In the afternoon of June 27, 1996, a section of the majestic Biliran Bridge, which connects the provinces of Biliran and Leyte, collapsed under the weight of two loaded trucks that were reportedly drag-racing across the bridge.

This man-made disaster instantly dislocated Biliran's economy and disoriented the pattern of the Leyte-Biliran traffic. The dislocation of the economy and its continuing threats of recurrence were soon neutralized, thanks to the vigilant efforts of Biliran provincial officials led by Governor Wayne M. Jaro. However, the fate of the disabled bridge remains in limbo, no thanks to the dilly-dallying and disinformation of Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) officials.

For several weeks, light vehicles were allowed to pass through a temporary Bailey bridge spanned over the collapsed section of Biliran Bridge. But the bridge was finally closed to traffic in September (1996).

A barge now ferries buses and vehicles at 30-minute intervals (6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.) through a five-minute cruise between two landings on opposite shores of Biliran Channel. And a vehicle's one-minute trip across the channel through the bridge now lasts about an hour.

So, what's charming about a disabled bridge and a five-minute cruise across a narrow channel? A lot, if you choose to ignore the temporary discomfort of an added hour to the usual three-hour bus ride from Tacloban to Naval (and vice-versa) before the collapse of the bridge.

Surely, the closure of Biliran Bridge to land traffic partly threw back the commuters to the past, say 25 years ago, when water transportation was the in-thing for Biliran's riding public traveling to mainland Leyte.

Since we cannot avoid the throwback until the completion of the new P36-million bridge replacement, let me charm you with the historicity of the narrow channel (barely 100 meters) under the bridge and the surrounding scenery.

The first recorded mention of the narrow channel below the Biliran Bridge was written almost 400 years ago by Father Pedro Chirino, a Jesuit missionary in Leyte, in his monumental work, Relacion de las Islas Filipinas (Rome: 1604). He wrote:

"Panamao [that is, Biliran] is one of the little islands adjacent to this island of Leyte, almost contiguous to it, being separated from it only by a narrow strait so narrow that a ship can barely pass through. It abounds in timber and is therefore suitable for the construction of ships … and in December of 1601 the ship was here being built on which I was later to sail from those islands [in July of 1602]."

In 1668, Jesuit Father Francisco Alcina mentioned a Pogot Point, near a river mouth of Yra-Ete (Leyte-Leyte?). I am not sure if Fr. Alcina was referring to the southern side of the cut that "beheaded" Biliran from Leyte. It could be.

Around July 1944, the Japanese in Leyte were in the thick of preparations for the return of the Americans. At that time, the 10th Company of the 3rd Battalion, 9th Infantry Regiment, Japanese Imperial Army, had its headquarters in Biliran town.

In compliance with orders (from the battalion headquarters in Ormoc) to stock up rice and food in preparation for the fighting against the Americans, the Japanese company in Biliran put up a checkpoint in the narrow channel separating Biliran from Leyte.

The details of this wartime episode are found in the published memoir of Kennosuke Nakajima, entitled Leyte Island: Wandering Between Life and Death (Japan: 1986). Nakajima was a young radio operator assigned in Biliran town. He also joined his company commander in Leyte-Leyte and during an anti-guerrilla patrol in northwestern Leyte.

The first chapter of the memoir was titled "Sunset in Biliran." Nakajima's account of Biliran Channel went as follows:

"… In line with the order from the battalion headquarters, the company commander had a checkpoint set up in the Biliran Channel. Soldiers from our company started to check up the big bancas that sailed through this channel, to search for cargoes of rice and to confiscate them.

"Since Leyte had a large rice-producing area in Carigara, many traders bought rice from the farmers or rice-brokers and transported these to Cebu. The Biliran Channel happened to be the most convenient route for these rice traders. This was the shortcut route for sailing to Cebu.

"… In front of Biliran town, a small peninsula jutted out to the sea. The width of the sea was only 500 meters here. So it was quite easy to check the bancas from Biliran town.

"Several officers and soldiers were assigned to manage the checkpoint. They checked up the bancas that sailed by. Most of the items loaded in the bancas were guinamos, abaca, buwad, and some other daily commodities. But there were also bancas that were loaded with rice. Their rice cargoes were confiscated, in exchange for cash payment of about one-fifth of their actual market price.

