Ashe Writes | Rave Cruise 2015: A Dip In the Ocean Night Life

by - Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Sun, sand, sea - typical summer cliche, the premise that awaited me when I stepped on the bus to Subic for a weekend trip. For most girls in their 20s, a trip like this would be more than thrilling. In this summer heat though all I could think of was lounging in my air-conditioned room, reading a novel or two to escape the warm weather. Just thinking about the hot sand between my toes made me reluctant to hop onto that bus.

(I spent the night before in a panic, packing up whatever I could wear to the beach that I found that wasn't in the hamper or in the back of my closet.)

That morning I was already in the right mood when I ended up botching my make up and gave myself the panda eyes when I sneezed while applying liquid eyeliner.

(I was already thinking this was a bad sign. Should I even go? I should just go back to bed.)

Fast forward to a couple of washes and a few trials later, I found myself sitting at the back of the bus bound north to one of the most popular summer destinations in the country.

I've only been to Subic once in my life, when I was 7 years old and my family still retained the tradition of going out of town whenever a balik-bayan relative would arrive. Nowadays I don't see that balik-bayan relative anymore (probably doesn't want to take us to free trips anymore), but I still recall the waves and waves of tourists and vacationers cramming in what little space the semi-white-sanded beach could offer. I remember distinctly the taste of the ocean when I fell off my floater and nearly drowned when I mistook a plastic bag for a jellyfish because I'm paranoid like that. 

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We got to the yacht a little after lunch, with the sun at its apex and the smell of the ocean was strong. After getting over my initial fear of toppling overboard the yacht with the help of a few cocktails, I mingled a bit and watched as the group swung in the deck to the thud of the sound system. It was mesmerizing, almost trance-inducing, the way the young women rocked along to the buzz of the DJ in their brightly-colored bikinis. 

The crowd we were with was a lively folk. I had resolved to keep with my mood and be a casual observer in the party, but it proved impossible - the energy of the party reeled you in with a kind of youthful zing you could only get when you let the music (and the alcohol) do the talking.

As we neared The Lighthouse nearly everyone was gearing up for the real show. It was a haze of glow sticks, Jaegerbombs and Red Bull, paint, and frantic dancing. In partial darkness you can feel the pulsating rhythm of the beat and the lights, and you are helpless to its frenzied tempo. Even with your blood alcohol level shot up from all the Jaegerbombs, you cannot forget a night like that.
In the time it took for me to get off my seat and join the chaos on the dance floor, I had taken in the scent of the rave, of the booze - intoxicating.

It was the charm of the summer night life saying hello, and I was pleased to make its acquaintance. 

The night wore on and wound down though it was only a few minutes shy from the sunrise before we finally unplugged the music and, reluctant as we were, we spent the last dim hours we had left washing down the liquor and paint, and watching the sun take a peek through the horizon. The ocean mimicked my heart's pace - turbulent and serene at the same time.

Walking away from the beach and back to the bus took a while. As I bade the cool salty morning air and warm sand good-bye, I made a promise to return to the embrace of the sea breeze, back to the DJ's turntable that stirred my heart beat. Back to the cool water, to the pandemonium of the nightlife by the beach, to Jaeger, and to life.

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored post.


Article originally published in M Magazine Volume 2, Issue 6.

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