I got caught in the tail end of a monsoon on a remote island in Indonesia. We'd gone camping there over the weekend, about 9 of us people and nothing else but giant monitor lizards wondering around. Woke up in the middle of the night not being able to breathe and could hear people shouting and screaming. I was in a three person tent and the corner of the tent had blown up in the wind and had buried me underneath it. So the other two people were wrestling with the tent to free me. Eventually they got me out of there and the tent and everything in it went flying off in to oblivion. We were lucky though, there was one guy in a single tent and the wind took both him and his tent off and dumped him unceremoniously out in the ocean. He was very drunk too, so we were worried about him, as he wasn't the most sensible person in the world. His oil lantern was burning in the tent and we weren't sure if he'd drown or set his tent on fire... or both @
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We managed to fish him out eventually, he'd passed out and didn't even realise the danger he was in >.< Then all of us huddled round some palm trees in the middle of the island (Island was only about a mile long, so we didn't feel all that safe) and then we attempted to salvage what we could of our clothing and provisions. We had to wait there two extra days as the boat that was due to collect us wouldn't brave the storm. No tents to sleep in and only the clothes we were wearing for most of us.
Luckily we found lots of cheese, and tin foil, so we lived on Barbecued cheese (once it dried out enough to light a fire).
Since then I've never wanted to go camping or eat BBQ cheese again xD