#CourageON: From the land, the sea, the sky — bringing you with us to the frontlines

Let me take you back to an overcast morning in June 2025 on Pag-asa Island, the largest civilian-occupied Philippine feature in the West Philippine Sea. 

The seas were just starting to get rough but the mission for some 20 journalists and military public information officers was clear: We had to get aboard the BRP Andres Bonifacio (PS-17) to kick off what would be a week-long maritime patrol in the West Philippine Sea. 

During our pre-departure briefing, the Naval Special Operations Command (Navsocom) special boat team warned us that the waves were rough (up to 2 meters, maybe) and oh, there was a chance we’d face harassment from the China Coast Guard — but that we’d be okay, as long as we listened to and trusted in them. 

(READ: View from Manila: Defending the West Philippine Sea, one outpost at a time)

What followed would be 20 to 30 minutes of holding onto a rubber boat for dear life, praying a Hail Mary or two, and wondering if I’d be listed in the post-mission report as “man overboard” or whether my swimming skills would suffice in the West Philippine Sea. 

Our skilled frogmen (palaka colloquially because of their amphibious nature) deftly navigated the stretch of open sea between Pag-asa Island and PS-17. We made it in one piece, visited Likas Island a few days later, and, as you would surmise, I’ve long been back on dry land. 

But it is in coverages like these where I pause and wonder: why in the world did I put myself in this situation? 

The answer is easy. 

It’s through immersive coverages like these that reporters like myself — whether we’re assigned to cover defense, national politics, or foreign affairs (all three of those, in my case) — are able to better understand the situation and in turn, help you, our valued readers, cut through the noise in our information environment. 

(READ: No alibis: Retooling and modernizing the Marines)

It’s one thing to read about the China Coast Guard’s harassment of Philippine Coast Guard vessels in the West Philippine Sea, but it’s another to make eye contact with their personnel as their much larger vessels sail too close by. 

(READ: Presence is deterrence: The Philippine Navy’s pivot)

My work means tracking down both open and closed-door discussions and decisions that shape how the Philippines protects what it owns and what it is entitled to. It means trying to figure out if there’s a method to the outside madness that we all see unfold, in real time, on social media. 

It’s these discussions and decisions that determine where the Philippines is heading and the country’s place in the world — made particularly crucial by the corruption crisis the Marcos administration is facing, Manila’s chairship of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, its bid for a United Nations Security Council seat, and an apparent aspiration to finish the Code of Conduct on the South China Sea. 

(READ: View from Manila: What challenges await the Philippines as ASEAN chair?) 

It’s a fun, albeit occasionally nerve-wracking job. It’s work that’s both a burden and privilege — to bear witness to the struggles and courage of our maritime frontliners, to keep tabs on how political and security plans are progressing (or how they’re not), and to track how Manila is managing how we present ourselves to the world. 

It’s an honor to bring you along with us to the frontlines through our reports. 

2026 is no doubt going to be just as dizzying as this year has been, which is why we would need your support more than ever. 

Support Rappler and help us continue reporting with clarity, context, and courage. – Rappler.com