It started out like any other island-hopping day.
We were in southern Thailand — a small group of travelers crammed into a longtail boat with a cheerful, barefoot captain and a loosely secured tarp roof. The plan was simple: hop between three limestone islands, snorkel, eat lunch, and be back before dark.
I was wearing quick-dry shorts, reef shoes, and a hat that would eventually fly off and disappear forever. My phone was in a waterproof pouch. And, almost without thinking, I had left my Apple Watch on my wrist. I’d been wearing it the whole trip — mostly to check the time, log my steps, and, occasionally, glance at the weather forecast I rarely trusted.
The first island was stunning. Turquoise water, bright fish, too many people. The second was quieter. I snorkeled a little, waded around in the shallows, took some mental photos I’d forget by next week. It was around the third island that the sky changed.
And I mean changed.
The kind of rain that laughs at your raincoat
At first, it looked like one of those passing tropical clouds. Then, the wind picked up. The waves turned gray. And within minutes, the rain came down in vertical sheets — soaking, punishing, relentless.
The boat didn’t stop. We were in the middle of open water. The captain casually pulled a small plastic sheet over his head and kept going.
Within seconds, everyone was drenched. Backpacks soaked through. Towels pointless. Phones double-bagged and held close. And me? I was sitting in the back of the boat, gripping the wood railing, soaked to the bone, and watching my Apple Watch still glowing under the rain, like none of this was out of the ordinary.
I don’t know why, but I kept glancing at it. Maybe because I was nervous. Maybe because I needed something still working to focus on.
It didn’t stop working. I wasn’t sure it would.
To be honest, I wasn’t totally sure if the Apple Watch was meant to handle this much water.
I mean, rain, sure — but this? Salt spray, near-submersion, the kind of rain that feels like someone turned a showerhead on full blast.
Later that evening, back on dry land, I looked it up just to be safe.
👉 This article explained Apple Watch waterproofing pretty clearly.
Turns out, it’s more resilient than I thought — but even then, not invincible.
I dried it off. It was still ticking. Still logging heart rate, still counting steps. I guess it had been recording my slightly elevated pulse through the whole storm.
What the rain washed away — and what stayed
That afternoon changed the tone of the trip for me.
Everyone on the boat was quiet afterward. Not shaken — just subdued. We’d all been humbled a little by nature. And it wasn’t even a dangerous storm. Just… overwhelming.
Back at the guesthouse, I laid everything out to dry. My towel was soaked. My shoes squelched. A book in my backpack had turned to pulp. But oddly enough, I remember staring at my wrist, seeing the watch still quietly doing its thing, and feeling a strange sense of gratitude.
Not because it’s a piece of tech. But because in the middle of something chaotic, it had been there — not solving problems, not saving me, but staying with me. It felt steady when nothing else was.
The gear you forget is often the gear that matters
I never meant to test anything that day. I wasn’t doing anything extreme — just a normal, slightly touristy boat tour. But weather doesn’t care about your itinerary.
And in moments like that, you realize: the most useful things you bring aren’t necessarily the ones you researched to death. Sometimes, it’s the things you barely think about — the strap you wear every day, the thing you forget to take off — that quietly prove their worth.
For me, it was a watch that didn’t flinch during a downpour.
For someone else, maybe it’s a dry bag, or a cheap poncho, or a $3 pair of flip-flops that holds up better than expected.
What I take with me now
I don’t have a packing list to share. But if I’ve learned anything from this — and from other sweaty, soggy, unplanned moments on the road — it’s this:
Bring what works for you. Not what looks good. Not what TikTok says.
The tools that quietly disappear into your day? Those are the ones that’ll be there when it counts.
And maybe, just maybe — check the weather before you get on a boat.