"The people in the bancas were really angered by the compulsory exchange of their rice. They asked for the prevailing market price in exchange for their goods, since the price set by the Japanese military was so cheap. But we had to follow the order, which also fixed the price for the confiscated rice. So the requests for a fair price were not granted …

"There were several bancas that tried to flee from the checkpoint. In some instances, the soldiers gave chase and shot at the fleeing bancas and caused injuries to some of their passengers.

"In a few days, all the storage rooms (in the school building once located in the present bus terminal of Biliran town) were filled with sacks of rice. But the bancas also did not sail through the Biliran Channel anymore. Instead, they sailed east of Biliran Island (a roundabout way to Cebu)."

The Japanese company pulled out of Biliran town for Leyte in early August 1944.

After the Leyte Landing in October 1944, Filipino guerrillas also put up a checkpoint in the narrow channel under the present bridge. Hidden behind rock boulders and trees, they ambushed from here a sailboat full of Japanese soldiers, probably the entire detachment assigned in Maripipi. All the Japanese soldiers in the sailboat were reportedly killed.

The foregoing accounts about a narrow geography were written centuries apart by different people from different races.

If you happen to cross the channel near the disabled Biliran Bridge one of these days, chances are that you will also wonder at the seeming mystery around the scenery.

Let the feeling be. You are not alone. During less hectic times, people across the centuries were also caught by the same wondrous but unexplainable feeling in the vicinity of the present Biliran Bridge. Some of them wrote down their observations for posterity.

(NOTE: By November 1997, repair work had just started and the disabled Biliran Bridge remained impassable to vehicle traffic. At that time, the writer sent the following letter to the editor of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, which was published on December 3, 1997.)

The collapse of the Biliran Bridge on June 27 last year continues to handicap travel between the provinces of Leyte and Biliran. Of some consolation to the riding public, the P48-million bridge repair project went full force two months ago.

However, after Biliran Gov. Wayne M. Jaro announced that the repair work would be completed by Jan. 8, 1998, I doubted outright that this will be met. The Department of Public Works and Highways in Region 8 always belied Jaro's public statements on the bridge issue over the past 17 months. Somehow the official who lobbied for the project was habitually contradicted by the implementing agency.

The mayor of Biliran town was quoted by the local media saying that the bridge will be opened to traffic by March 1998.

Since September last year, the barge that regularly ferried vehicles across the narrow channel below the disabled bridge was named "LCT Socor." But only the name echoed the Spanish word for "help." Everything else is a rip-off. The fees had been reduced upon the governor's representation, but the existing rates for the five-minute ferry ride here are still more than half of the actual rates for the four-hour ferry transport from Carmen, Cebu to the industrial town of Isabel, Leyte.

Every bus passenger bears the brunt of the ferrying cost by paying P15 more than the regular fare.

The barge ferry service and the underground economy (including a new cockpit) around the idled bridge are monopolized by political enemies and detractors of Governor Jaro.

In an earlier letter (Letters, 9/4/97), I warned that another marine disaster looms in the barge ferry service below the bridge. Overloading and frayed tempers of dismayed commuters are common occurrences. Consider this:

I went home to Naval (the capital of Biliran) for the voters' registration last June. After the bus I rode on arrived at the landing area on the Leyte side, we had to wait two hours for the barge to pull out and cross from the Biliran side. Its last vehicle cargo was a passenger bus which tail section stuck out over the ramp.

Our barge trip was also similarly overloaded. The last vehicle allowed on board was a cargo truck which tail section also stuck out over the ramp.

I just observed the whole episode. But a fellow bus passenger, a seaman among the very few survivors of the Doña Paz tragedy in 1987, was loudly grumbling his resentments over the sloppy ferry service. He clammed up after the bus got into the barge. Like me, he could not talk while inhaling the fumes of burnt diesel emitted from the barge's engines, which were both suffocating and hurting to the eyes.

I smelt of diesel the rest of the day and suffered from asthma in the evening.

(NOTE: The repaired Biliran Bridge was reopened to vehicle traffic around February 1998, a few months before the May 1998 elections.)

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