Flashes of yellow and pink light up the velvety sky. Huge sheets of pastel colours flash then flicker before disappearing. I wait for the crash, but it doesn't come – not yet anyway. Sitting on the balcony outside our cabin, tinges of cool air try to permeate the muggy atmosphere as the silent light show continues to entertain on a level I’ve not seen before.
The last time I was witness to a night sky light show was in 2015 when I was in the Arctic circle. Then, shades of white, green, and pink unearthly colour danced and wove across the sky; scenes that I will never forget, nor will tonight’s show compare.
We are located somewhere between Malaysia and Indonesia, in the Strait of Malacca. Tankers, container ships and even fishing boats share the space with our passenger cruise ship. We had left Singapore at exactly 5pm and already declared the balcony is the best place to sit and to watch our progress across the sea.
After turning our clocks back one hour, we drift off to sleep, the gentle rocking of the ship lulling us. It’s been a busy day and now we have the next three days to relax and to explore the ship.
A crash outside the window wakes me with a start. I’m disorientated. I feel movement and lights are flashing around me. Within seconds, I realise I am on the ship, and the storm outside has raised a notch or two. I step out on the balcony momentarily, but only for a few seconds. It’s now raining, and the storm is at its height. Stepping inside, I close the door then the curtains, enclosing us in a small cocoon to listen to the storm from the safety of our cabin.
Title Quote: Dokken, Lynch, Pilson, Brown
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