Not missing the blustery seven-hour lampitaw ride of my first journey there, I stepped out of the plane—moments after it made a historic first landing on the island—buoyed by a feeling akin to rekindling a tryst with a former lover. Calayan Island had that exact effect on me. It was likely because during my previous visit, the location had served as a backdrop to my memorable hilltop and beachside frolics with my then-girlfriend.

Onboard our chartered thirty-seater Dornier aircraft from Platinum Skies, I steadied my eyes toward the window as our plane circled Calayan Island. I quickly gazed at the azure-colored waters of Cibang Cove, recognizing it instantly from memories of my first visit there four years prior.

Huddled at the roof of our lampitaw with other passengers, I sensed my leg muscles cramping a little bit. We’re not yet at the first hour of our six-hour sea journey to Calayan Island and I’m already uneasy with my chosen seating position, numbing my butt over a protruding piece of wood. A few minutes later, we started encountering the unstable waters of the South China Sea. For a moment I dreaded my recollection of tales of waves as big as a two-story house from happening, but as I stared out to the sea, I noticed the steady condition stretched out as far as my eyes could see. Feigning the worst, I regaled at the sight of the Volkswagen-sized breakers battering our lampitaw. “These waves can’t possibly topple our durable boat,” I told myself with a swagger and a brief recitation of prayer.