During the past few weeks this equatorial and tropical belt of the Pacific has been "hit" by several vicious powerful storms.  A seriously orchestrated well-armed with a variety of handheld weaving automatic weapons, a cache of ammunition to reload, some breaks for a bit of a stretch of the legs and nature calls, and an armada of blue-grey sedans unleashing streaking rainshowers and bazooka loads of wind for 36-48 hours, lights and wifi out, grey grey grey and whitecaps, a mean rolling relentless drive by,  with roofs heaving and breadfruit bombs exploding on metal roofs... a grey geo-sphere;  all... i mean... all land is underwater... millimeters or miles of water. Cramped damp and crouching against this volley... is what a hit feels like...on an atoll.  No where to go and no means to go...or come.

This last weekend- Majuro atoll ( Marshalls) was hit.  Not by a cyclone or typhoon nor a banana storm but by a breadfruit buster.  Breadfruits bounced n flew 15meters across my roof and landed at record distances.  The atoll, land and people and lagoon and ships and planes in hangars, crouched, like a damp mouse...as the ocean and atmosphere "hit".  This is how it felt :