Chasing a Hurricane That Wasn’t
This past Sunday I got an email from Mike Phillips, the editor/publisher of the Fernandina Observer which in a nutshell said, “Can you help our team get photos of the upcoming storm Debby?” Sure! An assignment! Storm chasing, I’m on it! Of course, Mike specified we were to take photos afterwards, not putting us in harm’s way. Whatever.
So Monday AM, Bucko and I set off to see what was happening in Fernandina ahead of the projected storm. I was well equipped. I was eager to try out my new rain parka, a luxury model I got with a 40% coupon from Patagonia when I tried to turn in a 10-year-old failing rain jacket (“lifetime warranty,” bah humbug). But with the coupon in hand, I just had to use it. So now I have a rain jacket with all kinds of fancy stuff, like a zipper made of a strange material that is difficult to close, a device in a pocket that supposedly tightens the bottom without getting your hands out (well, it doesn’t work, at least for me) and a contraption tightening the hood from behind the head (difficult to access with old hands like mine). But hey, here it was a maybe-hurricane, and I was ready!
At first, it was an exhilarating start in our car, driving around to see what was happening. At Main Beach, the wind was blowing; the waves were crashing, and a handful of people were there watching the live nature show. While leaving the parking lot, we noticed the warning sign display was in disarray. The flagpole holding the double red, red or yellow flags describing surf conditions had collapsed, with its double red (do not enter the water) flags crumpled to the bottom. What a great omen portending the upcoming storm!
We drove past the closed signs at Fort Clinch State Park and on to the Dee Dee Bartels boat ramp, where nothing much was happening. A bit of wind, a few waves on the river, but nothing exceptional. Moving on to downtown Centre Street, we noted many shops were closed, some were open, and only one shop, Watanut, had sandbags carefully in front of their door. Ah, at least someone was taking precautions. We drove around Front Street (no flooding), and our eye got caught by the open sign at Salty Pelican. It was 11:30 and after all this hurricane searching; we deserved an early lunch, right?
After lunch, we decided to go home and try again to find storm photos later. That afternoon around town, it was still nothing exciting. But all the news reports I’d been following predicted we would be in the area where big storm surges could hit. Low tide was around 11:00 AM the next morning, so once again I donned my super-duper jacket and headed to the usual spots where the water often overflows our roads. But on Atlantic Avenue by Egans Creek, nothing. Front Street was dry. There was no storm surge to report anywhere we checked.
By this time, we realized the bulk of this storm had basically bypassed us. My friends, mid-state in Gainesville, were not so lucky. One friend had two trees crash on their hog pen, nearly scaring their old hog to death but luckily not injuring it. Another friend had a tree blocking her road, causing her power to be out for a while. They had the massive rain predicted before Debby lost its hurricane status, and became a tropical storm that moved east and north, well above Fernandina Beach.
We were lucky this time. Our home's rain gauges only reported 6 ½ inches of rain over two days—nothing to be concerned about, and actually a blessing for our landscapes. Fort Clinch State Park had a few trees down, but these were quickly removed from the road and the park was reopened. The Bosque Bello Cemetery, likewise, had a few downed branches and at least one tree temporarily obstructed Ash Street near Citrona Avenue, but this too was quickly taken care of. Some people lost power but only temporarily, as Florida Public Utilities (FPU) worked to correct things immediately. And by Tuesday, even the toppled flagpole at Main Beach had been removed.
We are grateful to our City, FPU and Fort Clinch staff for quickly attending to this minor storm damage, and are confident that they will do the same should we face a more powerful storm. This storm was a trial run for the next storm that hits us, maybe far worse.
Hurricane Season is upon us! But don’t worry, your “Hurricane Chasers” Pat and Bucko are on the scene! Thank heavens for that expensive Patagonia jacket!
Pat Foster-Turley, Ph.D., is a zoologist on Amelia Island. She welcomes your nature questions and observations. [email protected]
