We arrived at Marinduque at 9 a.m. on Arayat worn out by the voyage. We went off first and after fiddling about to get a chauffer, drove up to Boac to get photographic films for Doria. Chatted in the shop for half an hour until Quezon arrived–fire-crackers–constabulary–police–local officials of Marinduque. Secretary Quirino went on across the island to investigate some case. In the President’s stead he spoke at a town on the other side of Marinduque. Quezon went to the town plaza of Boac and addressed a large crowd. He seemed very happy to be among his own people in Tagalog for about forty minutes. He had not been there for twenty years. He used many homely witticisms, which took well with the crowd. Made polite reference to my having signed in 1920 the law which made a separate province of Marinduque, until then a part of Tayabas (Quezon’s own province)–very evident was his relief at getting away from the Moros whom he distrusts and dislikes.
Various inspections–visit to a home, where I asked questions about the local gold deposits (apparently “a dud”) and about their copra, coffee etc. Then to luncheon where I sat beside Quezon. The next move was to drive across the island, but the President said his stomach ulcer was giving him another hemorrhage, so I advised him to go back to the Arayat, which he agreed to do. We talked again about the Moros; he said he had instructed Colonel Stevens to act first and report later; that those Moros who wished to become civilized members of the Commonwealth would be welcomed, and the others would gradually disappear (like the American Indians). He added that there were 160,000 Moros in Cotobato who could be made useful citizens–they could be taught agriculture. He must have noticed that when we entered the town of Cotobato, some Moros standing by the sign: “We want a Civilian Governor” (local politics) had spat as we passed by in the motor!
The President was enthusiastic over Lt. Johnson, one of his submachine gun bodyguard on the Cotobato trip and said that he was going to promote him. Same as to the big American policeman from Malacañan who accompanied us on the journey and hung on the step of the motor car. (N.B. what a big grip those employees have who get into personal contact with N° 1.) He said Johnson was the only one of General Wood’s appointees as young Constabulary officers who had made good. Quezon had noticed him in the anti-bandit campaign last October.
So we left Boac and crossed the channel to the beach opposite Lucena, where Doria, Felicia, “Baby” Quezon, Miss Labrador, Nieto and I disembarked in a launch; from that to a banca, thence to a chair. A big crowd of provincial officials waited on the beach to meet Quezon who, however, did not land. We went off in our own motor at 5:30 and arrived at home at 8 p.m. having done 159 kilometers in two and a half hours through romantic scenery, over fine roads.
On this trip it was painfully evident that the Arayat was too small, the sea was very rough, (as usual) the boat was crowded; the servants from Malacañan were insolent and lazy; the whole thing lacked direction and management, and was about as badly done as is conceivable. This extraordinary inefficiency could easily be corrected by Quezon giving an a.d.c. authority over the servants–but he himself, prefers to be free from regulations of any kind.