Hurricane Richard

From Report written October 27, 2010

Hurricane Richard didn’t look like much. It was a little thirty-mile-an-hour something wobbling around the Caribbean south of us. We knew from weather reports that it had strengthened somewhat and probably would pass up the coast toward the Yucatán. We knew we would get some wind and a lot of rain, but I was perfectly comfortable with that— until…

Alex came up to see me early Sunday morning, 24th of October, and said that we had to evacuate. Before I could argue, he said, “because of the cars.” I have had to have my car commercially cleaned three times already. This time, Alex thought the water might get his SUV, too.

Alex and María made trip after trip, bringing things from their apartment up to my guest room for safety. The bed was piled high with bulging large black lawn bags of clothes and heaven knows what else. They knew their area would be flooded.

I packed hastily, forgetting several things, and we took off at noon for Burrell Boom. María’s employers and long-time friends of both A&M, Lourdes and Giovanni Smith, had invited us to shelter at their home outside Boom.

Alex loaded all his computer equipment, plus things they would need, into the back of his car. My trunk held my things. María and the three dogs rode with me. Alex suggested that he follow me, but I told him that would make me nervous. I would follow him.

Alex drove at a Mother-friendly speed. We expected bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Northern Highway, but the road was fairly clear. The trip took about forty-five minutes.

 

Lourdes and Giovanni have a charming, large, sprawling home. They even had a kennel for our dogs, who hated it. It was a great relief for us, since our other option would have been to leave the dogs in my car the whole time. Raven howled most of the time we were there, while Duchess sat next to her quietly. They had a roomy doghouse for shelter from the rain. The dogs made a muddy mire of the grassy run they had started with.

Relatives of our hosts were in the party. We totaled ten. By a miracle, they had beds for all of us. The large bag of frozen chicken I had prepared to give Lourdes was one of the things left behind—partly because Alex never came with an ice chest to clean out my ice makers. I think she was just as glad because she was fixing three chickens for the crowd for dinner.

Just sitting and waiting for the storm was aggravating. Alex had his little radio and kept track of coordinates of Richard as it approached. I had trouble hearing either conversation or the radio because my hearing aids couldn’t cope with the number of voices plus the rattling wind. I excused myself and took a nap. Allegedly, Richard had 90-mph winds when it came through our area.

We had a nice dinner together. I excused myself early and was in bed by 8:30 pm.

Monday morning (October 25th) we could see that the only damage was a tree down and miscellaneous branches and leaves scattered about.

Giovanni and Alex left for town in his larger SUV, hoping that the road was open. It was. Downed trees had been removed, and the only water was in Belize City and was shallow enough to drive through. They checked Giovanni’s office and our house. On the way back, they checked on a few friends and relations to make sure they were safe.

 

Alex had talked to our next-door neighbor, Steve Thompson. Steve reported that the sea washed over our 3-foot-high seawall and splashed halfway up the lampposts. Three sections of our fence were down, and the scavengers already had been run out of the yard by Steve and by the watchman in the new building across Hutson Street.

We packed up quickly and drove back to town. It was two vastly relieved dogs who were freed from their prison and were back in the car with two-thirds of their family.

There was an inch or more of mud in the garage and under the house. The water had been almost two-feet deep in Alex and María’s apartment. The water had drained out, leaving deep mud. Thanks to help from Steve, Alex was able to get two men to make temporary repairs to the fence so we could let the dogs into the yard. Cleaning Raven and Duchess up every time they have been out is another story.

 

Yesterday after a tip, Alex retrieved one of the missing sections of fence from in front of the Peace Corps building on Gabourel lane. It had washed two blocks up Hutson Street, turned the corner, and continued for about another block. The contractor who supplied workmen to do the temporary fence repairs says the whole fence needs upgrading. Alex and I knew that.

 

I had water in a small spot in the living room and my bedroom. Nothing damaged. Water poured in under my bedroom door that leads onto the veranda, soaking my runner. Aside from water blowing in through louvers that won’t seal shut, which I get on any bad rainstorm, my house was not damaged.

 

María and Alex are sleeping in my guest room and having meals with me. Gradually, they are getting rid of the mud in the patio and garage. Just today Jill Bell told me of a company that did a remarkable job cleaning Ann Crump’s downstairs apartment. Alex has called them, and the man in charge is to meet him here later this morning. If his people can sort out the apartment, it will be a godsend for María and Alex. And it will go on the insurance claim.

 

From email sent October 29, 2010

Two men have been working on A&M’s apartment for three days. They finished this noon. They moved almost everything movable out of the apartment and under the house, pressure-cleaned everything, and polished frantically before putting things back. María said her house never had been so clean. The furniture is back in the apartment now. María has to put kitchen supplies back in drawers and cupboards. The mattress from their bed was taken off to be dehumidified, sprayed for mildew, and dried. It should come back later today. I think this will be their last night upstairs with me.

I have enjoyed our evenings together. They come in after dark, covered with mud. They shower, change, and join me for a revivifying beer. We have a light supper and early bedtime.

My damage was slight—small leaks in the ceiling in living room and bedroom, mildew on the couch by the windows, and the loss of a riser on the bottom front step. Insurance will cover it. However, it won’t cover repairs to the fence.

Alex and María are exhausted, but finally feel things are falling into place. I’m fine. I still find it hard to believe that the small storm I paid so little attention to turned into the first real hurricane to hit us in a few years.