It’s getting dark, and it’s only six-thirty in the evening. It’s dark not because we’re losing daylight, but because of the heavy cloud and torrential rain. Visibility is down to metres and I can see only the wooden deck, and the raging, angry sea crashing onto the beach. In front of each set of bi-folding doors, Jas stops and wrings out the towels we’ve placed on the floor in a vain effort to stem the flow of water leeching in through the tightly fitted joinery. It’s a losing battle. Sandbags might have stood a better chance.
All day we’ve checked and rechecked the forecasts from the Fiji and Tonga Met services, and from the US naval weather station. Not because we’re un-nerved by what is happening, but for the latest information. That way we’re prepared for almost anything. High swells along with an already high tide are forecast for 2am, winds categorised as destructive, and flooding in coastal areas. Thankfully the resort is well built, with block walls and roofs which I have no doubt have been engineered to withstand stress of this kind. Not sure the village next door will stand up so well though.
We have a decision to make. Do we take on the cyclone, fighting the gale force winds and rain, and try to get back to our fale for the night? Or do we stay here in the restaurant? Really, I think I want the comfort of my bed. But if we are to go we should do it soon, while there is enough daylight to guide us.
Tomorrow is another day!