By Mozart Pastrano

But it was a sunny day. There were no dark clouds early that morning. The sea was not acting up at all. The night before, Felicisimo Ocbeña recalled, he had even brought out his motorboat and scoured through his usual fishing grounds. He caught plenty of red snappers. Today promised to be another good day despite all the talk about a coming typhoon. They said on radio and TV that it would be a strong typhoon, but Ocbeña could sniff no hint of danger in the air. Maybe the typhoon had come and gone without their knowing it. Maybe it had changed its course. Maybe it had slowed down. Maybe it was just like the other typhoons they were warned about before, Undang, Frank, nothing to worry about,