Two systems were churning toward the Philippines, each on its own collision course
On the morning of October 11, 2022, the Philippine archipelago found itself in the path of not one but two converging weather systems — a reminder that for this island nation, the typhoon season is less an event than a condition of existence. The first, Tropical Depression Maymay, had already crossed into the Philippine Area of Responsibility, bearing down on Northern Luzon with rain and the threat of floods. A second system, still far to the east, was gathering itself quietly over the Pacific, tracing a path that would bring it to Philippine waters within days.
- Maymay, the country's thirteenth cyclone of 2022, crossed into Philippine territory just after midnight — arriving before dawn could offer any reassurance to communities in Cagayan, Batanes, and Apayao.
- Flooding and landslides loom over Northern Luzon as moderate to heavy rainfall spreads across a wide arc of vulnerable provinces, from the northern coast down through the Cordillera highlands.
- A second tropical depression, 1,620 kilometers to the east, is already moving west-southwest at 40 km/h and is expected to enter Philippine waters by Thursday, potentially intensifying into a tropical storm within 72 hours.
- The back-to-back timing of these systems compresses the window for preparation, leaving northern communities little breathing room between one storm's passage and the next one's arrival.
- PAGASA is tracking both systems with heightened vigilance, forecasting up to four cyclones in October alone as the archipelago enters the most active stretch of its typhoon calendar.
Just after midnight on October 11, 2022, a low pressure area that meteorologists had been watching quietly crossed a fateful threshold — swelling into a tropical depression and entering the Philippine Area of Responsibility. It was given the name Maymay, the country's thirteenth tropical cyclone of the year and the first of October.
Positioned 390 kilometers east of Casiguran, Aurora, Maymay was moving west toward the extreme northern tip of Luzon. PAGASA warned of moderate to heavy rainfall across Cagayan, Batanes, Apayao, and Ilocos Norte, with lighter rains reaching Isabela, Kalinga, Abra, and Mountain Province. Flooding and landslides were flagged as serious risks for these areas.
But Maymay was not traveling alone. Far to the east, a second tropical depression had formed the same evening — 1,620 kilometers from Eastern Visayas, moving west-southwest at 40 kilometers per hour. Forecasters expected it to enter Philippine waters by Thursday morning, at which point it would be named Neneng. Within 72 hours of that crossing, it could intensify into a tropical storm, generating rough and dangerous seas along Luzon's northern and eastern coasts by the weekend.
The sequence was sobering but not surprising. The Philippines sits at the heart of one of the world's most active typhoon belts, and October marks the turn into peak season. PAGASA projected five to nine cyclones would affect the country between October 2022 and March 2023, with two to four expected in October alone. For residents in the north already preparing for Maymay's rains, the knowledge that another system was following close behind added quiet urgency to every sandbag stacked and every boat pulled ashore.
Two weather systems were churning toward the Philippines on the morning of October 11, 2022, each on its own collision course with the archipelago. The first had already arrived. A low pressure area that meteorologists had been tracking swelled into a tropical depression just after midnight, crossing the threshold into the Philippine Area of Responsibility and earning the local name Maymay. It was the country's thirteenth tropical cyclone of the year, and the first to arrive in October.
Maymay was positioned 390 kilometers east of Casiguran, Aurora, when the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical, and Astronomical Services Administration issued its advisory late Monday evening. The system was moving west, directly toward the extreme northern tip of Luzon. The Philippines' weather bureau warned that rain would intensify across a swath of provinces on Tuesday: moderate to heavy downpours were expected in Cagayan, Batanes, Apayao, and Ilocos Norte, with lighter but still significant rainfall spreading across Isabela, Kalinga, Abra, and Mountain Province. The agency flagged a serious risk of flooding and landslides in these areas.
But Maymay was not the only concern. Far to the east, another low pressure area had also matured into a tropical depression on Monday evening. This second system was much farther away—1,620 kilometers east of the Eastern Visayas—but it was moving with purpose. It was traveling west-southwest at a relatively brisk 40 kilometers per hour, with maximum sustained winds of 45 kilometers per hour and gusts reaching 55. Meteorologists expected it to shift its course over the next day, turning north-northwest before eventually pivoting northwest as it slowed over the Philippine Sea.
The forecast track suggested this second system would enter the Philippine Area of Responsibility by Thursday morning, October 13. When it crossed that threshold, it would receive its own local name: Neneng. The timing and trajectory raised the possibility that Neneng could trigger tropical cyclone wind signals for extreme Northern Luzon. More immediately, it was expected to stall over the Philippine Sea, potentially intensifying into a tropical storm within seventy-two hours. By Friday or Saturday, it could generate rough seas along the northern and eastern coasts of Luzon—conditions dangerous enough to ground small fishing vessels and commercial boats.
The arrival of two systems in quick succession was not unusual for the season. The Philippines sits in one of the world's most active typhoon belts, and October marks the transition into the peak months. The weather bureau was forecasting between five and nine tropical cyclones to either form within or enter the Philippine Area of Responsibility between October 2022 and March 2023. October itself was expected to see two to four systems. November would likely bring two or three. December one or two. The months of January, February, and March would see fewer, but the possibility of additional storms remained.
For residents in the northern provinces already bracing for Maymay's rains, the knowledge that another system was following behind added weight to the preparations. The first official bulletin on Maymay was scheduled for 5 am on Tuesday, October 11, when forecasters would have more precise data on its movement and intensity. By then, the rain would likely already be falling across Cagayan and Batanes. The second system, still days away, was being tracked with the kind of careful attention that comes from experience—in a region where tropical cyclones are not aberrations but seasonal inevitabilities.
Citações Notáveis
PAGASA said floods and landslides are likely across the affected provinces due to the rainfall from Maymay and the shear line.— Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical, and Astronomical Services Administration
The second tropical depression may intensify into a tropical storm within 72 hours and could trigger tropical cyclone wind signals for extreme Northern Luzon.— PAGASA forecast
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does the Philippines get so many of these systems? Is it just bad luck?
It's geography, really. The country sits directly in the typhoon belt—the band of ocean where warm water and atmospheric conditions align to spin these things up. October through March is when the Western Pacific is most active. It's not luck; it's the calendar.
So when they name them Maymay and Neneng, those are Filipino names?
Yes. The international system gives them different names, but PAGASA, the weather bureau, maintains its own list of local names. It's practical—people respond to names they recognize, names that feel immediate and real.
The second system is still 1,620 kilometers away. Why is that one already being tracked so closely?
Because it's on a predictable path, and the math says it will be here in three days. By then it could be a tropical storm. You don't wait until a threat is at your door to prepare—you watch it form and move, and you adjust your plans accordingly.
What does it mean that they're expecting five to nine cyclones through March? Is that a lot?
It's the normal range for the season. But normal doesn't mean safe. Each one brings rain, wind, the possibility of flooding and landslides. The provinces in the north are already dealing with Maymay. In a few days, they'll be watching Neneng. It's relentless.
Can people actually prepare for this, or is it just something that happens to them?
They prepare—they secure boats, they clear drains, they move to higher ground if they're in flood-prone areas. But preparation only goes so far when you're in the direct path of a weather system. You do what you can and hope the storm weakens or shifts.