Windshifts

Dark, ominous thunderheads gathered over the distant mountains on the mainland of Panama at the periphery of our sunny island paradise.  I noticed their development as Ken and I prepared to anchor our sailboat 25 yards off the inviting beach on Kuanidup in the San Blas Islands. We had to be ever watchful of clouds that hovered at the edge of our existence. Sometimes they progressed out over the islands on the Caribbean side of the isthmus with violent storms.

All boaters know that weather conditions can change rapidly. One minute all is calm and peaceful, then--WHAM! --we are slammed down and shaken up with a reality check. At sea, it can come in the form of a sudden wind shift and foul weather. The winds of my balmy life were about to shift again. The previous year in Bonaire, an unforeseen storm descended on me when I was alone. I was forced into action when all I really wanted to do was close my eyes and pretend everything was OK. The situation was terrifying for me but I managed to get through it safely by focusing on one step at a time.

From our anchorage in the San Blas I watched the black clouds creep closer. If my life were a screenplay, the descending darkness would have been an effective foreshadowing technique. I didn’t see the omen. I just closed the hatches and portholes in preparation for the approaching rain that I could smell in the air