Whale sharks are the largest fish on the planet – and one of the most exploited animals in ocean tourism. On a small Philippine island, something unusual just happened: the people in charge decided enough was enough.
Whale sharks are not dangerous. That is the first thing to understand. Despite the name, they are filter feeders – they swim slowly through the water with their mouths open, consuming tiny plankton and small fish. The largest individuals can reach 12 metres in length, roughly the size of a double-decker bus, but an encounter with one is less like facing a predator and more like floating alongside a gentle, slow-moving giant.
Which is precisely why they became so attractive to the tourism industry. And precisely why that attraction became a problem.
Across Southeast Asia, coastal communities discovered that whale sharks could be made reliably available to paying tourists if you fed them. Throw enough small fish into the water and the sharks stay close, giving swimmers a predictable, photographable experience. Operators make money. Tourists get their moment. The sharks – wild animals that should be migrating freely across open ocean – become dependent on handouts, their natural behaviour disrupted, their health compromised by an artificial diet in a fixed location.
In the Philippines, the practice became particularly concentrated on the island of Bohol – a roughly 4,770-square-kilometre island with a population of around 1.4 million, sitting in the central Visayas island group about an hour’s flight south of Manila. By early 2025, reports of illegal feeding operations in the coastal towns of Lila, Alburquerque, and Dauis had become difficult to ignore. In February of that year, Bohol’s governor took a step that few regional administrators have been willing to take: he shut the whole thing down.
All whale shark interaction activities in the province were suspended while the government consulted marine scientists, conservation groups, and local communities on what a responsible alternative might look like.
Sixteen months later, the encounters are back – but on entirely different terms.
Whale sharks are the world’s largest fish – and among the most exploited animals in ocean tourism. Bohol’s new rules change the terms of engagement.
What changed, and what it means if you want to go
In May 2026, Governor Erico Aristotle Aumentado signed into law the implementing rules for the Enhanced Sustainable Marine Wildlife Interaction Ordinance. It is a detailed piece of legislation, and the details matter.
Feeding is banned outright. The waters are divided into zones – areas where observation is permitted, waiting areas for boats, and strictly no-contact zones. The number of swimmers and boats at any encounter is capped. Flash photography and underwater drones are prohibited. Time limits apply to how long any group can spend near a whale shark. Every operator must hold a government certificate of compliance, Department of Tourism accreditation, and registered vessels. Trained marine wildlife guides are mandatory. Bookings must be made in advance online – you cannot simply show up at the pier anymore.
The environmental group Balyena.org, which spent years documenting illegal feeding practices in Bohol before the suspension, was involved in drafting the new rules. Their assessment: science-based and genuinely collaborative. That is not the kind of language conservation organisations use lightly.
For anyone planning a trip, the practical implication is straightforward. Before booking any whale shark experience, ask the operator directly whether they hold a certificate of compliance under Provincial Ordinance No. 2026-004. If they cannot confirm it, do not proceed. The accreditation exists specifically to separate operators committed to the new framework from those still running the old approach.
One more thing worth understanding: under these rules, the sharks may not be there on the day you go. Without feeding to keep them in place, they move freely. That unpredictability is not a flaw in the system – it is the point. The animals are behaving like wild animals. Some days you will see them. Some days you will not. That is what an honest wildlife encounter looks like.
An island that has more going for it than most visitors realise
Bohol is not primarily a whale shark destination. It is an island with an unusual depth of natural and cultural credentials that most tourists, following the standard package tour circuit, never fully encounter.
Beneath the waters off Bohol’s northern coast lies the Danajon Bank – the only double barrier reef in the whole of Southeast Asia, and one of just six such formations anywhere on Earth. A barrier reef is a coral system that runs roughly parallel to a coastline, separated from it by a lagoon. A double barrier reef has two of these systems, one behind the other. The Danajon Bank spans 272 square kilometres and has been building its coral structure for around 6,000 years. It is a significant marine environment by any measure – a breeding ground for fish, marine mammals, sea turtles, and hundreds of species of coral and seagrass.
In 2023, Bohol became the first place in the Philippines to receive UNESCO Global Geopark status – a designation awarded to territories with exceptional geological heritage and a demonstrated commitment to conservation, education, and sustainable development. The island’s geological history stretches back 150 million years, and its landscapes include more than 1,200 cone-shaped limestone hills, ancient cave systems, and marine terraces lifted above sea level by prehistoric tectonic activity. UNESCO does not hand this designation out as a tourism prize. It comes with obligations and regular review. Bohol has earned it.
