In the eye of the raging storm

For several days now the country was battered by strong winds spawned by the typhoon “Gener” where it claimed more than twenty lives and still undetermined amount of losses to properties and agriculture. Floods were reported everywhere. But the most unusual phenomenon was the wind that blows unceasingly, howling now and then even when the typhoon is already gone out of the country’s area of responsibility. Weathermen called this unusual weather disturbance as storm surge. The weather has become unpredictable. Mother nature has gotten back to human’s abuse of nature and they call it climate change.

A storm is a disturbance of the atmosphere especially affecting its surface and strongly implying severe weather. It may be a strong wind, hail, thunderstorm, or heavy precipitation that brings some substance through the atmosphere. In some instances, storm will form into a typhoon which is a mature tropical cyclone usually developed in the northeastern part of the Pacific Ocean. The Philippines uses its own naming list for systems which approach the country and issues timely storm warning signals in affected areas. Storm signal no. 1 ranges from 30 to 60 kilometer per hour (kph) and has at least 36 hours time of occurrence; signal no. 2 from 60 to 100 kph of at least 24 hours; signal no. 3 from 100 to 185 kph of at least 18 hours; and signal no. 4 at 185 kph or over with at least 12 hours time of occurrence.

Have you ever been caught in the eye of the raging storm?

The morning was unusually silent. The weather was deceptively calm. There was no movement from the leaves of the trees as if the wind was sucked from earth.

Cidro Anonuevo, 62, whom we fondly called the Master for having spent the best years of his life at sea, gazed intently at the morning clouds above him and gently shook his head.

“We better call off our fishing, Ray. This day isn’t good to go out at sea.”

“But I have already brought our baon and bait.”

“We’ll just grill the fish and have some drinks.” The Master grinned that showed his almost toothless gum.

“I came here to fish not to drink.”

I have no idea whatsoever that there was an announcement over the radio and TV that there is an incoming typhoon. The night before, I was drinking with some officemates in the beerhouse. What I consciously remembered was that we have a scheduled fishing expedition with the Master the day after.

The Master reluctantly went to the kitchen to get the fishing gear and all. He took the container and poured gasoline at the tank of the engine. As we rolled the pumpboat down the river, I didn’t notice the quizzical look in the eyes of the neighbors. We rowed until we reached the river bank because it was low tide and if we started the engine the propeller might hit the rocks at the bottom. Then I saw some smaller boats tied with ropes on both ends. Some had extended the ropes to the other side of the river so that we have to hold the ropes and raise it in order to pass through.

In the wharf, big boats and ships lined up side by side with each other.

After gathering some pebbles for sinker, we headed for the sea. The sea was calm as if oil was spilled on it. I didn’t notice that no other boat was seen in Albay Gulf.

We reached the place and dropped anchor. As we started fishing, the winds slowly gathered strength and it was getting colder. I just ignored it as I was busy fishing by using hook, line and sinker. It was a lucky day and I hauled off assorted fish of different sizes. The Master was unusually silent throughout. As a veteran of the sea, he knew what lay in store for us but he kept it to himself probably so as not to scare off his companion.

A big wave started to roll over the boat bathing me with white foamy saltwater. Quickly I crouched and tied the sack containing the fish and our belongings to the brace of the hull. Then I took the can to start bailing out water.

It is now a battle between the raging sea and the sea master.

When the big waves roll by, the Master would slow down the engine and faced the waves head on but slowly swerve the boat to the right when the boat was riding high on the crest of the waves.

After three hours of fierce battle with the raging sea, we could see the silhouette of the buildings in Legazpi City from the distance. We’re off our mark but I heaved a deep sigh of relief. At least we reached land and survived. eye of the raging storm.