Hurricane Isis Diary
"... squalls out on the gulf stream, big storm's coming soon..."
September 1st, 3pm
I've just watched John Ireland, Sonny Vigil, and our San Diego electricians, Bill & Maggie head on out to the airport for their return to San Diego. Bill & Maggie have just finished hooking up our new Kohler 150kw generator. I swear that John has a sixth sense regarding hurricanes - he always seems to get out of town just in time.
It's been raining lightly all day, and this time of year I keep a close watch on the weather advisories, as we're in the middle of hurricane season. At 3:50 the Weather Channel advises there's a new tropical storm in the Eastern Pacific - Isis, with winds of 50mph heading north at 9mph. It's position is less than 200 miles south of us which means we're going to take a direct hit sometime tomorrow. As soon as I advise our operations manager, Jon, he quickly arranges to get all the boat crews back to get all the boats out of the water. Almost as an afterthought I call Cha-Cha at Palmas de Cortes, making sure she knows about the storm. I try to call the other hotels, but their phones aren't working - I don't have time to send anyone over, so they're on their own.
We usually have more time to get prepared for storms - we hope we aren't going to get caught with our proverbial "pants down". While Jon is working on the boats I have Ranger and the other birds moved inside the hotel, and instruct our hotel manager, Gregorio, to arrange for some of the staff to spend the night at the hotel, as I'm positive by morning the roads will be impassable. In the meantime we advise the guests of the pending situation and I wind up taking some of them out in my 4x4 to the Geraldo's, our taxi service, and send them to San Jose while the roads are still open. I continue on to Los Barriles to gas up while I still can. I make a pit stop at Casa Barnett, where Sheila fills me up with a big bowl of homemade beef stew - if Sheila had a sister who could cook like her, I'd seriously consider retiring my bachelor status. On the way back the road is impassable at a spot we call snot hill - a small rise made of clay - whenever any rain hits it it becomes as slick as you-know-what. I decide to leave my truck at the Geraldo's [which turned out to be a very lucky choice on my part], and call via radio for Gregorio to come and get me at the top of snot hill, and proceed to walk up the hill and wait for him. He barely manages to reach me in his 4x4, and we slip & slide back to the ranch.
By the time we get back the staff has started to put up the storm windows, and Jon has retrieved the pangas and several of the cruisers. It's apparent he won't be able to get all the cruisers out, so he wisely sends the remaining boats to La Paz, just before pulling out our dock. Our digital satellite TV's don't pick up a signal in the rain, so our only eyes and ears to what's happening is my satphone internet connect. I keep trying to get an update from the Weather Channel's website, but as of 10pm they only have the 5pm PDT position - about 150 miles south of Cabo San Lucas, still headed directly north. The reported wind speed is 60mph - we really aren't that concerned, we often get hit with that much wind a couple of times a year with no problems. I make a mental note to send a berating e-mail to the Weather Channel - normally they provide good coverage of Eastern Pacific tropical storms, but as soon as the smallest tropical depression develops in the Atlantic or Caribbean, they forget we even exist. As a precaution which I don't think will ever be used, I transfer all the accounting and engineering files to my travel computer, empty the safe, double wrap everything in plastic bags, and stuff it all into backpack which I leave next to the front door, just in case I need to beat a hasty exit. We finish buttoning things down and turn in to wait for Isis to pay us a visit.
