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Oct. 28, 2005 It already seems a long time ago that we made preparations to move our boat to safer ground pending landfall for Hurricane Wilma, but it was a mere week or so ago in reality. As soon as she looked like she might come any place along the Florida coastline we called our Captain and moved her to the Miami River. Here it is normally a safe resting place with storms between category one and three, but time would tell. We tied her off with double lines and fenders and hoped for the best. Many boats in our marina in Coconut Grove said they were going to wait and see before moving so early on. This would later prove to be a BIG mistake. For days we watched as the media drew this story out and she hovered off the coast of the Yucatan as a category five! When she was finally on the move again she was forecast to take a wide swath of Florida as her next possible stop, but the good news was that the weather forecasters thought she would weaken into a category one. Collectively Florida breathed a sigh of relief. Hence, many did not prepare at all or began to prepare too late. A day or two before she was slated to make landfall a couple of our friends whom had been on holiday in New York City needed a safe refuge from this potential threat-the airport in Key West had been closed (that is their home and destination) and many of the residents there were urged to evacuate to safer places. According to the media, some 90% decided to stay because this was the kickoff weekend to their seasonal fete, Fantasy Fest. Merchants were concerned that the tourists would not, or could not, come and they were losing lots of money with storm after storm threatening their island paradise. So they stayed with us aboard our motoryacht. Wilma began to blow water in the river sideways and winds swirled and gusted in excess of 50 miles per hour for about two hours at about midnight on the 23rd. We had short moments of calm and then calamity again. Things banged and smacked around until about 6am when I got up for about the forth time. At this early hour the opposite side of the river was just becoming visible and the winds swept hard tearing five boats from their mooring at their docks. One large trawler rapidly drew down the river and gently came to rest on our opposite shore alongside a smaller lobster boat. Her canvas was in shreads. Lines dangled from her cleats, but she was intact. A few moments later a large sailboat came careening up the river banging into all of the boats on the opposite side from us. She was spun around like a top from the high winds and then swept back into a smaller channel opposite us. She banged into no fewer then five boats causing considerable damage to her and them before being jammed sideways between two other boats. The good news was that she was no longer a threat to the rest of the boats along the river. However, near the 27th Avenue bridge a smaller sailboat broke free and began to move down river, a little Ray Ray was also running down on many other boats between the high winds and current. A 40 foot Chris Craft across the river from us broke free on her stern and the extension on her aft deck was ripped off like a lid from a can. She banged and drifted as long as her other lines held her on tether. The little Sea Ray spun to and fro and finally got her outriggers caught up in a large tree that had fallen with her roots exposed. She was now being forced and pinned onto the brick seawall with her bow caught in the treetop. Finally, her stern was swamped with a giant wave and she began a slow descent. We watched in horror. The winds began anew between 7 and 8am and with such a vengeance that our aft deck cabinet doors were ripped from their hinges. I rushed outside while our friend Joni held the door from breaking allowing me ingress and egress. Our men slept. One of the doors swirled in the air taking flight just as I caught its edge and brought it to rest on the floor. I scrambled on all fours to keep lower then the wind grabbing the doors and securing them in the main salon. Just then, Pat, my other half, woke up and decided to help me secure the large teak table on the aft deck so it would not also take flight and destroy something in its wake. We were both soaked to the bone, but safe. Joni was shaken, but safe too. 9am Vance, Joni's husband wakes up and has a cup of coffee with cream and sugar like it’s any other day of the week. We explain all of the antics he has missed during his restful slumber. He is shocked and asks why we did not awaken him to help. We tell him that there was not time to do so, we had to act quickly. More wind and rain blows and falls. The river looks like the turbulent waters around Cape Horn and we are miles in shore. Our tender sounds as if she might be aloft and her restraints clank on the upper deck. It is way too unsafe to check for sure. By three in the afternoon things have calmed down and we are curious as to how our marina has fared. We venture out in our Land Rover and head south along 27th Avenue toward the Grove. We note that there are many businesses with windows missing and people are struggling to place plywood over the gaping holes to prevent looters from taken their rain soaked merchandise. Street lights and signs are dangling precariously from their poles. There is now power. Other curiousity seekers are doing likewise. Traffic is civilized for the most part. At the corner of US 1 and 27th Avenue police cars stop traffic and prevent us from moving further south along that roadway. We turn right and head south. We take the second or third left to get back into the Grove and are stopped by a large fallen tree and live power lines in a pool of water. Quickly we turn around and find another route toward our marina on Bayshore Drive. The parking lot is eerily vacant. We park where the valet people usually are and begin to see fallen signs, ripped awnings, decks peeled up, seaweed two feet high on top of the walkways, next door in the Biscayne Bay Yacht Clubs yard-which is 200 feet from their docks-rests a 30 foot sailboat on her side in their once lovely lawn. Their docks are in shambles. Huge trees are left uprooted with broken branches and leafless that had just been retied from the last storm. The docks are hardly passable. Debris from boats is littered every where. Cushions and windscreens lie ripped and torn near where docks once were. Fenders and trash lie in the now calm sea. Pieces of boats are barely visible from above-sad reminders of nature's fury. We meet up with some of our former dockmates and kibbutz for a few minutes before moving onward. Everyone is sad and shocked. When we finally make it to our slip we find a large boat from the neighboring t-head sunk in our slip and sliding sideways as the tide rises. A smaller boat along the way is also sunk. Two larger Sea Ray type boats are untethered and lying peacefully against the pilings, but one can see where they tore at their lines and broke free in a fury. Stainless steel railings are torn free from their fiberglass, scrapes and chafes are the rule more than the exception. We toast a glass of rum sans ice with a friend from whose boat was left relatively unscathed and feel a pang of angst and sorrow for those whose losses are great. ------------ About the author: Michelle Malsbury was born and raised in Champaign, Illinois. She attended Parkland College and the University of Illinois before graduating from the University of Phoenix with her degree in Business Management. Currently she is working on her master’s degree in Organizational Management while concurrently pursuing her lofty writing ambitions. Ms. Malsbury moved to south Florida in 1983 and resides between the Keys and Apalachicola, allowing her to experience the seasonal fluctuations between the southernmost and nearly northernmost beauty in the state of Florida. Travels have taken her from Europe through the Caribbean, Central America, Mexico, and across much of the United States. Michelle has been a bartender, real estate agent, flight attendant, beauty contestant, yacht broker, and commodities broker over the years, but writing is her passion. She enjoys outdoor activities like sailing, waterskiing, hiking, bike riding, working out, and fishing as well as reading, music, theatre, playing with her two amusing pets (Abu Chez, her 6 year old Australian Blue Heeler and Zack, her two year old yellow tabby cat) and writing. Michelle is a regular featured author on the web site Useless-Knowledge.com and enjoys exchanging points of view with her comrades there. “Three Years With Adonis” is the first to be published of several books that she has written. In addition to “Three Years With Adonis”, she has authored four other books and three screenplays while continuing to explore all that life hands her. Check out my new web sites. They are; www.3yearswithadonis.com, www.threeyearswithadonis.com, and www.MichelleKayeMalsbury.com. Email Michelle Malsbury: zackywacks@aol.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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