Bob and Earl, the Cape Cod Blowhards

Unlike the thunderstorms that roar through upstate New York, the ones that warn of their approach with a growl and flash from the western sky and hurry past before the dog goes into full cardiac arrest under the bed, a hurricane goes on and on for hours.  I’ve experienced two of them, and at my little house on Cape Cod where renting families have been in charge all summer, the reports of a weakened Hurricane Earl are encouraging.  A decrepit beach plum tree split in half on the front lawn and the roses lost some of their leaves, that’s all.

In 1991 my three little children, their dad and our German Au Pair Jana were vacationing in Chatham on Cape Cod when Hurricane Bob blew through.  With plenty of warning we stocked up on food, gassed up the car and because a representative from the town went door to door on our street and we learned we were in a secondary flood plain, not a primary flood plain, we were allowed to ride out the storm in the house, but Steve and I faced the car toward the street just in case we had to bolt in an instant if the ocean surged toward the house.

Waiting for Hurricane Bob, Chatham, Mass. 1991

We were renting someone else’s home back then.  I recall the homeowners calling from some distant place to request we bring in the outdoor furniture.  We had been glued to the TV in anticipation of the big event and had already secured the property as if it were our own.  Windows closed, drapes drawn, we were ready for Bob.

Salt spray creates a blizzard effect

It’s a creepy feeling waiting for a hurricane to hit.  You see the first signs in the tips of the trees which sway wildly while brush on the ground stays still.  But it picks up.  And eventually everything is bending and twisting hard.

The car faces outward for a hasty retreat if necessary

As a television news anchor in Syracuse, I was mesmerized by the coverage in Boston.  Their resources were deep and I was ready to enjoy the show from the easy chair, until the utility cut power to the entire Cape early to prevent electrocution from downed, live wires.  Drats.  Before the lights went out we learned the only two bridges which allow access to the mainland were closed when winds reached 70 miles per hour.   Suddenly, making a run to my folk’s home in Worcester was out of the question.  We would see this thing through till the end.

Oceanfront homes suffer damage

Bob begins to depart

Over several hours, conditions steadily deteriorated.  It looked more like a blizzard than a tropical rain.  Salt was lifting off the sea and spraying horizontally making a greasy mess of the windows.  This made it difficult to see water  breaching the dune and flooding the marsh in front of our house.

Standing up to 50 mph winds after Bob

With no power and no TV or radio to provide normalcy we had only the sound of the relentless and roaring wind, sustained at 90 mph for several hours.  Low-grade hurricanes cause damage by wearing down  resistance of trees, of siding, of nails and of people.  A single gust at 90 mph inflictts damage for sure, but several hours of it, and stuff just gives up.

When we heard the shingles tearing off of the roof, Steve and I brought the children to the dingey lower level for added protection.  By then it was getting boring and I was yearning for something to happen, either better or worse.  The sideways white rain, the constant wind; after 8 hours of the same thing, we were so over this thing.

And then it slowed.  Funny thing about a hurricane.  Even as the skies lift a little and the rain stops, the winds persist.  With gusts down to a reported 50 mph, Jana and I walked the little road to the beach to survey the damage.  Other cabin fever victims came out too, to find the heavy wooden lifeguard stand floating 1,000 yards inland inside the marsh.  Waterfront cottages were pockmarked with holes.

Hurricane Bob did 3 billion dollars of damage to the Cape and the Islands.  Within days all the trees lost their leaves to salt damage and it looked like November in August.  Doctors offices were invaded with people suffering bee sting reactions.  Underground wasp nests were flooded and the bees were mad and taking it out on tourists.  Boats were lifted by the storm surge and deposited onto roads and in parking lots.

Boats get blown ashore in Harwich

Without power for a full week afterward it was a challenge to continue with our family vacation, but we did it, and now with Tropical Storm Earl on the way to Canada, the old scrapbook is out as we remember the last big bruiser to hit the Cape.

Tagged as: Cape Cod, Hurricane