Category Archives: Weather

A Walk Through Mirlo

Storms are unique experiences, and it’s a relief when they’re over. This time around, we had the luxury of having all our utilities in tact. Other than a little apprehension and loss of conceptual time, life here was not too bad.

The tide was down this morning, so we got the truck and drove north for a walk through Mirlo. I started taking pictures there over 35 years ago, long before the subdivision was developed. I’ve seen the road moved, destroyed and rebuilt multiple times. It has become a wonder and curiosity for me. I hardly ever get bored observing it. Walking it after a storm, I get feelings of deja vu.

It’s a battle of man against nature. Nature is winning and Mirlo Beach is washing away. The sign at the entrance to the subdivision reads: “Dare to Dream the Impossible Dream”.

An occupant of this house didn’t heed warnings, and had to be rescued during the storm. The hawser supplied by the rescuers is still tied in place.

Here is what’s left of the victim’s pick up truck.

This is Mirlo’s last stand.

Utility rooms under some Mirlo cottages were destroyed .

A leaner stands second in line from the north end.

The cottage on the very end was recently moved back and new piles installed. Ten feet of sand and renovations to the property were washed away. The house is condemned once again.

Pools at Mirlo Beach oceanfront are not a good idea.

The sign at Seagull Street succumbed to the ocean’s power.

Here’s that guy’s truck again. No free parking here.

Recovery will take some time. There’s miles of roadwork, and our only physical link to the mainland is by ferry, again. It’s an island and always will be.

Sandy Waves

Yesterday the hurricane surged sound tide, flooded our town and streets. We waited it out with our vehicles stowed on higher ground, unable to drive anywhere. My vehicle of choice became a pair of chest waders. I walked to the ocean front to take in the spectacle of hurricane surf. The center of the storm was passing to our northeast, and the winds were howling from a westerly direction.

The beach was strewn with debris. There were pieces of houses and decks.

And there were pieces of Rodanthe Pier. This is the end, complete with rod holders. Lumber is a precious commodity, and I wish I could take it home with me.

After seeing powerful storms for most of my life, I’m still in awe with the experience.

Hurricane Sandy

This has been one of the most unusual storms that I have been through. All seemed normal as Sandy came up offshore. We see lots of systems doing this. Northeast winds are fairly typical with those types of storms. Most of the time they recurve out to sea, and go away.

Last night as Sandy came more abreast of Hatteras, winds became more northerly. Then in passing further northward, we got the expected winds of north west and kicking in a little harder.

This morning the wind direction went more west. Coupled with high lunar tides, we began to see the waters of Pamlico Sound rising. By about 10am, the water was a little over a foot deep in the yard. At 11, I noticed a slight drop in the water depth.

Yesterday everyone picked spots of higher ground to park vehicles. It seemed most folks chose the parking lot at the strip mall in Waves.

The Pamlico Sound tide didn’t drop as much as I had expected, but I knew darn well it would get higher. It rained all day Sunday, with my rain gauge registering 9 inches.

Last night I brought in my friendly felines. Here Grey Guy relaxes with Big Foot. At 2 years old, this is their third hurricane.

The sound tide began coming in about 6 o’clock, and kept rising until 10 or so.

The water was all around my studio, and seemed to level off by 11am.

We heard a home at Mirlo Beach fell into the sea, but this won’t be the only loss, by a long shot.

I’m hopeful that this will be the extent of our dealing with Sandy, then we can begin putting our lives back together.

Under the Influence

It’s been exactly a year since hurricane Irene churned through Pamlico Sound. In the aftermath, things are generally back to normal, but I have to admit I’m more apprehensive than I used to be. The subtle reminders are all around us. I don’t want to deal with it again any time soon.

The bridge at the inlet forged by Irene, is the hallmark reminder of the storm.

A first time visitor from the midwest recently asked me about living here, surrounded by so much water. How do we deal with storms? Yet he noted the stunning beauty of these barrier islands. That’s what makes it so special.

Hatteras Island exists because of the elements, and is being transformed every day. I told him that it’s a tradeoff. One has to come with the other. That’s the price we pay to live here on the ocean.

I love this time of year. The high tourist season is coming to an end, and this is a time of tropical influence.

Clouds and sky dominate the scenery.

A cumulonimbus shelf cloud rolls in as the ice cream truck drives on.

Torrential downpours have been common during July and August.

Sea Oats in full bloom are turning to gold.

Wispy cirrus clouds reflect the setting sun.

Cumulous clouds over the horizon mark the tepid Gulf Stream waters.

Rainbows come and go quickly.

Nightfall in the town of Waves. Cumulonimbus perhaps?

Every day is a gift.

Recovery

The post storm recovery has been a unique experience. In many ways, it’s much more stressful than the storm itself. Hurricane Irene feels like it was just last week, pummeling the villages of Rodanthe, Waves and Salvo. The time of day and the day of the week are remote concepts. It is not business as usual. For me personally, I have experienced emotional highs and lows. One moment I see the devastation of my neighbors’ flooded homes, and then next, I’m witnessing people coming together with incredible support.

Right after the storm, I D Midgett was reunited with his grand-daughter, Bryanna. Both of their homes were inundated with sound tide, and are unlivable. Neighbors have opened up their homes to accommodate them, while they rebuild.

The Volunteer Fire Departments have been instrumental in maintaining everyone’s safety. Hours after the storm’s exit, they were out doing things like checking leaking gas tanks, and later, righting headstones in family cemeteries. Here, Tom Murphy and Jim Shimpach discuss recovery with a rescue squad worker.

Tombstones lay flat on the ground at the ravaged cemetery in the Salvo Day Use Area.

Then there are the volunteers from communities to our south. They came in droves offering a tremendous amount of manpower, stripping houses of water damaged materials, furniture, appliances and cleaning up tons of debris. Russell, Mole and Wolfie (above) drove up from Buxton to lend a hand. They were at my house tearing down plywood underpinning and wet insulation. Then they went on helping many others in need, for several days.

The Salvation Army was here almost immediately, bringing in food and supplies so desperately needed. Not only that but they always greeted us with smiles and uplifting spirits.

The North Carolina Baptist Men brought in portable laundromats and hot showers. And with the Salvation Army scaling back, the Baptist Men are preparing our hot meals every day. Yesterday two of them drove up to my neighbor’s house and offered to spray the underside of her floor to kill any mold that had started. Then they came over to treat the underside of my house, and after that to my other neighbor’s house.

All these selfless people are heros in my book. I could go on and on. From the Dare County Health Department giving out tetanus shots, to Tilghman Gray bringing up a load of fresh bluefish and putting on the best fish fry ever.