Talaba trails: Taste the unique flavor of oysters in Aklan

AKLAN, Philippines – New Washington town, a coastal municipality situated in the first district of Aklan, has gained popularity as a bustling hub for supplying oysters to numerous hotels in Metro Manila and provinces across the country.

While Aklan may not be hailed as the Seafood Capital of the Philippines, the oyster industry in this town is nothing short of remarkable. Even Roxas City, famed for its seafood, relies on Aklan for its oyster supply because of their briny and sweet flavor.

Bert Macahilig, 24, a Talaba farmer, told Rappler what sets Aklan’s oyster apart is its export-quality oyster. 

“Ro taeaba riya sa New Washington hay kilaea gid dahil mabahoe, matam-is, ag malimpyo. Kung man-o kabahoe ro shell, makaron man ro sueod nga meat. Ag mahaba ro life span, tatlo hasta ap-at nga adlaw, kapin kung properly stored. Pag-abot sa Manila, eab-as gihapon,” he said.

(Oysters from New Washington are renowned for their size, sweetness, and cleanliness. Their meat is almost as big as their shell. With proper storage, their freshness can be maintained for three to four days, ensuring that when they arrive in Manila, they are still as fresh as when they were harvested.)

Asked about the difference in other provinces, Macahilig said it’s because of their brackish clean water.

He said,  “Uwa-uwa gid ro taeaba it Roxas, bisan sanda ro Seafood Capital. Iya sanda gabuoe sa New Washington gihapon, dahil ro among tubi riya, malimpyo. Bukon it polluted.”

(Oysters in Roxas have no match in Aklan, even though they are the Seafood Capital. They still source their oysters here in New Washington because our water is not polluted.)

Start-up

As a neophyte trader, Macahilig said he was merely observing the challenges of buying and selling fresh oysters until he finally took the leap of growing and harvesting them himself.

“Second year ako as an entrepreneurship student kato. Kita ko gid ro kalisod ni mama, ag si papa ron hay construction. Indi gid mag-igo para kamon. Nakabaton ako it P4,000 nga scholarship halin sa province, kag ang ginpuhunan ko sa negosyo,” he said. 

(As a second-year entrepreneurship student at the time, I observed the hardships of my mother and witnessed my father’s challenges in construction work. It couldn’t make ends meet. So when I received a P4,000 scholarship from the province, I made the decision to invest the entire amount as capital into my business venture.)

At that time, he said he was happy to put it all into an oyster farm as an investment.

With his own startup trade business, Macahilig helped meet the needs of his family. His income mostly comes from the sale of his harvests.

As a start-up business owner, Macahilig had to learn the ropes of his oyster farm first.

He said, “Pagkahalin ko sa eskwelahan, mauuli ako sa bahay ng alas-6. Agad akong pupunta sa suba, doon hahanap ako ng bangka. Kahit malayo mula sa bahay, sinusugod ko pa rin. Minsan, hanggang alas-9 ng gabi pa ako nag-aani. Kinabukasan, idedeliver ko agad. Nakakapagod, pero sulit.”

(When I get home from school, I’ll be back by 6 pm. I’ll immediately head to the river to look for a boat. Even if it’s far from home, I still go. Sometimes, I harvest until 9 om. The next morning, I’ll deliver them immediately. It’s tiring, but worth it.)

Like any other commerce, oyster traders like Macahilig are also not immune to setbacks. In his case, it comes in the marketing of their naturally occurring seafood.

He said, “Mahirap dahil ang kontrol sa presyo ay nasa mga mamimili mula sa Maynila. Lalo na ang mga middlemen, sobrang tawad at abuso dahil ang ibang magsasaka ay walang sapat na edukasyon. Binibili nila ang mga talaba sa mababang presyo at ipinagbibili sa mga hotel nila ng P50 hanggang P60 bawat piraso. Ang iniisip ng mga magsasaka ay ang pambili ng pagkain at pamasahe ng kanilang mga anak papunta sa eskwelahan.”

(It’s difficult because the control of the price lies with the buyers from Manila. Especially the middlemen, they haggle severely and take advantage because some farmers are uneducated. They buy oysters at low prices and sell them to their hotels for P50 to P60 each. What the farmers think about is buying food and paying for their children’s transportation to school.)

Growing and harvesting oysters have become a way of life for many farmers in New Washington. The farmers plant their oysters for two months in their nursery and transplant them to their growing farm. They will then harvest and sell them after seven months.

“Mahaba ang proseso, pero sulit naman. Nakabili ako ng sarili naming bangka. Nabayaran ko na ang buwis sa aming bahay. Nakakuha pa kami ng dagdag na sakahan sa ilog. At ngayon, nagdagdag ako ng bangus sa negosyo,” he said.

(The process is long, but it’s worth it. I bought our own boat. We’ve paid for the taxes on our house. We acquired additional farmland by the river. And now, I’ve added milkfish to the business.)

Right now, Macahilig is supplying oysters in the local markets. He is also transporting Aklan’s oysters weekly to five restaurants and hotels in Metro Manila with a profit of P20 per kilogram. He also led farmers in their town to export 2,000 kilograms of oysters to Taiwan recently.

Life and livelihood

Macahilig’s 55-year-old father Roberto has been an oyster farmer for more than half of his life. He said that their harvest is better in rainy seasons.

“Mas maeamig, mas mabahoe, manami, ag quality ro taeaba riya. Kung mainit abi hay gataas ro salinity it tubi, kaisot rayon ro taeaba ag mabuhay mag-abo,” said Roberto, a father of five. 

(In colder seasons, oysters tend to be larger and possess better quality taste. In hotter weather, the salinity of the water increases, leading to stunted growth and slower reproduction of oysters.)

Roberto shared with Rappler that thefts also occur in the rivers. 

He said, “Natatakawan man kami riya. Pagkatapos namon itanom it 7 buean, kung inug harvest eon, uwa eot-ah it sueod ro among mga kariton. Ubos gid ah nanda it buoe, lugi kami nga mayad.”

(We also experience theft of our oysters. After planting them for seven months, when it’s time to harvest, there’s nothing left to gather. The thieves even took our tires. It was a significant loss for us.)

Through oyster farming, Roberto and his wife managed to see three of their children earn their degrees.

“Hara eon amo nga pangabuhian halin sa umpisa. Suwerte kami kay malimpyo ro among suba kag bantog ro among taeaba sa ibang lugar. Responsable man ro mga tawo riya kaya wala gid nasasamad ro kalidad it among taeaba. Kag masuwerte ako kay bisan may mga propesyonal na sanda, nagabalik gihapon sila sa lugar nga halin kami. Palangga nila ro mga taeaba namon, pareho man sa mga kabataan it ibang mga mag-uuma it taeaba sa amon lugar,” he said.

(This has been our livelihood from the beginning. We consider ourselves fortunate because our river remains clean, and our oysters are well-known in other areas. The people in our community are also responsible, which ensures the quality of our oysters. And I feel blessed because even though they are professionals now, they still come back to our hometown. They love our oysters, just like the children of other oyster farmers in our area.) – Rappler.com

Jed Nykolle Harme is an associate editor at Eamigas Publication, and is an Aries Rufo Journalism fellow for 2023-2024.