The first night of beach patrols was a keen little beaver. Eagerly looking for turtles and tracks in the darkness, admiring the stars and watching the beautiful displays of lighting arc and dance on the horizon. As we made our way up the beach and rounded the point it became apparent that an unseen storm was almost on top of us. Apparently having been hiding and waiting to ambush us it started releasing it’s fury all around us.

With the small amount of Spanish I had at the time I understood that our guide was petrified for our safety as he believed the lighting was striking near us because it was attracted to the water in the coconuts (we were next to a plantation). With an expression of pure dubium I pointed out that the much larger expanse of water to our left, the ocean, may actually be the cause if lighting was indeed attracted to water. We turned for home.

Sure enough, proving my point in a brilliant and adamant fashion, lighting started striking behind the breakers not 100 metres from us. It’s truly an amazing sight to see up close, the flash leaves little firework flares to the sides of the strike. We quickened our pace. It did us little good. Seconds later the air started to hum, hairs stood on end and there was an amazing crackling energy above us that you could feel pulsating uncomfortably, but not painfully, through you. An almighty boom that you could feel and a flash of daylight signaled the lighting strike not more than 20 metres from us! I’m not sure if the discharged or our sense of danger threw everyone to the ground.

We collected our selves and hurried even more to the safety of our camp. The storm passed after that. It was a truly awesome experience (having survived) but one that I don’t need repeated.