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Grand Cayman is a small island in the British West Indies, 100 miles south of Cuba and 150 miles west of Jamaica. The island is 23 miles long and only 6 miles wide. On September 11th 2004 it was hit by a category 5 hurricane. We had sustained winds of 165 mph and gusts of up to 208mph which have left this tiny island devastated.
Eight weeks ago I was back home in East Yorkshire getting married to the love of my life, Peter. We had an article published in the The Journal Magazine depicting our idyllic lifestyle here in the Cayman Islands. The price we pay for living this lifestyle in the Caribbean is the risk of hurricanes. This area is know as hurricane alley for a good reason and although Grand Cayman has endured hurricanes such as Gilbert (1988) and Michelle (2001), nothing like Hurricane Ivan has occurred in living memory of the people here.
Our first weeks of marriage have certainly been eventful. In the first week of August we flew back to Grand Cayman to get back to work (our honeymoon planned for February in the snow in Colorado) and were faced with hurricane Charley, a Category 1 hurricane which just brushed by us with strong winds and rain. Peter had just started a new job with the British Red Cross after working in the watersports industry for 6 years here. He served in the British Royal Navy for 22 years prior to this; training that no doubt has helped him cope with this catastrophe. So he was busy preparing the shelter and gathering supplies, whilst I was back teaching.
When a tropical storm is nearby the island has a system of flags which give you a warning of the imminent hurricane and allow you to prepare. You have to make sure you have plenty of batteries, a radio, torch, candles and a full tank of gas in the car. Stocking up on food and water and other essential items are all things that should be done. Storm shutters or boards should be put across windows to protect them from flying objects, and shelters open for those whose houses may be at risk of coastal flooding.
As Hurricane Ivan made its way through the Caribbean it left Grenada 90% devastated and we knew this was one to watch out for. As the storm approached people prepared and closely listened to the weather reports. Ivan continued to strengthen and fluctuated between a cat 4 and cat 5 hurricane (the wind strength and speed determines the category, cat 5 is the worst it gets. When it reached Jamaica we knew if it went north we'd be experiencing bad weather but not the strongest of the winds, which are felt if a hurricane passes south of you. It went south of Jamaica and slowed down, thus giving us another day to prepare but also getting bigger and stronger.
By this stage, 24 hours before it was due to hit us family and friends were busy calling and emailing having heard news of us being in the path of this monster. News had also filtered through that people had been evacuating the island. This naturally led family into a heightened state of worry and we would tell them our plans for weathering the storm. For Peter he had little choice. His job was to be at the Red Cross shelter looking after people who did not feel safe in their own houses. I could have joined him there, but we have two dogs whom we rescued and the shelters don't allow animals in. Although the advice is to leave them in the house with food and water, there was no way I was leaving them in our house on the beach which at the very least may get flooded. So I went to a friend's house (also on the beach but further back than ours) who also has a dog and we were joined by another friend.
We were getting reports now of waves two storeys high from the storm surge in Jamaica. We figured we could go upstairs if it got that bad and go into the bathroom with a mattress over us as they advise you to. By 3pm on the Saturday the pier had already begun to get smashed by the waves and was quickly disappearing, Ivan was still 100 miles away or 12 hours. Peter had been at work since Thursday and was continuously phoning with weather reports and finally said either I must get to the shelter as this was going to hit us hard or get inland away from the coast. Often people decide to weather the storm and see how it goes. If things get bad half way through it is a huge risk to try and relocate during the storm, so all the decisions have to be made prior.
An elderly British couple next door (also with two dogs) were wanting to stay in their own house until their daughter came round and refused to leave without them. Mary Rose did not want to leave her house or her dogs. I remarked that at least she had the choice to be with her daughter, my Mum was 1000's of miles away frantic with worry and didn't have that choice. Then she didn't want to leave us, in times like this the community spirit is strong and people tend to gather together, so we all were invited to their daughters house inland (dogs included) where there could be flooding but where there wouldn't be the pounding of the waves.
That first evening we sat in the garage with 10 dogs playing around us eating the ice cream out of the freezer as by now the power had gone out as the winds began to pick up as the hurricane was coming. Meanwhile Pete and I where texting each other and as he still had power in Georgetown he could get a last minute email out to family to tell them I had moved location with friends and the dogs. After a light snack by candlelight we all laid down for the night. I was on the floor, it was hot but dry and I had my two dogs curled up beside me, both oblivious to the danger that was slowly approaching. Sleep was impossible, the doors would rattle and the whistling of the wind pierced your ears. People describe it as a train approaching. I would liken it the feeling you get when a tube train rumbles and you can feel the pressure build up, only it doesn't stop it only intensifies.
