A massive typhoon spanning roughly the width of France is sweeping across the Pacific toward Taiwan, where it could deliver the largest storm by size in nearly four decades, while landslides in the southern Philippines have already killed at least 15 people and left rescuers digging for the missing.
Typhoon Bavi, stretching 1,000 kilometers, about 620 miles, at its widest point, is expected to dump punishing rain on Taiwan's north and east coasts, lash Japan's remote Sakishima Islands, and make landfall in China's south-eastern Fujian province. Taiwan's Central Weather Administration, as reported by BBC News via Reuters, said Bavi is set to be the largest storm by size to hit the island since 1987.
That is not a statistic anyone in the region is taking lightly.
Overnight landslides on the Philippine island of Mindanao buried families in their homes. At least 15 people died. Rescuers were still combing through debris, though Philippine authorities have not disclosed how many remain missing.
Philippine officials warned that conditions will not improve quickly.
"Moderate to heavy rains will continue to drench parts of the country throughout the weekend."
No specific official was named in that warning, but the message was blunt. The storm that triggered the Mindanao slides was described as one of the strongest in decades, though it remains unclear whether Bavi itself was the direct cause or a separate weather system bore responsibility.
Either way, the death toll is real, and the danger is far from over.
Taiwanese authorities warned Bavi could bring up to one meter, 39 inches, of rainfall. Schools suspended classes. Thousands of sandbags went out to residents and shop owners in flood-prone areas. Taiwan's defence ministry placed 29,000 soldiers on standby for relief operations.
Farmers rushed to harvest and protect crops. Fishermen secured their boats. Chen Ming-hui, a 60-year-old fisherman, captured the mood in remarks to Reuters.
"Don't be fooled by the nice and calm weather now. A storm like this could be the most terrifying."
That warning carries weight from a man who has spent a lifetime reading the sea. The calm before a typhoon of this scale is not reassurance, it is a countdown.
The aviation disruptions alone tell the story of Bavi's reach. Japan Airlines cancelled more than 100 flights for Friday and Saturday, disrupting travel for nearly 20,000 passengers. All Nippon Airways cancelled more than 160 flights through Sunday, affecting roughly 20,000 more. Thai Airways and Malaysia Airlines both grounded flights to and from Taipei.
Dozens of additional flights across the region were scrapped. Tens of thousands of travelers found themselves stranded or rerouting, a reminder that natural disasters impose economic costs long before the first drop of rain hits the ground.
Residents on Japan's remote Sakishima island chain were taping windows and draping windproof nets as Bavi bore down. These small, exposed communities sit directly in the storm's projected path and have limited infrastructure to absorb a direct hit.
For China, Bavi arrives on the heels of Typhoon Maysak, which struck earlier in the week and left at least 39 people dead. More than 130,000 people were evacuated, mostly in the Guangxi region. Maysak caused significant livestock and agricultural losses and spurred two rare tornadoes in central Hubei province. Rescuers were still searching through wreckage for the missing when Bavi's approach forced a new round of preparations.
Chinese officials warned of "significant impact" from the incoming typhoon, though no specific individual was named in that public statement.
Ma Jun, director of China's Institute of Public and Environmental Affairs, offered a more detailed, and more sobering, assessment.
"Bavi's large size and abundant energy mean its remnants and outer rainbands could move from Jiangsu and Anhui provinces toward the Bohai Sea region."
Ma Jun urged northern provinces to "strengthen preparations," noting they have "less experience" dealing with typhoons compared to southern China. That gap in experience matters. Southern coastal provinces have built storm infrastructure and institutional muscle over decades. Northern regions have not faced this kind of test as often, and a typhoon's remnants can still deliver catastrophic flooding hundreds of miles inland.
Some forecasts suggest Bavi could make landfall twice in China, though the specific meteorological agencies behind those projections were not identified.
The one-two punch of Maysak and Bavi lays bare a pattern that repeats every typhoon season across the western Pacific. Communities that depend on agriculture and fishing absorb the worst damage. Evacuation orders come late or reach remote areas slowly. Infrastructure built for average conditions buckles under extreme ones.
In the Philippines, families buried in overnight landslides had no warning system that could outrun the mud. In Taiwan, a 60-year-old fisherman's instinct may prove more reliable than any bureaucratic advisory. In China, a country that can mobilize enormous resources, northern provinces still lack the storm-hardened readiness of the south, a gap that Ma Jun himself flagged publicly.
None of this is new. Typhoon seasons test the same seams every year. The question is whether governments across the region will treat each disaster as a one-off crisis or as evidence that preparedness infrastructure needs permanent, serious investment, not just sandbags handed out when the barometric pressure drops.
Several critical questions hang over the unfolding disaster. How many people remain missing in Mindanao? What is the precise forecast track for Bavi beyond its expected Fujian landfall? Will the storm's remnants reach as far north as the Bohai Sea with enough force to cause major damage in provinces unaccustomed to typhoons? And will the death toll from Maysak, already at 39, continue to climb as rescuers sift through wreckage in Guangxi and Hubei?
The answers will come in the days ahead. For now, the region is doing what it always does: boarding up, stocking up, and hoping the storm tracks slightly differently than the models predict.
Nature does not negotiate with hope. Preparedness is the only currency that spends when the wind picks up.