For snorkellers and scuba divers, Balicasag Island – a small protected marine sanctuary a short boat ride off Bohol’s southwestern coast – offers some of the clearest water in the region, with visibility regularly exceeding 20 metres and coral cover that reflects decades of protection. Pamilacan Island, further east, is the base for community-run dolphin and whale-watching trips that operate on the same non-intrusive principles now applied to whale sharks: observation from a distance, no chasing, no feeding.
Balicasag Island’s protected marine sanctuary has some of the clearest water in the Philippines – and coral that has been left largely undisturbed for decades. Photo credit: diveplanit
The hunters who became the guides
Bohol’s relationship with marine wildlife has not always been protective. On Pamilacan Island, a small fishing community south of the mainland, men hunted whales, whale sharks, and dolphins using traditional harpoon methods for most of the twentieth century. The practice is thought to date back to 1939, part of a wider whaling tradition that existed in pockets across the Bohol Sea.
It ended abruptly in 1997, when a national ban on whale and whale shark hunting made the practice illegal overnight. For a community with no other significant source of income, the ban left a real problem: how does an island built around hunting survive without it?
The answer came through a partnership between the community, the Philippine Department of Tourism, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, and WWF Philippines. Pamilacan became the first pilot site for the Philippine National Ecotourism Strategy, and the same men who had spent their lives hunting whales were retrained as guides for watching them instead.
It worked, in a way few conservation transitions do. The hunters’ tracking skill did not disappear when the harpoons did. Guides on Pamilacan now locate dolphins and whales with a consistency that has puzzled visiting researchers, finding pods without sonar or spotting aircraft, using the same instinct once used to hunt them. Sighting rates on organised tours are unusually high for the region.
Walk through the island’s small village and the hunting history is still visible – whale bones mounted on the walls of homes, kept not as trophies but as part of the island’s memory of what it used to be and what it chose to become instead.
It is not a manicured conservation story. It is messier and more honest than that: a community that gave up a livelihood because it had to, and built something else in its place. Twenty-five years on, it stands as a reminder that Bohol’s current whale shark protections are not a sudden change of heart. They are the latest chapter in something that started decades ago.
The rest of the island: where to go and what to expect
The Chocolate Hills are real, and they are worth seeing. More than 1,200 perfectly cone-shaped limestone formations rise from Bohol’s flat central plains – an almost surreal sight, particularly in the dry season when the grass covering them turns brown. The viewpoint at Carmen gets busy from mid-morning; arriving before 8am means you have it largely to yourself.
The Loboc River winds through the island’s interior and most tour packages include a floating restaurant cruise along it. A better option is hiring a private boat from Loay or Loboc and travelling at your own pace, further upstream than the lunch cruises go. The Bilar Man-Made Forest – a two-kilometre corridor of mahogany trees planted in the 1960s as a reforestation project – is a few minutes from the river and worth a brief stop.
If the beach resort area around Panglao feels busier than you’d like, the town of Anda on Bohol’s eastern coast offers quieter beaches, small locally-owned accommodation, and almost no coach tours – around two and a half hours by road from Tagbilaran.
Bohol is more compact than many comparable Philippine destinations. Unlike Palawan, which rewards longer stays and more complex logistics, Bohol’s main attractions can be covered in two to three days. The island is accessible by direct flight from Manila and Cebu, or by fast ferry from Cebu City – roughly two hours across the strait.
The Chocolate Hills are one of the Philippines’ most distinctive natural sights – limestone formations that have been building for millions of years.
Where to stay
Most visitors base themselves on Panglao Island, connected to Bohol by bridge and about ten minutes from the airport. Alona Beach is the main hub for restaurants, scuba operators, and boat trips to Balicasag. For eco-conscious travellers, Amarela Resort on Panglao is built from reclaimed timber, furnished with locally made antiques, and holds an ASEAN Green Hotel Award. Bohol Bee Farm, on a clifftop above the water, grows its own produce on an organic farm and serves it in a farm-to-table restaurant. It holds Department of Tourism eco-accreditation.
For those prioritising the Chocolate Hills, the Loboc River area puts you closer and in quieter countryside. Anda’s accommodation is almost entirely small, family-run, and right on the beach.
November to May brings calm seas and the clearest water for snorkelling. June to October is the wet season – manageable, but rough days can make Balicasag boat trips difficult. Whale sharks move through Bohol’s waters year-round, with the most reliable sightings from December to May.
What is taking shape in Bohol – the conservation framework, the geopark management, the community-run marine experiences – represents a more considered approach to tourism than most destinations in the region have managed. It is worth visiting now, while the commitment is fresh and the crowds have not yet caught up.
This guide follows on from the whale shark ordinance first reported in Unmasked Weekly Issue 13.
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