September 2nd, 2am
The wind starts to howl and my palapa roof is shrieking in protest. I check outside and notice a couple of inches of water running through my patio. Federal power was lost about an hour ago, which was expected - our maintainance man, Horacio, was standing by, eager to try out our new generator. Within a few minutes, the new plant is pumping life-sustaining current through the electric veins of the resort. The rain is coming down in torrents, but everything seems OK. Isis is letting us know she's here. I'm a little concerned about how the birds are dealing with the storm, so grabbing my raincoat, I jump on the quad and cruise through the horizontal rain up to the hotel, where it's apparent my presence has put a damper on the hurricane party the employees are having in the bar. Chasing everyone off to bed, I look in on Ranger and his buddies, and am relieved to find them comfortably sleeping in room 1. Satisfied we're as prepared as we can be, I slosh through the mud back to my place to try to get forty winks. I doze back off and awaken about 4am and stick my flashlight out the window - everything looks the same so I turn my internal switch back to off. At 6am I'm awakened by Jon on the VHF, wanting to know if I have any storm updates. As I'm heading for the computer to check on things there's a big bang against the side of my trailer, so I go out to investigate. The center post of my palapa is leaning against the side of the trailer - I slosh through the running water on the patio and shine my flashlight on the far post, thinking it might have collapsed - to my astonishment, the spot where my boat and concrete bodega should be has been replaced by a massive torrent of water at least 200 feet across - and only feet from washing my home out to sea. I rush back inside with only a few moments to decide what to save. I stuff some clothes in a bag, grab the backpack with all the money, and head over to Gregorio's. If you ever thought about what would you save if your house caught fire, I now know what it feels like. It looks like I might have a few minutes before I lose the place, so I rush back and grab my briefcase, the travel computer and the satphone, dropping them off at Gregorio's. As the torrent moves ever closer, I attempt to save the quads, managing to get them out from under my collapsing roof and to higher ground all the while Gregorio's family is yelling at me to get out. By this time we are concerned about Gregorio's place, so he takes his baby in his arms, I take one last look at my vanishing piece of paradise, and we all start through the waist-deep water towards the hotel and higher ground.
The wind is still howling and I'm a bit concerned for the roof over the dining room - each wind gust lifts up the northeast corner several inches off the building.. All the storm windows are up except for the window at the bar, where we sit mesmerized by the huge waves breaking on the beach, and the overwhelming amount of debris being deposited there. I sense that the several remaining guests want to whine about the storm, but my besheveled appearance and the knowledge that everything I own is in a bag sitting on one of the dining room tables holds their complaints in check. About 3pm Isis's assault suddenly stops - within the span of an hour we have gone from witnessing Mother Nature's fury to calm winds, clearing skies, with the only reminders of Isis's passage is the still-angry sea and incredible amount of debris everywhere. The new generator is acting up, we suspect a fuel problem, so we switch over to "Old Reliable" - our ever dependable 40kva generator. She fires up flawlessly, in a valiant effort to show that we didn't really need to replace her with the newer, more powerful Kohler unit.
Later on we visit the former location of Hacienda Divertido - the cement steps are the only evidence anything was there before. I feel very strange - instead of being distraught over the loss of nearly everything I own, I'm feeling a new freedom - if you don't own anything you have nothing to worry about. After all, I still have Ranger, my truck [I hope], my quad, a computer & my satphone - what else do I really need? [my jacuzzi survived and I still have my old trailer].
September 3rd
The day breaks with clear skies, calm seas and a sense of normalcy returns. I find what I miss the most are the little things we take for granted - shampoo, a toothbrush, a change of clothes, shoes. I raid John's house and find a clean towel, some shampoo and a hairbrush. After trudging through the muck to get the quads, taking a nice long shower and washing my hair almost seems like a forbidden luxury. Checking out the beach afterwards, I find an appropriate monument to this whole episode - sitting on the beach in front of the hotel is my toilet. There's pieces of my place strewn all over the beach from here to La Ribera. One of the homeowners found my safe on the beach; thinking he had found buried treasure he carried it home on his ATV and broke it open. I'll bet he was surprised when the only thing he found inside was a picture of me.
