On June 7, The BVI Beacon turned 40. To celebrate, it is re-publishing some of the biggest stories from its archives over the past four decades. The article below was written by Freeman Rogers which originally ran Sept. 30, 2017.
On Sunday morning in Carrot Bay, Albato “Yankee” Francis was sitting on his front porch as he took a break from cleaning his seaside home, which had been gutted by wind and waves during Hurricane Irma.
“The waves them was coming through the windows,” recalled the 90-year-old, who weathered the storm alone in the small wooden house he built with his father in the 1960s. “You couldn’t see Jost Van Dyke. The whole ocean raised, and it was just that sea breaking on top and coming in.”
In a futile attempt to avoid the incoming water, Mr. Francis moved from room to room, eventually hunkering down in the bathroom as his roof began to tear off.
“We heard the warnings; we take caution, but we didn’t think it would have been that serious,” said the senior, who last year was featured in a local magazine as the territory’s oldest taxi driver. “We survive a lot of them already, you know, but this one extra. This one was super.”
The Category Five hurricane — the most powerful storm in Atlantic Basin history, with sustained winds exceeding 185 miles per hour — killed at least five people in the Virgin Islands, lifted off hundreds of roofs, tossed vehicles and yachts like toys, and stripped vegetation from the mountainsides.
And for most residents the struggle is only beginning. From individuals like Mr. Francis to the most senior government leaders, the territory is getting down to the daunting task of recovering from unprecedented devastation.
Survival stories
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Mr. Francis’ survival story is the fact that it is hardly remarkable at all in the wake of what some residents have dubbed “Irma-geddon.”
As the storm battered the territory on Sept. 6, hundreds of people cowered under beds, in closets and in basements as their dwellings succumbed to the storm.
A young mother used her body to help protect her 6-month-old triplets from the elements. Nine family members clung to each other in an East End bathroom to keep from being blown away. A man emptied his refrigerator and climbed inside so he wouldn’t get struck by flying debris.
Ned Phillips, a safari bus driver, was inside his Lower Estate apartment building when the winds blew out his doors.
“Man, it was like a bomb going off,” he said. “That was the most scariest moment of my life.”
Later, he looked out during the eye of the storm to see that he still had a refrigerator and stove even though much of his kitchen — a wooden structure added on to his concrete home — was gone.
“When round two came and the storm came back, it seemed like it was more violent,” he said, “And I actually saw a washing machine go sailing like a piece of paper. And my refrigerator, I see it went flying too.”
Saving a great-aunt
Jamiez Stoutt, a 27-year-old veteran of the United States Army, used his military training to help his grandparents and his great-aunt survive the storm.
“I was watching my neighbour’s roof actually getting lifted off, and in that instant I realised ours more than likely would go next,” he said of their Huntums Ghut home. “I always have my Army boots in the house, so I started putting on my socks; I put on my boots and my work pants — the first pair I could get — and literally as I put it on the roof peeled off.”
Mr. Stoutt carried his great-aunt, who is in her 90s, to the kitchen, where the group took refuge behind a table. Then he noticed that the metal kitchen door was about to give way.
“So I open the fridge now and I basically rip out everything that was in there; fling it out,” he said. “And then I throw the fridge basically slanted by the sink on the ground so they could put their head under it.”
After that arrangement proved unsafe as well, they moved on to his grandfather’s closet, where they huddled together until the eye of the storm. Then, as precious minutes ticked by, he carried his great-aunt and grandmother one by one across rubble to a neighbouring apartment building with his grandfather following close behind.
Along with about 20 other people who had escaped similarly perilous situations, they waited out the second half of the storm there.
“Everybody got a story, so I won’t make it seem like mine’s the worst one,” said the veteran, who served for nearly a year in Afghanistan. “But it was pretty bad, and my grandfather tell me all the time that if I wasn’t there they would’ve died, because they would’ve stayed right in there and everything fall on them.”
Morning after
The morning after the storm, shell shocked survivors emerged to a territory transformed by a disaster that is already drawing comparisons to the 1819 hurricane that took more than 100 lives and decimated the VI’s sugar industry.
As residents wandered among the rubble sharing their stories, a common refrain emerged.
“Thank God for life,” people repeated again and again, shaking their heads as they recalled near misses during the storm.
But relief quickly gave way to fear as the community began to understand the gravity of the situation.
Power and public water were shut off across the territory, and roads were blocked with dangerous piles of telephone poles, galvanised sheeting, vehicles and other debris.
