October 1999 Table of Contents

If Hurricane Dennis was The Flight of the Bumblebee , Hurricane Floyd was Ride of the Valkyries . Several authorities said it was the most vicious storm ever to hit The Bahamas. One Marsh Harbour old timer spent the night before the storm talking about the hurricane of 1932. Afterwards, he admitted: "The hurricane of 1932 was nowhere near as bad as Floyd."

On Monday 13th September, Abaconians had hurricane preparations well under way with one eye on The Weather Channel and one ear on ZNS 2. There was extensive last minute buying in Marsh Harbour and virtually all the rules of road traffice sense were ignored as drivers rushed to their appointed purchases. It was like a scene from Neville Shute's On the Beach. The island settlement were filled with the sound of battening up.

The winds were building surely and steadily and by evening an innocent would have known there was mischief afoot. Night came early with dark clouds roiling across a suffocating sky. Electricity went off in Marsh Harbour shortly after two o' clock on Tuesday morning.

By daylight there were hurricane force winds and the trees in the nearby pine forest were twisting and ducking in panic. Throughout the morning, Floyd intensified. Around midday the telephones went out. Several of the temporary family refugees sheltering in my home sat out on the front porch, which had a southern aspect. It provided a grandstand view of the storm. Battery powered radios were tuned into Radio ZNS Freeport on 810AM.

We watched shingles being stripped from a neighbour's roof and then noticed shingles flying over the house from the northern part of our roof. There was much guessing at the speed of the wind, which gradually rose from freight train to wailing banshee to the coming of the end of the world. As the hours passed, it seemed impossible that the wind could get fiercer and faster. The sporadic rain was almost horizontal.

"Another tree down over there," was the sort of laconic comment being made. "I bet that big one goes next." "All your trees down on that side, Jack." Despite the intensity, there were still even greater gusts that literally took your breath away. The wind screamed. Screamed in angry agony. It was vicious, launching itself claws and teeth into all that came in its way. Which was everything.

Then, shortly before three o' clock in the afternoon, the winds abated and slowly braked down to close to calm. This was the eye of the hurricane. Text books tell you that the eye of an average hurricane will take 15-20 minutes to pass. But Floyd was no ordinary storm. Floyd was a super-heavyweight. The eye took over two and a half hours to pass and during that time many Dundas Town, Murphy Town and Marsh Harbour residents took to their vehicles to inspect the damage.

Shortly after 5.30, the southern wall of the storm came in and Floyd went through the gears of gale and hurricane force winds to screeching devastation once again. By this time, the front of the house had been closed and the back door was open to view the storm through the fallen trees. Pines that had survived the north-eastern Floyd succumbed to the south-western Floyd. There was much more rain now but Floyd had smashed the drops into a mist that resembled a blizzard.

By day clean, winds were merely gale force and we could walk around the yard and inspect the dismal damage at close quarters. We felt very sorry for ourselves until we went through the Abaco settlements and saw what Floyd had done to others...