Some years ago I kayaked to a small island off the coast, pulled my kayak high up on shore and pitched my tent.  The weather report was for a storm later in the day so I had the fly on the tent and the guy lines taut.  When it hit hard—- I was comfortable and happy to watch it— out the end of my tent, dry and warm in my blue sleeping bag.  It seemed to me that the whole world at that time was water, water everywhere as my campsite was just one foot above high tide line on the sandy beach.