“The view that opened up before our eyes, made us hold our breath in bewilderment. It was like being in a war zone. Smell of decay, of destruction. Everything around was gray – mangroves lost all the leaves. No civilians in sight – only military trucks, soldiers, firefighters and police….” – Hurricane Irma Diaries
A story about being in the Marathon, Florida Keys, with our boat when Hurricane Irma hit – preparation and evacuation – the eyewall goes through Marathon – the Keys are closed! – new satellite imagery – coming back – first impressions – a different world after Hurricane Irma – looking for our boat – Elysia after Irma – times of recovery.
Today marks one year since I (and possibly Michael, as well) have experienced the biggest natural disaster in my life – Hurricane Irma. I remember saying “Oh, I’ve lived in Florida for many years, but I’ve never seen a hurricane”. In 2016 came Matthew and I thought “Well, I have seen one!” I knew nothing.
Preparation and Evacuation
We were somewhere around Miami with our boat Elysia, when we started to get the first alarms about the dangerous development in the Atlantic. The behavior at that point was supposed to be usual: just as many hurricanes before, Irma would be sucked north by the Gulf Stream and proceed up the Florida East Coast.
We naturally decided that the best course of action would be to go west. We kind of wanted to go west anyway: our final destination was Boot Key Harbor in Marathon Key. The plan was to stay there until November-December and sail to the Bahamas.
So, this is exactly what we did. As we were sailing farther west, arriving to the Harbor on August 31st, the disturbing news began to appear on our Internet screens – the hurricane grew so big, it was rolling like a freight train, and even the Gulf Stream force couldn’t affect it – it was set well on its track – through the Keys.
There was literally nowhere to run. Marinas were not safe; besides, no one accepted any new boats. Yards were full. To try to run to Cuba or Mexico (some boats did so well in advance, and it worked) was too late – we were in danger of being caught at sea, or so we thought.
All the canals and good mangrove spots were already taken, and some spaces where we could fit were not deep enough. Looking back, I realize that we should have stayed persistent in finding a mangrove hideaway, but at that moment we didn’t even have a portable depth finder to scout the canals before trying to get in there and run the boat aground.
We did the best we could – set up six thick lines on a mooring ball, took all the canvas down, including all the sails, put everything from the deck inside and hung all the available fenders around the boat. We had a rental car reserved, and on Wednesday Michael’s inner voice told him to call and check on the reservation. “Oh, we are closing in half an hour and won’t be open until next week”, – said the girl.- “ you know, hurricane…”. Whaaat?
We immediately dropped everything and ran ashore. None of the taxi companies were available anymore. The whole island was getting deader and deader by the minute. Well, we did the only thing left in this situation – ran to the road and raised our thumbs. Luckily, a car stopped almost right away. A young woman and her dog were evacuating and since the rental company was on the way, she gladly gave us a lift. We rushed into the door five minutes before closing.
On Thursday we packed and left the boat with a heavy heart. As a good-bye, Michael patted her on a side and said “Hold on, Elysia…” We had no way to take the dinghy with us, so we tied it up to the dinghy dock, but took our small outboard motor with us in the trunk of the car.
Irma hit on Sunday, September 10th as a category 4 hurricane, with the Eastern Eyewall passing directly over the middle Keys.
The Keys Are Closed!
Little did we know, but coming back would not be possible for another week – the devastation was so huge that the authorities closed the islands until they had at least cleared the highway and restored some running water and sewer lines. In the meantime, we started to receive news from those who stayed. Random pictures at first. Then people started making lists of lost vessels and slowly identified them one by one from the wreckage.
NOAA made the whole new satellite imagery where people could see their houses and their boats. Out of over 250 boats on mooring balls about 50 were left – all the others were either sunk, or scattered among the mangroves, or piled on top of one another under the bridge. Our mooring ball was empty. Photo search brought nothing. Elysia was nowhere to be found.
Going Back
A week later the middle Keys were finally opened for residents and we, equipped by all our boat documents, drove through the police block post in Florida City. We didn’t know what we were going to find. We didn’t know if we had a place to sleep.