One of the worst things is the lack of communication. Even in this modern age with all our phones and internet tools, with no power and phone lines already down it was hard to get weather reports and stay in touch with Peter. The network was always busy and as the storm intensified we would lose all mobile communication too. Having a small battery powered radio kept us informed until it went off air due to an aerial coming down. We had no way of knowing how close the storm was and when it was likely to start easing up. All we could do was to sit and wait.
By now in the early hours of Sunday morning it was too dangerous to let the dogs out. After being inside all night they were desperate to get out so we all had to put up with the smell of dog pee. Water had begun coming in anyway which meant the floors were wet anyway. Outside the floodwater had begun to rise rapidly and was a couple of feet high and coming in the door. We occupied ourselves with moping up until the water got so high it out attempts were futile. Luckily this safe haven was built with a tiered floor system, the living room being the highest so we began to move furniture in there getting prepared to sit on it to keep out of the floodwater. The water that comes in is not just rainwater. Its is a filthy, smelly mix of everything outside. We were fortunate, some parts of the island had floodwater mixed with a sewers that had burst.
Occasionally we would go to the back of the house and look outside. As a hurricane passes the winds change direction and if it hits you directly (like we thought Ivan was going to) there is even a period of calm, sometimes sunny weather, where you can go outside for 15 minutes or so. The mistake people often make is thinking the storm has passed and this is when fatalities occur. We were anxiously awaiting this calm, at least to let the dogs out, but Ivan had tracked even further south and the winds and rains just got worse. The floodwater was over 4 feet high now and cars were being submerged. One by one we would watch trees being uprooted and huge sections of peoples roofs tumbled by.
The radio had reported that two of the hurricane shelters' roofs had blown off. That left 100's of people with no protection from these immense winds and devastating gusts. I got tears in my eyes when a woman phoned in from her home. She was up to her waist in water with her baby in her arms, her roof had just blown away and she was pleading to God to save her baby. We all felt so helpless, all the man on the radio could do was to advise her to get to the highest point in her house and cover her and her baby with a mattress to protect them from falling debris. He reassured her it would soon be over. In fact, it would be 24 hours before the winds would die down enough to get outside.
When winds get to a certain speed it is physically unsafe for the search and rescue teams to venture outside. They would be risking their own lives rather than saving those of others. We had our own dilemma to face at the house. The neighbours had lost part of their roof and had somehow managed to get into their car (a land rover type, higher than an average car). We had a debate going on, about whether to go out and rescue them. I rationalised with those wanting to go and risk their own lives, one of whom was our best friend Brad (whose wife and 11 week old son had just been evacuated 2 days before). I said if they were floundering outside I would be one of the first to tie a rope round my waist and go to help them, but they were dry and safe in their car. So we monitored their situation every 10 minutes.
Peter had his own set of problems too. The roof at his shelter had started to peel away (these are supposed to be the safest places to be, often housing over 200 people). After moving the 150 people downstairs they were luckily able to tie sections down and although the ceiling had collapsed, they put up tarpaulins to guide the rainwater. An hour later however, floodwater had begun pouring in from outside. The two bodies of water in the north and south of Grand Cayman had met and saltwater continued to rise. Everyone went back upstairs at least the rainwater upstairs was clean. I got a text from him: 'We are flooding badly roof almost off policeman are preaching and women are wailing. How are you? I love you.' I replied: 'Our garage door has just blown off, we are flooding but not too bad. Be strong. I love you too.'
We had been in and out of the garage to watch the neighbours progress, until it flooded, so fortunately no-one was in when the door was sucked off. We heard an almighty crash and looked out to see sheets of the door strewn across the water in their flooded back garden. We could now feel a dramatic drop in pressure in our ears. We all looked up to the ceiling and the fans were bouncing up and down. Fast action from the man of the house saved the roof blowing off. The garage, which was part of the house had lost its ceiling when the wind took the door off causing it to go up into the central roof. This meant the pressure wanted to force it off. He had managed to open the utility door to create a wind tunnel thus stopping the wind getting up into the roof and saving us.
This was probably the scariest moment for us. We had already put the dogs on their leads and got the mattresses ready to get under. I put my belongings back into my dry bag. This included my passport, purse, phone and a pack of chocolate bars! We had lost all communications by now and we would discover later that the gusts of wind had completed destroyed the mobile phone antennas.
We wondered how long this would go on for. It was certainly the longest weekend of my life. The only way we knew the eye of the hurricane must have passed us is that the winds changed direction. They were no less powerful. The gusts actually seemed to be stronger, but it just seemed to go on and on. The flooding seemed to stop rising; in the house the basement absorbed most the floodwater so it never reached the living room. Throughout Sunday evening it continued howling but we all managed to get some sleep.
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