Why Hurricanes Suck- Part I: Preparations

The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration gives the following damage estimates for Category 5 Hurricanes: "Catastrophic damage will occur.  A high percentage of framed homes will be destroyed, with total roof failure and wall collapse. Fallen trees and power poles will isolate residential areas. Power outages will last for weeks to possibly months. Most of the area will be uninhabitable for weeks or months."  It was about four days before the storm would hit that we learned that Hurricane Irma was on her way.  Since neither Amy nor I had ever been through a hurricane before, we both set about our hurricane preparations in wildly different ways.

First, I went diving with some fucking sharks.

Now, by happenstance, at the time we heard Irma was coming, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Kalweit, was visiting from Wisconsin.  Kalweit and I have known each other for about 33 years.  We have been through thick and thin, job changes, wives and girlfriends, high school, college, and adulthood, and one near-death experience- mine.  So of course the Universe made sure Kalweit was by my side for my battle against Irma.

Anyway, Kalweit and I went diving three days before the storm hit.  It was a beautiful Monday morning and we set out from next door to the island of West Caicos.  We set out with my buddy Asa at the helm, and about a mile from West Caicos, were met with a pod of dolphins.  About 20 dolphins started swimming with the boat, leaping in front of the boat, jumping around, and it was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.  Asa slowed the boat and we drove with the dolphins for about 15 minutes.  Now, I thought I spoke pretty good dolphin.  I thought as they jumped through the air and squeaked away, they were saying, "Don't worry brothers, there is no storm coming.  Come and play with us."  After the events of the week, I'm pretty sure they were saying "Get the fuck out of here!  Get the fuck out of here!  Get the fuck out of here!"  I left the experience energized.  The dolphins left confident in their place as the smarter species.

Our dive was amazing.  There were fish everywhere, and we found a spot called "Lobster Tower," which is a huge coral formation, not surprisingly, covered in lobsters.  At one point in the dive, I was startled by the appearance of a 10' reef shark, who was slowly swimming by me about 15' deeper than I was.  I looked at the majestic creature and thought, "Surely, if there was dangerous weather coming, this wise beast would not be here."  Again, given my (now understood) inability to communicate with sea-dwellers, I misunderstood the shark.  Actually, what he was saying was "I prefer my meat tenderized.  I'll see you floating out here in a few days..."

We returned rejuvenated.  We found Amy at Def Con 2.  Unbenownst to me, while Kalweit and I were drinking beers and hanging out the day before, Amy was in the process of visiting every single website under the "How to Prepare for a Hurricane" title, and when we returned from diving, was in the process of doing everything she read.  Amy had purchased a 5,500 kW generator, 30 sheets of plywood, 75 gallons of drinking water, tarps, lanterns, propane stoves, wet wipes, and enough food to feed a platoon of men for three weeks.  To put it in perspective, if we had to survive on the soup alone, calorically we could have lasted four days.  However, because my wife rocks, she also purchased two cases of wine and a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Inspired by Amy, Kalweit and I set about securing the Banyan.  We boarded up the doors and windows, disconnected pumps and electrical boxes, and moved all of the important things to higher ground.  I felt bad for my buddy, as his one-week relaxing vacation had turned into Apocalypse Prep 101.  However, being the friend he is, he uttered, "this is a shitshow" under his breath only a few times.  It was at this point, Kalweit had the opportunity to literally take the last plane off the island before the storm.  He had a decision to make.  On one hand was me, his oldest friend, facing a potentially deadly storm, but with only one bottle of Jack Daniels between us.  On the other hand was his children and his beautiful wife, who would have definitely killed his ass had he not come home.  Discretion was indeed the better part of valor, and Kalweit took the last plane off the island before the storm.  (A decision I hope he still lays awake at night contemplating...)

As they were predicting a storm surge of 15'-30', we decided to ride the storm out on higher ground.  Our friend Glenn offered to let us stay in his house for the storm.  As his house is 100' above sea level, we thought this was the best bet.

So, to secure Glenn's house, I grabbed some plywood, cut it to the appropriate size, and took it up to his place.  He also hired a couple handymen, and the three of us were faced with the task of boarding up Glenn's TWO-STORY house.

We boarded up the first story windows pretty easily.  However, when it came to the second story windows, our ladders did not allow us to reach the windows.  The two guys said they had some scaffolding, and went to go get it.  About an hour later, these guys show up with, yes, some scaffolding.  However, let's just say that OSHA would not have approved.  At one point, one of the guys actually whittled a structural piece of the scaffolding.  A piece of life-saving technology, normally made from hardened steel, was now replaced with an old mop handle.  Now, I've been on my fair share of scaffolding, some of which was, let us say, less than optimal.  However, on this day I enacted "Randy's Scaffolding Safety Rule No. 1.: I will not get on scaffolding unless: (1) it is my scaffolding; or (2) I'm getting paid for it."  As neither of these applied to my situation, I served as ground support for two of the most courageous/foolhardy bastards I've ever met.

Having secured our property and Glenn's house, we moved up to Glenn's, or as I had dubbed it, "The Alamo."  In addition, at Amy's insistence, we moved EVERYTHING we owned up to the house.  (Yes, future Banyan Inn guests, we will NEVER, EVER, place the kitchen whisk necessary to make your scrambled eggs, nor your wineglasses, nor any towel or washcloth necessary to wash your face, in jeopardy.)  Also with us came four South Korean pilots, whose role in the upcoming storm would prove vital.

In any event, we were secured; we were on high ground; and we had Jack Daniels.  We were ready.

Up Next: Why Hurricanes Suck- Part II: The Storm.

























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