If you ever find yourself in Boracay, and you don’t take a sunset sail on a paraw—did you even really go?
I didn’t know what to expect when I first saw the colorful sails dotting the horizon. I was just finishing my calamansi muffin and iced coffee at a beach cafe when I noticed them gliding silently across the water, like sea spirits chasing the sunset. It looked like a dream. And I knew then: that’s what I’m doing tonight.
Booking the Paraw
It’s easier than ordering food. As soon as the golden hour starts to flirt with the sky, the beachfront fills up with guys holding laminated price sheets. Don’t be shy—ask around. I paid PHP 700 for a shared paraw ride that would last around 30-40 minutes. They asked me to remove my shoes and hop in. That’s it. No paperwork. Just the sea.
There’s something old-school about a paraw. It’s a double outrigger sailboat, indigenous to the Visayas region. No engine. Just sails, wood, rope, and muscle. It skims the water with the grace of something that doesn’t care about time.
Setting Sail
As the crew pushed us away from White Beach, the entire world seemed to shift into slow motion. The sounds of children playing, music from the beach bars, and flip-flops slapping sand—all faded. What took over was the rhythm of the water lapping against the boat, the occasional flutter of the sail, and the shared silence of everyone onboard.
I sat on the edge with my feet hanging off the bamboo outrigger. Salt spray cooled my skin while the sky started doing its Boracay thing: blues melting into oranges, then purples, then fire. Cameras clicked. But for a few minutes, everyone stopped documenting and just watched.
The Magic of That Moment
Sunset hits differently when you’re on the water. You’re not just watching it. You’re inside it. The wind pulls the sail tight and you glide, no motor, no noise. Just you, the crew, and strangers who suddenly feel like kindred spirits.
One couple on our boat held hands the entire time. A solo traveler sat completely still, chin on her knee, smiling to herself. And me? I took deep breaths. It was the first time in weeks I wasn’t thinking about notifications or deadlines or anything except the moment.
The sun dipped low, and the paraw turned ever so gently, framing the last bit of golden sky like a postcard. The sea around us shimmered like glass. It was the closest thing to floating I’ve ever felt.
Sailing Back to Shore
As we returned, the island came back into focus: lights blinking on, laughter rising from beach bars, music picking up pace. It felt like re-entering the world after pressing pause. I tipped the crew (PHP 100 felt right) and stepped back onto the sand barefoot, heart full.
That night, I didn’t party. I didn’t need to. I grabbed a San Miguel from a beach kiosk, sat back down where I’d had that muffin, and watched the last of the paraws glide home under the starlight.
Quick Tips for Your Own Sunset Sail
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- Go during dry season (November to May) for the clearest skies
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- Bring cash; most rides are walk-up only and cost PHP 500–700
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- Wear shorts or swimwear; you’ll get splashed
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- Don’t bring anything that can’t get wet (or use a dry bag)
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- Put your phone away for at least five minutes. Trust me.
There are many things you can do in Boracay. But there are only a few that stay with you long after you’ve left. Sunset sailing on a paraw is one of them.
It’s not just a boat ride. It’s a 30-minute meditation. It’s a reminder that beauty can be simple, that silence can be golden, and that sometimes, the best memories aren’t made with Wi-Fi or itineraries—just wind, water, and wonder.
