Basco

The Batanes islands were settled by Austronesian voyagers whose descendants, the Ivatan, built fortified hilltop settlements called idjang on defensible outcrops, fished the rough channels in open boats and farmed root crops on terraces. Their language and their seafaring link them closely to the peoples of Taiwan to the north, and the islands sat on trading routes long before Europeans reached them.

Spain claimed Batanes as part of the Philippines in 1783, under the governor-general José Basco y Vargas, after earlier contact and a visit by the English explorer and privateer William Dampier, who named the islands in 1687. The town established that June took the governor-general's name, and Dominican missionaries followed, building churches of lime and stone. Spanish rule brought resettlement from the hilltop idjang to coastal towns, a tobacco monopoly, and the lime-mortar techniques that Ivatan builders combined with their own methods to produce the thick-walled, thatched stone houses that still stand.

A Japanese task force from Taiwan landed on the Batan Islands on 8 December 1941, in one of the first landings of the Pacific war, and were among the quieter theatres thereafter. Isolation defined the decades that followed: electricity, regular air links and mobile signal came late, and migration to Luzon and abroad drew many young Ivatan away. Air service and, with it, tourism grew in recent decades, and the islands' position between Luzon and Taiwan has given them renewed strategic attention in recent years.

Ivatan culture is shaped by wind and water. Houses were built with metre-thick walls of stone and lime, small windows and thatch bound down hard, designed to survive typhoons that would flatten ordinary construction; many survive and are still lived in, and newer houses copy their proportions in concrete. Against sun and rain, women wear the vakul, a headgear of stripped and dried plant fibre covering head and shoulders — working dress rather than costume, though they appear at festivals too.

The Ivatan language is distinct from Ilocano and Tagalog and remains the everyday speech, with Filipino and English used in school and government. Catholic practice is strong, and the church calendar governs the year, with traditions of communal labour — neighbours helping build, harvest or move a house — still recognised. The province is known nationally for its low crime and for honesty stores, and Ivatan tend to find the attention slightly amusing.

Fishing has its own customs, particularly the flying-fish season, which runs from about March to May and opens with a festival called kapayvanuvanua, and the open boats that work the strait are built to local patterns. Conservation matters here too: the province is a declared protected area, rules on collecting coconut crab and other species tighten as stocks fall, and communities discuss how much tourism the islands should carry.

The municipality of Basco had about 9,600 residents at the 2024 census, out of roughly 19,000 in the whole province, and everyone functions at that scale: the town is the seat of provincial government, the airport, the market, the cathedral, the hospital and the college, and the rest of Batan Island revolves around it. Government work, teaching, fishing, small-scale farming — garlic, yams, sweet potato, cattle and goats — and tourism are the main livelihoods.

Supplies arrive by plane and cargo ship, so shelves reflect the weather, and fuel, building materials and fresh goods from Luzon cost more than on the mainland. Power, water and connectivity have improved but remain vulnerable to storms. When a typhoon is forecast, the island prepares in ways that are practised rather than dramatic: shutters closed, livestock moved, boats hauled up, and, afterwards, roofs repaired and fields replanted.

Days are unhurried. Children walk to school, offices keep regular hours, fishers go out when the sea allows, and evenings are quiet — there is little nightlife beyond a few small bars and the lodge dining rooms. Many families have members working in Manila or abroad, and the flights around Christmas and fiesta time are full of people coming home.

Ivatan cooking is unlike the rest of the Philippines: less sweet, less soy-heavy, and built on what the islands produce. Uvud balls, made from the minced corm at the base of the banana plant bound with meat or fish and either fried or dropped into broth, are the dish visitors are most often given. Luñis is pork belly cooked slowly in its own fat with rock salt and served crisp with turmeric rice, a method that predates refrigeration and still appears on tables today.

The sea provides the rest. Dorado, tuna and flying fish are caught in season, the last often split and dried in the wind; lobster and, more rarely, coconut crab appear on menus, the latter subject to tightening protection as numbers fall. Turmeric-yellow rice, known locally as supas, is cooked with pork or fish, and root crops — yams, taro and sweet potato — do much of the work that rice does elsewhere in the country. Garlic is among the crops the islands are known for.

Drink and sweets are simple. Palek, a wine fermented from sugarcane, is served at celebrations; coffee is widely drunk; and small bakeries supply the usual Philippine breads. Restaurants are few and family-run, lodges often cook for their guests, and menus depend on what the boats and planes have brought and on what the weather allowed the fishers to catch.