No More "On" Titles

They're getting old.

So it's been an odd few weeks here in Arrecife. After Hurricane Dean dodged the island, business took a few days to pick back up. By the way - the best time to take a Caribbean vacation? Right after a hurricane. The storm scrubs the skies clean, so you get spectacular weather, very few other guests, very low room rates, and a bunch of hotel staffers sitting around waiting for something, ANYTHING to happen. The island is your oyster. Assuming it wasn't wiped out, of course - if a hurricane is looming over that little Caribbean getaway you've always wanted to visit, I'd still hold off on buying plane tickets.

We opened our department a day earlier than anticipated, which was cool, but we still had very few guests. Then some kids started showing up. Then more kids. Then more kids. The little guys were coming out of the woodwork! It was great at first, but remember that we were already understaffed before the hurricane. There were so many kids after the hurricane that we went back to triple shifts and 6-day workweeks. Still, it was just a 10-day sprint to the finish. Last Monday we closed down the department for six weeks, as kids are finally going back to school. And if they're not, they certainly won't be doing any CAOS programs for a while!

The day after we closed CAOS, I moved out of the apartment. My three other roommates had already left in May, August, and the night before, so I was left to clean out the place and try to get as much of our deposit back as we could (an endeavor in which I was successful, I might add). So where have I been living since then? My boss and her husband went on vacation the very same day I needed a new place to crash, so they've been letting me house-sit all this time. They have a very nice place right behind the Winchester-Swann, and since they own it rather than renting, I don't have to pay any rent either! And since there's no rent to pay, I've sort of started my vacation early. I've been doing a lot of reading, visiting with friends, relaxing, and two days ago I got certified as a Rescue Diver, so I've been having a pretty good time. Of course, I'm still on call for work every day since we're still doing the Stingray Sandbar pontoon trips and there's a big corporate event we're hosting tomorrow, so I'm not being completely lazy. Just mostly lazy. It's a nice break from August.


A while back I went to inspect the damage at Cemetery Beach after Dean. I'm sure you can see why it's called Cemetery Beach. These are fairly common sights along the shores of Arrecife, with the raised graves and pots of silk flowers baking in the sun. After the storm, one would think that the flowers would be gone, but many simply tipped over in the strong winds.


Some flowers managed to break away from their resting spots, however, providing the perfect building material for a sand castle of a different sort. Cemetery Beach, indeed. It should be noted that this picture was taken nearly two weeks after the anniversary of Elvis's death, but that the real date was in the middle of preparations for the storm. I guess there are some things that shouldn't go without recognition.


So now it's just a week or so until I return to the States for my real vacation. In the meantime, the ocean is calling. There's some diving to be done.

On Ending the Waiting Game

Dean has passed, and Arrecife is INCREDIBLY lucky to have escaped the storm's wrath. All day yesterday I was glued to weather reports online and on TV, dreading what would happen to the island. I'll be honest - I was not a fun person to be around yesterday. All I could think about was what was happening a few hundred miles south of here while I spent the day relaxing in the Florida sunshine. (By the way, I'm also a little worried about the fact that I'm getting cold in 95 degree weather. September at home is going to be downright nippy.) Fortunately, Dean dodged the island, veered south, and disaster was averted for our little neck of the woods. It should be noted, though, that I feel so bad for the Yucatan. They will not be so lucky.

I spoke with Boss-Lady tonight and she's asked Kristal and me to return to the island as soon as possible, so I'll be flying back tomorrow night. We expect to be operational again by the 24th, so there's a lot of work to be done in the meantime and they need all the bodies they can get. There has been such a flurry of emailing, instant messaging, booking and canceling of plane tickets, and just general worrying and fretting during the past two days that I think I'll be needing another vacation after this vacation.

And let it be known that I will not leave the island for a hurricane again. I know, this was just a fluke that Arrecife dodged a bullet, but I was so overwhelmed with worry for the people living there that I know I wouldn't be able to do it a second time. I would much rather deal with the conditions of any storm and its aftermath than feel so helpless again.

And besides, then you'll be able to see all the cool storm photos and hear all my cool storm stories. And I'll have hurricane survival bragging rights to add to my shark attack ones - can't forget about that!

