The scorching summer days of August drove the temperature of the seawater higher. A powerful tropical depression finally formed over the Atlantic and moved from east to west. At this time, Cuba and the Caribbean islands, lying around twenty degrees north latitude, were right in the main belt swept by tropical cyclones!
And so, the next month became a month of storms. Howling, rushing gales came with endless torrential rain and terrifying thunderstorms, plunging the sky over the entire Cuban coast into a long-lasting gloom. The abundant, persistent rainfall also sent river levels surging. Muddy floodwaters carrying reddish silt roared downward in torrents, drowning the lowlands along the rivers; even the crocodiles in the rivers fled onto the banks to take shelter.
"Mm. Rainfall on the island of Cuba is at least twice that of the Valley of Mexica. The width of the river channels expands sharply at the height of the rainy season, and low-lying wetlands turn into lakes. So, before large reservoirs are built, settlements and farmland should be established on high ground close to rivers. The impact of floods has to be considered... The newly built Iron Bay Town still needs to be moved two or three li toward the higher ground to the south..."
Wind and rain lashed unsteadily, striking the rain cape with crackling sounds. Priest Tomatl stood on the high ground outside Mayari Village, his eyes bright and intent. He observed the condition of the river east of the village and made slight adjustments to the upcoming city-building plan. Of course, he had also left two scouts in the iron mining area; more specific hydrological intelligence would have to wait until the scouts brought it back.
"Main God be my witness! In the season when storms arrive, fleets all have to make for shore.