Ancient boatfaring graphic designers

Lots of people travel in the Philippines for the colors beneath the waves – colorful corals, neon fish, and other marine life. But as an artist, I realized some of the most striking works of art are above sea level too, or even parked right on the sand: the colorful bangkas of local fishers.

Local fishers require local painters, whose canvases feed people. Unlike artists like me who have serviced companies, clients, and NGOs with digital art used to either sell or fundraise or to influence… these painters have helped fishers and boat owners communicate which boat belongs to whom, while making each one as unique as possible. I guess you can say each boat has a brand, with a color palette chosen by the client, consulted with by the artist. In this case one of those artists would be Rodel.

I didn’t have a deep sit-down session with Rodel to learn more, though I wish I did. I was in Bolinao for my wife’s birthday, enjoying the coastline of Pangasinan – a province named after asin (salt), which has been tapped from these waters since ancient times. Even the Filipino Sign Language for the province is the sign for salt. While floating in that history, I found myself watching Rodel work.

I figured these boats go just as far back in time. These outrigger boats, the English name for the “rigs” that stick out of the sides to help keep them afloat, are actually called bangka. We all know the bangka itself is ancient, especially since the people who never called themselves Filipino before the 16th and 17th centuries were maritime traders, nomads, and wayfarers. I wondered, how far back did painting on boats go?

These were one of many thoughts I had as I took photos of Rodel painting possibly his 2nd boat one morning. Actually, he was bouncing between boats as the sun rose and warmed the surface of his colorful canvases. He took his brush and lay a solid, straight line of fresh red paint across a large green boat. The line was so perfect it looked mechanical, like something from an automated assembly line, yet it was all done by hand with a simple brush.

He shared that you should only paint on the boat when the sun shines on it, hastening the drying process. Or I think that’s what he said. My Tagalog comprehension is still subpar. But I hate having to ask people to repeat what they say just because I can’t understand. I knew I wouldn’t be staying too long, but I wanted to stay long enough to hear what he was willing to share as a fellow artist. I enjoy hearing tips and tricks from other designers.

Rodel can paint about 5 boats a day, depending on the design and what he is tasked to do. If all his boats of the day require painting on both sides, he can do up to 3. But if it’s just 1 side or for touch ups, he can do up to 5. 

I’ve never been on a cruise ship, though I’m curious. But I’ve ridden many bangkas. The smell of Rugby adhesive, Boysen paint, diesel engine, and the sea have become an aroma of nostalgia for me. Now I can appreciate how colorful bangkas are painted. I’ve written a bit about jeepney art – that’s a bit more easy to see and appreciate for us city dwellers. These designs by the sea as opposed to on the street are hand-painted specifically to resist the elements such as wind and salt water.

To end, here is a plate of kinilaw. Between the fishers, their “graphic designers” on the beach, and sinugba on the shore, color is cooked into every step of the sea’s bounty brought to us.