On Being in the Path of a Hurricane

Hurricane Dean is on its way. Current forecasts are calling for it to be a Category 5 storm, which is about as strong as these things get. My roommate Kristal and I are packing up the house as we speak, putting everything on the second floor in hopes that it'll escape water damage. The landlady came around and locked all of the storm shutters this evening, so we're about set to make a quick getaway.

We locked up the CAOS House this morning. Honestly, we are somewhat resigned to the fact that it will not survive. The house is lower than sea level (pretty common for our island, actually), in a floodplain, and made of little more than wood frame and drywall. We put as much stuff in a room in the main hotel and the rest at least three feet off the floor, but even that will most likely not be enough. We've done all we can at this point. All of the windows and doors are boarded shut and sandbags are barricading the doors, but we still said our goodbyes.







After that we moved to the other side of the hotel to help the Pool & Beach guys move all of the big, heavy pool chairs into the nearby watersports shop and the neighboring restaurant. After about four hours of lifting heavy wooden chair frames in the hot sun, I'm a little tuckered out.

Speaking of the weather, the past three days have been the most beautiful weather you have ever seen: crystal clear water, clear blue skies, and not a breath of wind (which is not that great when one is carrying the aforementioned pool chairs). It truly is the calm before the storm... but the storm is coming...

When I started writing this post last night, the plan was for me to stay in the Winchester-Swann's Grand Ballroom with the rest of the guests and employees hunkered down for the storm, but late last night I got the call from my boss that I really really should leave the island. REALLY. So I gave all my emergency food, water, and other supplies to a friend staying nearby, then at 1am we checked our hurricane shutters one last time, flipped all the breaker switches, and closed our apartment door. We dropped our cars off on the Bypass, one of the very few hills on the island (artificially made by the Winchester-Swann, of course), and Boss-Lady dropped us off with a teary farewell at the Winchester-Swann's front door for transport to the airport. We eventually made it to the airport around 2am, got our boarding passes by 3am, and were on the plane by 5am, which is a far sight better than those who were not signed up for the Winchester-Swann's charter flight. Arrecife residents were jammed into the airport in lines that snaked around for miles, all of them knowing full well that at some point the storm would be too close for the aircraft, that they would be turned back, and that they would have to quickly seek shelter. As the plane was flying across the Caribbean toward safety, I could see the very start of a sunrise in the distance - a very deep, blood red. Sailor's warning indeed.

We flew into Miami, got through customs, and met Kristal's brother at the airport. At first I was too tired to notice, but I'm definitely all switched around again as to which side of the road I'm supposed to be on. Anyway, we had breakfast and got all set up at his house, I shot off a few emails to let people know my sudden change in plans, then finally went to sleep for the first time in 27 hours. So now I'm in Ft. Lauderdale, looking for flights that will send me home to California in the next day or two, officially a refugee.

I'll admit there's a voice in the back of my head saying that I'm a quitter, that I cut and run, that all my friends are still stuck on the island, and that it's not fair that I left. Still, the island is about to be wiped off the map. I downplayed the seriousness of the storm in my assorted emails and posts, but Arrecife is in for some big trouble. The island rode out Hurricane Ivan, a similar storm, three years ago, and damage is still evident all over the island. As I was driving through the empty streets last night on my way to the Bypass, I saw plywood and hurricane shutters over stores and houses that stood next to other buildings still with holes in their roofs or only partially rebuilt from Ivan. Arrecife is mostly below sea level. The storm surge from Hurricane Ivan was 8 feet in some parts of the island; a foot of water in the ground floor of your house was considered "minimal damage". While many people learned their lessons about complacency from that storm, there is still only so much you can do when a Category 5 storm is bearing down on you. Had I stayed, I would have been safe in the Winchester-Swann's ballroom, but utilities will not be back up for days after the storm passes, if not a few weeks. Most employees will be sent home as soon as the airport is functional again, as conditions will be unsanitary, looting will be rampant, curfews will be set, and the air will be full of mosquitoes and the smell of effluent and dead fish. Despite all of that, part of me wishes I had stayed. Could I have done something to help? Are my friends going to be okay? When will I be able to get back onto the island? What will be left when I do return? For now, though, all I can do is watch and wait as the little swirly mass of clouds on satellite photos inches closer and closer... Stay safe, Arrecife.