(Orduptarboat, Coco Bandero Cays, San Blas, Panama)
I woke up to Greg pacing the boat in the sad but humorous way he does when there’s a lightning storm here. An occurrence that seems to be happening more and more lately.
He marches around deploying chains into the water, insisting we put on rubber footwear, and stashing all the electronics he can fit in the oven. The last bit is cruising knowledge – or myth – to save what you can should your boat get struck by lightning. Something about the surrounding metal box insulates your dear technology against damage. Regardless of its efficacy, when there’s lightning in the sky our stove looks like a sparsely stocked Apple Store.
The morning lightning show passed and the remaining day was spent in the regular fish-killing-paddle-boarding-sun-loving haze. That is until around five, when another round of nature’s best blew our way.
I’ve never been so aware of the sky. Back in the “real world” regular days of work and life could pass without me ever gazing skyward and analyzing the clouds. Now it’s common place. You’re forever in tune with what’s going on up there because, well, it’s sure as hell going to affect you down here.
So as the lightning began to build in the east we started to take note. The wind was still blowing from the west and the dark clouds started to surround us on three sides. This evening Mother Nature was showing one of her longer feature films. Not the quick flicks we’ve been used to. Sheesh, I even made popcorn to enjoy as we watched the lightning build around us and thankfully fade off in the distance.
Once the imminent danger had passed, and the lightning was father off in the distance, I ventured out on deck to capture what I could of the light strikes. If these storms weren’t riddle with so much worry, they’d be pretty darn beautiful to behold.