Amihan is Here

Smiles are wider than usual. There’s a spring to every step, a certain lightness in the air. Sailors all over the Philippines are giddy with excitement because it's official. The stars have aligned. Windguru and PAG-ASA have confirmed it. And you can feel it in the air, even smell it. The northeast winds are upon us. Amihan is here.

As usual, my windsurfer/kiteboarder friend Bo is on the dot. He comes to the Philippines from the US every year on the 3rd week of October to sail. As Peter Capotosto, Taal Lake Yacht Club Commodore said, "The Tres Marias, Orion's belt, The Three Kings, whatever you want to call them, when you see them in the sky, you know the rains are leaving. There may still be a DEVASTATING typhoon or two, but the season is DEFINITELY changing. The cool winter winds are coming, and so is the best part of the sailing season."

I'm excited because although I can ride Paraluman year round, windsurfing is still my favorite kind of sailing. Just because it's the fastest.

Windsurfers, kiteboarders, hobie aficionados, all kinds of sailors have silly grins on their faces, flexing muscles that have been dormant and sporting faces pale from staying indoors while the habagat winds blew. Board shorts and rash guards will be tighter as a few kilos would have been gained from inactivity. Everyone starts out fumbling with their moves- relearning how to gybe without stalling, fine tuning equipment- but will be back to racing form after a few sessions. In a month or two, everyone will be tan and muscular again.

Equipment is being brought out of storage and inspected for repairs, assembled and rigged, checking for cockroaches and whatever critters would have taken residence while the owners were hibernating. We once found a bird's nest snuggled within the folds of our hobie catamaran main sail.

Weekends will be spent sailing once again instead of on extended siestas, pigging out, getting drunk and fat. Time to set aside the mountain bikes, wakeboards, and other feeble attempts at offseason sports. No more reason to be grumpy. Monthly races and regatttas will resume, old rivalries reborn with last season's winners ready to defend their titles and the rest out to do better.

Sailors are ecstatic and welcoming amihan with wide open arms. I'm tired of making do with habagat's unpredictability, constantly wrestling with my sail or kite, always either under- or overpowered by shifty winds and unexpected gusts. Add rain, lots of it, and being constantly pummeled by squalls to the misery.

Oh sweet amihan! I missed you.  You bring so much happiness. As I sit here typing I can feel your cool sweet breeze on my face, hear the gentle rustling of palm trees, and see tiny ripples on the calm blue waters of Maricaban Strait. But I am not fooled. I know that sometime this season you will wield your full power- howling mighty winds over breaking waves- that will whip us around like puppets, throw us down to our knees and bring out the wimp within us. I'm looking forward to it.

Amihan is here. This must be how people in countries with four seasons feel when spring has sprung. It's a festive mood with everyone is saying it over and over again, to confirm something we already know. Mouthing words to oneself or to each other, all nodding in agreement with a silly grin on the faces. Or a feeling of disbelief with a quick check again at Windguru for the nth time just to be sure.

I still can't get over it so I'll say it again. Amihan is here. WOOHOOOOOO!