The First Impressions
The view that opened up before our eyes, made us hold our breath in bewilderment. It was like being in the news about Iraq, or some other war zone. Or worse, because there was also smell. Smell of decay, of destruction. Everything around was gray. Mangroves lost all the leaves, and their dead black branches reached into the sky like some spooky horror forest. No civilians in sight, only military trucks, soldiers, firefighters and police. On the sides of the roads: broken boats, car skeletons, chunks of furniture, walls, roofs, even complete sheds and mobile homes upside down in ruins. Scattered pieces of people’s lives…
Finally we arrived in Marathon. First of all, we checked on our dinghy. It was smashed beyond recognition by one of the big boats which were piled up on top of the dinghy docks.
Looking For Our Boat
While we were thinking what to do next, one of the Harbor locals, Alex, came up to the dock in his Boston Whaler. “Let’s go find your boat”, – he said. – “Hop in”. With our hearts stopping, we rode from canal to canal. I couldn’t breathe, inspecting masts and transoms, sticking out of the water, and then, like in a movie, we make a turn and see the familiar radar mast. Oh my God!!! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Is it really OUR radar mast? Come on, who else has such a thing? Elysia was sitting next to a dock, like she was meant to be there. Like she was saying “Hey, where have you been?” We both cried with joy.
Apparently, she got stuck with her keel in the dock lines of other boats, which were tied up in the canal. The other boats were undamaged, Elysia managed to avoid hitting them. This is why we didn’t recognize her from the NOAA images. She was so naturally sitting along the dock, that we thought it was someone else’s boat. How did she end up in that canal and didn’t touch anything? You actually start believing boats have souls.
Elysia After the Hurricane Irma
Elysia was in shambles, but floating and appeared to have no water damage. Most of the stanchions were gone, and so were the bow pulpit and the anchor roller. The wind generator mast was broken and the bimini poles all twisted. The hulls were severely scratched. It looked like she took a bad beating from some other loose boats in the Harbor. Two of the fenders were damaged – they did their job and possibly saved Elysia from getting a hole and sinking.
Everything inside was a mess, thrown all over the place. A window was broken and some rain water and a bunch of mangrove leaves and little branches covered the salon, creating an unpleasant musty smell. It started to get dark and we needed to think what to do. There was a dusk-to-dawn curfew to prevent looting. So we went to a shelter at a nearby school for the night and in the morning came back to clean the boat and meet our new neighbors – the owners of the house. “Sorry, we know we are kind of uninvited guests, but please, bear with us!!” Boat US was too busy and said it was going to be at least a week before they could get to us. We couldn’t put the boat in gear. Later we discovered that the shaft was bent.
By the evening the interior looked a lot better. Michael suggested we go to the shelter again, but I wanted to stay home. Yes, it is our home! If I have to bribe Michael, I know what to do! We had a canned dinner that night, but there sure was a bottle of a good wine on the table! In the morning we heard someone knock. Michael stuck his head out of the hatch and there was our neighbor with an electrical cord in his hand. “Want some shore power?” Life improved by the minute.
Times Of Recovery
From there on, things became better and better. I have to give special thanks to Salvation Army and Red Cross. All over the place, there were trucks and tents, offering ice, water, cleaning supplies, canned food, all for free. Every evening the conversation went somewhat like this: “Where do you want to go for dinner tonight? Red Cross or Salvation Army”? Both served hot meals. There was no shortage of anything. Stranger helped stranger, all the people of the Keys united in their effort to recover. The camaraderie was outstanding.
Little by little, the noise of running generators subsided as more and more households got their power back. Soon a couple of restaurants finally opened, with just a couple of items for cash. Overseas Pub offered wings and burgers, and they tasted so good! Lobster and Steak House started selling a gigantic “Screw Irma” sushi roll. We couldn’t help but have it for dinner one night!
In about 10 days Boat US finally came through and towed us back to the mooring ball. A lot of Boot Key Harbor residents were not that lucky. Two barges worked non-stop for three months to remove the dead boats from the Harbor. Looking at that, I couldn’t hold back tears…
The repairs took long 10 months: 6 months in the Harbor and 4 in the yard. We had a handsome insurance budget, so we were not complaining! We were actually happy that Elysia was getting new parts and equipment. We even painted the hull with Awlgrip, making that boat even more beautiful! Today Elysia looks and sails better than ever. Irma became a memory and a topic for conversations and adventure stories. But still, people from Boot Key Harbor will always have a special place in my heart – our “survivor” family, like a Phoenix, emerging from ruins back to life.
According to the Coast Guard count from December 2017, 2069 boats were destroyed in Florida waters due to Hurricane Irma. Of those, over 1500 came from Florida Keys. Many of our friends have lost their boats, many are still in the process of repairing them.
