Tuesday, October 10, 2017
It wasn't bad, but it left us in the dark.
We persisted in our lifestyle, veterans of random weather events and unforeseen circumstances, seasoned improvisers thanks to ten years of living aboard. Boiling water on the grill and hunkering down in one room after dark got depressing, but only because we weren't really set up for it, here on land. Everyone around the Residencias seemed to be slowly succumbing to a creeping sense that things weren't right, and might not be right for some time to come. That was before.
I spent the day in that hurricane-coming steady adrenaline rush, an awful zing in the air that everyone else clearly felt, all of us hurrying around, unable to think, trying to plan. I'd left the car in the parking garage on campus after chatting with a friend about what the hell we were doing, were going to do. When I got home, Tallulah was buzzed on the adrenaline too, talking to Adam who--I eventually discovered, because I'd had only marginal cell coverage--had spent the whole day looking for flights out of San Juan to anywhere. It was now evening. The thing was on its way. It would be bad. That much was clear.
As it turned, out, at the last possible minute, Adam had found a flight out for us. I drove like mad to the airport because probably we were already late, I would have known that if I'd looked at my watch. I took a picture of where I left the car in the airport parking lot. I had no idea if I would be able to remember where I'd left it, however much later (if ever, because in times like this it's true that you can never go home again, it was never going to be the same place we had left) we returned. I had finally gotten all our stuff from Katrina into the house just the day before.
Our boat narrowly missed being destroyed by both hurricanes. Glad we moved it out of the San Juan Bay Marina, which is basically in exactly the same spot as Club Nautico. Glad Irma passed a few miles away, sparing it as it sat upright, hauled out in Port Charlotte.
That last, previously unscheduled flight out of San Juan happened to be headed for Atlanta, everybody with their dogs and cats and little babies hurtling headlong into their next life. My mom and Tom came and got us in the middle of the night and soon Tallulah was in her element, setting aside the stress of the fact that our life had been transformed into ?????
The same day the hurricane loomed, Adam had gotten a job as Assistant DA in New York State. And so we waited for him to drive up from Florida to collect us, so we could all make a strange pilgrimage north.
Stopping at Denny's in what I'm pretty sure was Trump Country.
Arriving in the North Kingdom of Vermont.
So many decisions.
Posted by Clank at 7:01 PM