Stormy Weather

We are in the middle of a four-day storm. It is raining buckets, blowing a gale, and the seas are furious. Nothing dangerous, but it really makes me think about what it would be like to be a tiny island like this during a typhoon. The palm trees take the wind gracefully though, which is what they're intended to do—like models with their hair blown around by an industrial fan, they look even more seductive with their fronds all tousled. It's fine. Our arms needed a break from catching waves anyway. The storm has given the resort a nice community spirit. We hold up in the usually open-air restaurant, which is currently boarded up to keep the sheets of rain out of our fish curry. Games of pool and scrabble and watching DVDs keep our minds off the fact that we haven't put our swimsuits on two full days. Wave watching is also a common past time. If you dare to brave the mine-field of falling coconuts, you will be rewarded with views of epic waves and accompanied by a deafening roar. Even the usually calm bay in front of our place is a mess of white caps, so that even though the water is still warm and the coral still colorful, no one is daring to go for a snorkel.