Waiting For The Lash Of A Hurricane

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30530, 27 August 1964, Page 2

Waiting For The Lash Of A Hurricane

[By

HARRYETTE E. CORDELL]

The recent news about hurricane Cleo lashing the islands of the Caribbean brought a shiver up my spine, as I remembered my stormy night in a Caribbean hurricane.

This hurricane was called Donna. It was ,1960 and we were living on the island of St. Thomas, in the Virgin Islands. Unlike Guadeloupe, in the recent storm, the only “sugary” crop we had to lose was our tourist industry.

It was the American Labour Day week-end, and we had an overabundance of tourists snatching a few days of sun before lengthening shadows of winter crept over the mainland some 1400 miles away.

St Thomas, a famous island of piracy in the past was unchanged. The present locals could even extract capital out of a hurricane. The hotels have “hurricane parties” for the tourists, which consist of laying in large supplies of “grog,” some food, boarding up the windows, and opening the doors to anyone who cares to pass the fearful hours in a carefree, liquid state of being. Naturally, they charge for these amenities. The radio preached of Donna’s approach, but on that glorious Sunday nothing seemed more impossible. Everyone was more inclined to spend the day at the beach. The United States Weather Bureau’s warning set us busy boarding up windows and lashing down anything that was loose. Old-timers Ignored Old-timers said it would never come, but the weather office predicted the “eye” of Donna would hit at 6 o’clock on Monday morning. The yachts left their moorings and took shelter in nearby coves and bays, leaving the exposed harbour empty. None of us took the situation very seriously until the Governor announced that people living in low-lying areas must evacuate. At this point we began to work with a new intensity to prepare for the blow, for we lived on the beach. The weather remained calm and it was hard to believe that in such a few hours, catastrophe might strike. St. Thomas is an island 15 miles long and two miles wide which Donna could easily swallow in her anger. We

knew we had to leave our little house, and we sadly realised that we. may never see it again. We felt the desire to stay and protect our possessions and yet we knew we could lose our lives in this futile attempt to fight a hurricane. By late afternoon there was no doubt about Donna’s approach. The sky was still clear, but the wind was rising. The sea had a weird, ominous sound. No Comfort We had been invited to weather the storm with friends, who lived in a stone house on a cliff high above the sea. We arrived at their house in the early evening. By the last light of day we could see the frigate birds circling the harbour and large black clouds building up in the south. We listened to the radio drone on as darkness fell, and we continued to sit on the large open porch enjoying the coolness of the ever-rising wind. It felt delightful after the hot-tropi-cal day. We ate dinner in relative quiet, devoid of comforting words for each other. The music on the radio was interrupted from time to time with news of the other islands being hit. It was sad. The hour of 10 p.m. found us still sitting on the porch on the leeward side of the house, watching the town lights twinkle, then fade as the wind grew wild and the electrical systems failed. We all became very philosophical with the thought of no tomorrow, and yet, we felt a wild excitement with each news report telling of Donna’s approach. We pondered the question of why all hurricanes are named after women. By midnight all was darkness. The sound of the roar-

ing wind and pounding sea made it impossible to talk. We decided to retire. On leaving the coolness of the porch we were met at the door with a wall Of hot, stagnant air. Lying in bed listening to the transistor blare with inane songs, like “Stormy Weather” was more than I could bear. With each news item, the fear within me grew until I felt I would explode. Suddenly, I found myself running through the house to the porch. Warm rain was falling now and the wind was sweeping it across the porch in Sheets. It felt wonderful after the oppressive heat of the house.

Dawn was near. In the pale light I could see the frigate birds still circling. The others joined me on the porch to find relief from the heat. We noticed the time and felt real fear. It was 6 ami., time for Donna to arrive. Gentle Rain We .were standing huddled together. When suddenly, as if someone had thrown a switch, the wind and rain ceased! We were deafened by the stillness. We knew the “eye” had come and it would be only minutes before the storm resumed with twice its intensity from the opposite direction. We braced ourselves and waited. Now a gentle rain began to fall. The radio could be heard through the quiet. “Hurricane Donna has unexpectedly changed course. She is now headed due north and away from the island of St. Thomas. She is expected to hit the island of Anagoda within minutes. Untold damage has been reported from

. . . Loss of communications with . . . Property damage in the millions. . . . Loss of life is expected to exceed . . The gentle rain continued.