Scuba Newb versus Irma

originally published September 11, 2017

It's 11:30 ish Sunday night, September 10, 2017. I'm so tired. This week has been madness. Right on the heels of Hurricane Harvey decimating south Texas with insane flooding, Hurricane Irma formed in the Atlantic, quickly growing into a Category 5 monster that would smash long standing meteorological records. There was talk of needing to create a Category 6 for this storm, that is how big and powerful it was.  

September started off simply enough. I was planning a road trip to south Florida to meet up with a group of high school friends, still my nearest and dearest pals. We were gathering to celebrate the Bat Mitzvah of the youngest daughter of one of these friends. The only problem being that my own daughter happens to be 9 months pregnant right now. So I drove three hours away hoping I wouldn't get a frantic phone call to come back. 

While I tried to work in a dive to the popular Blue Heron Bridge site while I was down that way, that didn't happen. What did happen was that my cousin, the retired firefighter/rescue diver, gifted me with a giant dive bag full of his old dive gear. Free stuff! Among the goodies: a Scuba Pro full face mask, dive knife, dive reel, mask/snorkel (always good to have a backup or two), a couple of wetsuits (too small for me - my cousin literally weighs about 100 pounds soaking wet. Pun!), and a big gear bag. 

Also in the mix - an Oceanic side exhaust regulator, the full set. It needs servicing but it works. I've never used this style of reg before so I am eager to test it out. The primary feels okay, but the octo weighs a ton. I really have to clamp down on the mouthpiece to keep it in place due to the weight. Of course, one hopes to not be using their backup reg all that often so, still might be okay. 

But wait, there's more! An aluminum 80, circa 1994. My cousin had stopped using it years ago so it was way past due for a hydro and visual inspection. I popped over to the dive shop to have it checked out. Chris was on his way out, leaving Will to close up, surprising since he is usually in the water. But, thanks to Irma churning our way, classes had been cancelled for the rest of the week. It was Wednesday and she was expected to be on our doorstep by Friday. 

Will gave my new-to-me cylinder a thorough check inside and out, and pronounced it fit for a hydro test. I decided to go with the full O2 clean as well, making my inherited tank suitable for Nitrox. Then we sat down to chat, talking about some upcoming dives of interest and, of course, the latest on Irma. He had a theory, one that bucked the trend illustrated in the mass of spaghetti strings the newscasters were reiterating daily. Will believed the storm would skim underneath the Florida peninsula, cross over the Keys into the Gulf of Mexico, and hit Florida from the west instead of from the east. Right or wrong, she was coming. And coming with 185 mile per hour winds. 

Thursday came...then Friday. Grocery store shelves were emptied and fuel supplies depleted. There wasn't a tarp or generator or sheet of plywood to be found. Schools and businesses closed ahead of the storm. Gridlock reigned on the highways as hundreds of thousands of residents fled the coast and headed north to escape Irma's wrath. I scurried about, prepping both my own and my mother's homes to withstand the coming storm. The only questions: when, and where, would Irma hit? 

On her way to Florida, Irma plowed across tiny islands like Barbuda and Turks and Caicos, flattening buildings, trees, and everything else along her way. Puerto Rico was spared a direct hit as the monster of a storm seemed to set her sights on Cuba instead. 

In the predawn hours of Saturday, I was awakened by an emergency alert on my phone that we were under a hurricane watch. Earlier in the week, we had expected the storm to hit Miami by Friday but Irma had taken a different route, instead skimming across the northern edge of Cuba for hours and hours. Still, the 300 mile wide spiral moved west, failing to make the turn to the north, and to Miami, everyone had been anticipating. The mad scramble was about to begin. 

By Saturday evening it was clear. Irma was going to bypass a direct hit on Miami and impact the Florida Keys instead before making her turn to the North. In other words - she was going to cross the Keys into the Gulf and impact the peninsula on the West Coast... just like Will said. 

I'll be damned. 

Irma finally made her US landfall at just after 9:00 AM at Cudjoe Key. She had dropped to a Cat 4 over Cuba, went back up to a Cat 5 but lost some speed and was back to a Cat 4 before plowing into the Keys. Angling north, she then headed for a second landfall near Marco Island. In Central Florida, we waited. And waited. And waited. I kept a close eye on my South Florida friends and loved ones. Up until late Saturday, my friends, my sister, and many other family members had been under threat of a direct hit of a huge storm. Now, it seemed like I was going to get it worse than they had. Not to mention all the people who had fled the East Coast to the West Coast, only to find themselves having to evacuate a second time as the fickle storm meandered to and fro.

Well, she's finally here. We're having sustained winds of about 50 MPH with massive gusts for about 4 hours now. Wind speeds are expected to reach upwards of 94 MPH as the eyewall moves right over us. Irma will be battering my little house all night and well into Monday morning. I won't be able to get out and assess the damage until tomorrow evening at the earliest. Right now I'm just watching the streetlight outside go off, and on, and off, and on, and off. Tomorrow will tell the tale of Irma's visit to Central Florida. 

Then Jose, another big Cat 4 storm, is hot on her heels. No way, Jose! Take a hike, buddy. Predictions do not have him coming our way but I believe I'll ask Will what he thinks about it.

I'm a little punchy from lack of sleep so this is being published sans proofreading. Post storm updates to follow!