Shredded tarps and more than a few frayed nerves also came with the torrential rains and the chugging whirlwinds that followed to rule the night.
While now dead and gone, the tropical storm did strike fast and furiously, arriving after dark and staying late until morning. The good news was we were left mostly unscathed by comparison with what other such weather events do elsewhere.
The rough tropical greeting we received from over the Gulf of St. Lawrence awakened survivor spirits around the west coast of the island before it grounded out over the Big Land and fizzled into chill north seas.
Revisited revisions riveting
Frenchman’s Cove. Saturday night. Whipping sheets of luke-warm rain which initially caught people outside by surprise would just as hurriedly send them retreating to shelter, drenched head to toe in sheer seconds.
Others soon found they had to get out in it, like it or not, whenever dangerous prospects bring right things to do.
More just let it pass by, though frequently stopping, looking and listening as roofs creaked and chimneys whistled.
For those compelled by conscience and summoned courage to get out in it, drawn into the realities of life by the bay shore, it was found to be an uplifting experience, in more ways than one. I know. I was there. Thrice.
Firstly, seeing dories yet lashed to wooden launchways being tossed like corks or swamped by crashing, windswept waves and the swollen storm surge, the tide making high at the growing moon, the adventure began.
Secondly, it took shape as a swath of cool-headed area fishers and assorted local landlubbers quickly emerged determined to save what they could before things actually got worse, men who swiftly determined what needed doing and did so as efficiently as the elements would permit, engaging wit, will and pickup trucks to land the little boats on terra firma; and, all hands safe and secure back, albeit rain-soaked to the skin and with rubber boots full of waves.
Lastly, in hometown McIvers upon Monday’s return, I stood haunted at my own lasting words from last week, seeing a plywood hatch that I myself had not adequately battened against the then-anticipated storm jammed against a neighbour’s fence, evidence that it, thrown by the wind, had barely missed his new car, and; disturbed in my own negligence and a greater realization that flesh and blood also occasion to pass in storms, too.
Blessed to live in one of the world’s more moderate climates, we do occasion to be less vigilant than we ought to be at times, particularly when it come to warnings of precipitous wind events. -
School and hard knocks
Knowing that even the best of intentions without full survivor mode engaged at such times can lead to irreparable damage or even personal tragedy, we are called to stand attentive, yet able to laugh, relieved that it was meant to be things turned out no worse. Grateful.
Here, taking a better understanding from nature and what preparedness means for certain future storms, we must stand reminded that the hurricane season in the North Atlantic is just beginning. Though none may find us.
Good news that related personal injury and property damage was gracefully limited this time, it is additionally nice to hear of neighbours welcoming frightened neighbours into their homes to weather the storm together.
Blessed to live in one of the world’s more moderate climates, we do occasion to be less vigilant than we ought to be at times, particularly when it come to warnings of precipitous wind events.
Fortunately, it was only Earl’s froth, more than its wrath as an earlier category-4 hurricane, that was left to catch our attention, though not closely enough for some still.
Experts tell us we may expect more of this extreme weather. It is well-known that it has more than once blown harder than that around here in the last half-century. Given, Augusts are generally not quite as august as this last one; and, many an old skipper might tell you that one 60-mile-an-hour September wind might seem plenty for stirring up fish and driving them together to seek shelter in a boat. But, that’s another story.
(Fleeting moments: Did you know that the ugly old connor, a coastal scavenger, is one of the smartest fishes in the sea? They swim under the wharf when it rains so they don’t get wet.)