Though a few cell phones could still make international calls, the local phone system was down as residents struggled to confirm that loved ones had survived the storm.
Radio stations had also been knocked off the air, and looters started stealing supplies as well as electronics, jewellery and other items.
Hurricane Jose
In that increasingly desperate atmosphere, another concern loomed large: Hurricane Jose had formed over the Atlantic and it was headed toward the VI. But reliable information on the storm was nearly impossible to come by.
As residents wandered the rubble on the Thursday and Friday after the storm, rumours spread by word of mouth. Some said Jose was a tropical storm that would pass far away from the VI on Saturday; others warned that it was a Category Five that would hit the VI directly by Friday night.
Few buildings were in a position to withstand another major storm, and many residents — some of whom had lost everything to Irma — were running short on water, food, medicine or other supplies.
Mr. Stoutt was among them: He remained in Huntums Ghut struggling to care for his grandparents and his diabetic great-aunt.
“Everything blow out of the house,” he said. “I had her insulin and I kept it cool for two days in a freezer which was basically drying up. I eventually took her to the hospital because Jose was coming and I didn’t have sufficient medical stuff to deal with her.”
At Peebles, however, all the beds were full.
“They wasn’t really giving them food and stuff like that, so even though they were in the hospital lobby, every day breakfast, lunch and dinner I had to take for them,” he said. “They was in the lobby the whole time.”
As this chaotic scene unfolded, VI leaders, first responders and volunteers were struggling to bring the situation under control.
But they faced challenges of their own.
Irma had destroyed the Department of Disaster Management offices in McNamara, forcing members of the National Emergency Operations Centre to evacuate mid-storm to the nearby home of Communications and Works Minister Mark Vanterpool.
“We ran for our lives,” DDM Director Sharleen DaBreo tearfully recounted later in an interview with JTV, adding, “DDM windows started exploding — windows being pulled out of the concrete.”
The territory’s VHF radio network also had been damaged, limiting officials’ ability to communicate with key agencies. The Road Town Fire Station and Police Headquarters were gutted, and fire trucks and police jeeps were among the hundreds of vehicles that were destroyed across the territory.
Still, there were some bright spots. The Peebles Hospital, for example, had weathered the storm with minimal damage, and the NEOC soon relocated there even as the facility was flooded with patients injured in the storm.
From the hospital, leaders began working to restore order and reassure the public. One of the earliest official messages to go out post-Irma included some very welcome news.
“The BVI was under tropical storm watch earlier today due to Hurricane Jose; that watch has now been lifted,” Governor Gus Jaspert told a United Kingdom journalist on Saturday, Sept. 9.
It is unlikely that many residents heard the announcement, but as word trickled through the streets by word of mouth they were jubilant.
Relief arrives
The same day, the governor announced that aid was being provided to Tortola and the sister islands by the Royal Fleet Auxiliary ship Mounts Bay and the United Kingdom Marines.
He added that a 6 p.m.-to-9 a.m. curfew had been implemented and soldiers were helping patrol the territory and search for survivors.
“We are reaching the places that because of the geography of these islands are very difficult to get to,” he said, adding, “The government here is getting back onto its feet in order to get a response and relief going.”
Residents cheered the arrival of military aircraft and waved to soldiers who emerged from them.
“You feel the relief since people see those guys,” said Rotarian Astrid Wenzke, who was volunteering at the hospital. “And I make sure I spread the word.”
Also by this time, many of the main roads had been cleared enough to allow vehicles to pass, and cleaning, securing and rebuilding were under way.
A few supermarkets were open as well, though with limited hours and under armed guard.
Still, many challenges remained. Though relief supplies were arriving, distribution was a struggle for days because of the ongoing communication problems.
At Peebles Hospital, the emergency room was packed with patients, the wait to pick up prescriptions was hours-long, and some medications were unavailable. Nevertheless, hospital staffers — many of whom had been living at the facility because they lost everything in the storm — had been reporting for work to keep operations going.
In the midst of the ongoing turmoil, Premier Dr. Orlando Smith sought to project confidence.
“Whilst the BVI has been severely impacted over the last few days, we will bounce back,” he said on Sept. 10. “We are a proud nation. We may be momentarily down, but we are certainly not out.”
Hurricane Maria
Leaders reiterated such assurances with increasing confidence in the following days, and government ministers scheduled their first post-Irma press conference for Sept. 18.
But their plan to give an update on the recovery effort was trumped by a more urgent announcement: Hurricane Maria, which was then a Category Five storm, was expected to hit the Virgin Islands hard as its eye passed close by.
