A little less than 11 months ago I took my schooner over to the “base docks” and, like most of the other local sailboat owners, strung her out like a spider in a web. It’s all part of what in our family we call “Preparation H” – preparing for a hurricane! Hurricane Dorian at the time was wreaking havoc in the Bahamas as a Category 5 storm and, for a while at least, threatening to do the same right here on Ocracoke.

Fast forward…

After dropping my morning charter party back at my dock just before noon on Friday, I didn’t even stop the engine. Just motored on over and put her back in her hurricane spot. I must say it served me well last year in Dorian when she came through without a scratch. Wish I could say as much for my house which took 13” of floodwater over the downstairs floors. 

And now as I write this, carefully watching the level of my scotch bottle descend, I’m cautiously optimistic that Tropical Storm Isayeeyahss will treat us a bit more kindly. I say “cautiously” because the storm is still more than 24 hours away and so in the unlikely event it should do like Alex did in 2004 my arrogance might come back and bite me in the derrière! (Pardon my French … it must be the scotch).

Those who were here will remember that Alex was forecast to be only a tropical storm or, at worst, a minimal hurricane.  No need to evacuate in the height of the season. I briefly considered taking our cars to higher ground but eventually opted to get with the laissez-faire attitude of the general consensus – saved myself the walk. Who could have guessed?

At the last minute Alex changed course and intensity and gave us the highest floodwaters in the island’s memory, even surpassing the level of the infamous ’44 storm (that was before these storms had unpronounceable names). As we watched in amazement from our more or less dry front porch, the water in our driveway went from the bottom of our cars’ tires to the middle of their windows in about 20 minutes! As we gawked at this we were further amazed to see legions of unevacuated visitors kayaking jubilantly down our driveway on the torrent of sewage-water.

Fortunately, the county health officials noticed that too and immediately called for an evacuation. Better late than never.  Besides our two, at least 398 other cars were destroyed by the storm. 

This time around the emergency planners were taking no chances. They met Friday morning and decided to evacuate visitors at noon. Their task here is never easy – evacuate too soon or (much worse) unnecessarily, and some business owners will scream that you’ve ruined their livelihoods. Evacuate too late and you’re blamed for whatever the storm might do in the way of property destruction and human suffering. This time around their task was made a bit more challenging by the fact that shoaling in the approach channel to Ocracoke had already reduced the sound ferry crossings to only the smaller, shallow-draft ferries. Not to mention the 25 emergency trailers temporarily used by Dorian victims that needed to be taken inland to higher ground. Oh, and did I mention the pandemic and need for social distancing? Mon Dieu!

While I’m sure there will be garment rending and teeth gnashing from some who look at the relatively fine weather we are experiencing as I write this, the full moon rising outside my window, distraught that there are no money-spending visitors here to share it, I certainly have no complaints. If events of 2020 have taught me nothing else it’s that every day is a gift.  This is a wonderful time to take a break from the five-abreast (maskless) crowds swarming down our streets. Hell, they’ll be back! Chill! C’est la vie!