Jon has sent out a work crew to repair the roads. Gregorio has got the staff working on getting the hotel back in order. Early in the afternoon a get a ride to the Geraldo's to pick up [I hope] my truck. After everything that's happened it was a great relief when we pulled up to where I had parked the truck, and there it was - not a scratch on it. I jumped in and headed over to my friend Al Barnett's place in Buena Vista. The road was unbelievable - at one point the Leonero road had a 10ft deep washout nearly 200ft across - I had to go up the wash almost a half mile before a found a spot to get back up on the road. Once on the highway I couldn't go safely over 30mph, as there were washouts everywhere. Getting to Al's, we dig through the spare computer parts and find a cable so I can get back online. After fixing me up with some of life's necessities, like shampoo, deodorant, and a toothbrush, Al and I decide to cruise the town to check out the damage. Dodging downed power poles and monster road washouts we head for the big arroyo north of Los Barriles - it looks like it's going to be awhile before anybody will get through this way. There's a huge section of road that has simply vanished, leaving a 20ft sheer drop at both sides. In town there's only one place with any activity - Tio Pablo's. He's got a couple of generators doing overtime in order to be the only place open. With power out to the town, everything else is closed down.
After dropping Al off I have another adventure getting back to Leonero. Once there I find the only thing to survive the flood of '98 was my bag full of Jimmy Buffett CD's. Later this evening I join the Houston's for dinner in town. On the way home we stop at the grocery store for some supplies, I almost found myself buying a can of coffee - until I remembered I don't have a coffeemaker anymore - o pues!
September 4th
It's another gorgeous day - except for the debris on the beach you'd never know what happened. Things are getting back to normal - the boats are back from La Paz, CFE says that power should be restored tomorrow, our well is providing the only potable water in the area, guests are arriving, and life is good. I'll be staying in my old trailer until I figure out what to do - it was good enough for my first 4 years - it'll be good enough for now. I'll be heading to San Diego this weekend for some clothes, equipment & supplies. Cruising into town, I watch a caravan of at least 20 water trucks heading for Cabo - I guess the stories of Cabo having no water is true. I've been invited to the Houston's for dinner - while sitting out on their patio overlooking the beach, I start reading aloud the first draft of this adventure. I stop reading as everyone's attention is diverted by a large piece of debris in the water. Turning around, I immediately recognize my front door gently floating out to sea.
September 5th
Spending the day getting my old place cleaned up, I find an old pair of shoes - good enough for the trip to San Diego. One of the hotel guests found my shortwave radio while out snorkeling - I suspect that treasure from Casa Divertido will be washing up for years. The ride to the airport is an adventure - at least a dozen places where the elevated roadbed is gone. It's going to be months, or maybe years, for the wounds to the infrastructure to be mended. As we pick our way through the detours, I count at least 20 downed power poles, and about 250 CFE workers with lots of equipment trying to restore power to the area. Upon takeoff, the plane passes over the East Cape - from 20,000 feet up you can see a huge gash in the earth, running all the way from the mountains to Leonero.
September 6th
Things are starting to dry out; the beach crew has recovered the chassis of my trailer and what's left of my panga. It looks like my trailer tumbled all the way downstream, disgorging its contents along the way, then abruptly stopped as the bare frame slammed into the now-pretzeled dock.
Epilogue
It's September 15th, and things have settled down back to routine. I've got some new clothes, shoes, and have resumed the daily routine at my old place. I've got the new DSS TV system running, replaced the cell phone system, purchased the essential equipment to get my office back running, and have the accounting back up to speed. With the expectation I'll be in this spot for a couple of years, we're planning on putting a new palapa over the new Hacienda Divertido, and will move my jacuzzi here. I don't think anyone realizes how lucky we really are - Cabo still doesn't have drinking water, news reports indicate that government troops are delivering water in jugs house to house, and that a barge from the mainland is ferrying water for the hotels in the Los Cabos tourist zone.
A few days ago one of the homeowners found a piece of my boat with my logo on it while snorkeling. As a reminder of this whole episode, it will be on permanent display in my front yard. As Buffett would say -
"...times are rough, and I got too much stuff, I can't explain the likes of me..."
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