked as a PADI-qualified Master Scuba Diver Trainer (MSDT) for six years instructing in Pattaya, Thailand. 

55 Things Learned at 55 is his first book, with a second, First Responders and PTSD, coming in summer 2026. For more information, visit https://www.philiphabacon.com