“Considering that all our vegetation has been removed [by Hurricane Irma], the risk of flash flooding is much, much greater,” DDM Director Sharleen DaBreo warned during the press conference. “The storm is going to be bringing with it high winds, heavy rains and storm surge, so people living in high elevations, low-lying areas or those who are close to ghuts — we are urging you now to consider moving to some area that is much safer.”
Leaders also urged residents to help clean up debris before the storm, and assured them that satellite radios provided by the UK government would help alleviate the communication problems that had followed Irma.
Tensions were high as residents rushed to prepare. In front of the Multi-purpose Sports Complex on Sept. 17, more than 50 people milled around in hopes of obtaining tarpaulins that they had heard were to be handed out to District Five residents.
The next day at the Terrance B. Lettsome International Airport, Jamaicans, Filipinos, Dominican Republicans and others crowded the walkway outside the terminal for much of the day in hopes of evacuating before the storm.
Others were trying to purchase tickets to leave, but with mixed success.
Spared from Maria
Ultimately, the VI was spared the brunt of Hurricane Maria, which brushed the territory on the morning of Sept. 20 as it devastated St. Croix and headed for a catastrophic direct hit on Puerto Rico.
“Our initial rapid assessment has shown that the greatest impact to the territory was from storm surge,” Mr. Jaspert said after the storm. “There is also pooling of water and minimal flooding.”
Though the damage was relatively minor, government extended the curfew another day as the after-effects of the storm lingered, a hurricane warning continued, and crews worked to clean up damage.
Across the territory, residents were relieved that the storm didn’t hit harder at a time when the VI was still reeling from Irma.
“We have to thank God because you have no life lost here,” said Roy Campbell, a Jamaican fashion designer who was staying in the Multi-purpose Sports Complex shelter because Irma ripped the roof off his Huntums Ghut apartment. “We’re here trying to pick up the pieces and see where we can do anything to build up the country.”
Other islands
Nearby islands were not as lucky as the VI. In the United States VI, St. Croix was devastated after a near-direct hit.
“I’d been through a couple category ones, category twos and tropical storms since I’ve been here, but nothing like this,” said Emily Weston, a businesswoman who has lived on the island for 13 years.
As she and her boyfriend took refuge under a piece of plywood in their home, the noise from the wind was ear-splitting, she said.
“It sounded like planes were constantly landing,” she said, explaining that she lives near the island’s airport. “It was a pretty deep noise for hours. I’m very thankful to be on the other side of it now.”
Though Ms. Weston’s house was spared, many other residents lost windows and roofs. She described a scene very similar to this territory’s Irma devastation: Vegetation was stripped of leaves, large trees were uprooted, telephone poles were down, and debris littered the roadways.
St. Thomas, like this territory, was spared the brunt of Maria’s force, but it saw heavy rainfall and flooding that represented a significant setback as the island struggled to recover from Irma.
All of PR loses power
Puerto Rico was also devastated by the storm, whose centre came ashore on the island’s southeast corner, stripping away roofs, flooding low-lying areas, and wreaking havoc in the capital of San Juan.
The official death toll there is currently at 16, but experts say it could climb into the hundreds in the coming days.
Governor Ricardo Rossello told CNN that the electricity likely won’t be restored for months, which means that all of this territory’s closest neighbours will be largely without power for the foreseeable future.
Meanwhile, Maria’s death toll has climbed to 27 in Dominica, which the storm struck before arriving here.
Maria also hit the Turks and Caicos Islands, where it added to the damage wrought there by Irma.
Uncertain future
In the VI, the future remains uncertain for many residents. As of a Sept. 16 DDM report, more than 1,500 people had evacuated, and hundreds more have left since then.
Though government has provided no official estimate, thousands of residents also have lost their homes. Some moved in with friends or relatives, and stories abound of people living as many as 10 to a room in partially destroyed apartment buildings.
An estimated 300 others remain in shelters set up across the territory, where volunteers from the BVI Red Cross and the Rotary clubs have been delivering food, water and other items.
In spite of the challenges, most residents are picking up the pieces and doing their best to get back on their feet.
Take Mr. Francis, the Carrot Bay 90-year-old. After resting a few minutes on his porch on Sunday, he picked up a shovel and a bucket and continued cleaning debris off of his floor.
“I’m going to patch it,” he said of his uninsured home, adding that soldiers had stopped by and promised to put on a tarpaulin roof. “I gonna live here until — I hope — the last breath I draw.”
