Where shall I begin to attempt to compose any coherent thoughts about this summer and the active El Nino Pacific storms and their impact on Kauai and North Country Farms?!
First came Hurricane Lala. I was on the mainland but certainly still very anxious, concerned and worried. My sons had it handled and the damage for us was not terrible – branch through the roof of the tractor shed and my desktop computer fried in electric surges. Okay. That was of end of August.
Home and two weeks later along saunters Hurricane Lowell. At first, it looked like it would track south of us and head on out west. Then it took the dreaded turn to the northeast as it is moving west and a straight run towards Kauai. Eerily reminiscent of Hurricane Iniki’s track on 9/11/1992, which was an even more catastrophic direct hit on Kauai. With my anxiety at wicked level, we did what we remembered how to do . . . stored water, gassed up our cars, charged our phones, pulled out our candles and lanterns, made sure we had food (not a problem – we are a pantry family), put away outside furniture, took down our greenhouse structure, put all the vegetable seedlings inside the farm shed, and finally, boarded up the windows of the main house and my sons’ homes.
Forecasted as a Category 1, Lowell hit us a Category 3, with microbursts of tornadoes, winds steady over 100 MPH, gusts well over 125.
My whole family hunkered down in my home. Both sons and their families live in bungalows on the farm, not suitable for hurricane impact. After a family dinner, we lost power around dark and the following night of September 7th and into the morning of the 8th, was sheer terror. Certainly for me, who suffers from extreme storm anxiety, but for every one of us it was an awful deeply stressful experience. Listening to the insane ungodly loud wind gusts, feeling them shaking the house and hearing the almost constant cracking and crashing of trees outside was just terrifying .
Just before the sunrise, the wind abated and we ventured outside into a relatively still and clear dawn. The devastation was staggering. The farm was deep in debris and there were hundreds of huge branches down, and several mature fruit trees uprooted or split in half. Hundreds of avocados and citrus littered the ground. Our chickens’ shelter and pen were blown apart, but they the chickens were happily out and munching on the downed fruit. Both sons places had holes torn in their roofs from branches broken off from the trees near them. The farm shed and our guest house were thankfully fine, as was my home. Our beautiful acreage was unrecognizable. It was a sight that made my stomach turn and my heart race.
Power was out and no water also. The adrenaline continued to keep us all going. I have gas stove at my house, so cooking for all eight of us was at least happening. But, we also each had a full refrigerator and freezer of food. Through sheer determination, my youngest son managed to score not one, but two generators for us. One was a true antique left over from Hurricane Iniki that friends had and were not using and needed some crazy fidgeting to get it running and another from friends who were off island and happy to loan it to us. We consolidated our perishables from three households into one fridge and the deep freeze and started the generators humming. That first day we were still in a bit of shock, so after securing our food as best we could, and taking off and restoring the plywood from the windows, we assessed the situation and made a plan to start hauling some of the smaller manageable debris to our green waste pile on the corner of our land and start chain sawing and stacking the next day.
As often happens as a storm moves off, it blocks our trade winds, and the sun shines strong and the air is muggy and still. Day after day we worked together, sweated and groaned together. With no water to shower in after the long workdays, we relished our dear friend and neighbor who insisted we all come and dive in her pool each early evening before the algae caught up with the lack of electricity and filters. That saved our sanity. That and the bizarre fact that we never lost our cell phone coverage. Service was slow and often spotty, but we were able to communicate with our local community and loved ones on the mainland and handle emails and whatnot.
The reality of just how much work there still is to be done on our four acres is truly mind boggling. A dear friend with a giant excavator gave us a day one week after the storm and hauled the hugest tree stumps and branches into another mammoth pile. Not sure what we will do with that. But, that is for another time. As is securing a tree removal company to take down the beautiful Eucalyptus and Mahagony trees that tower over my sons’ homes to ensure their future safety. The Royal and Coconut Palms are skeletons of their former selves, but a wild amount of fronds have been gathered and put into piles to hopefully compost over time. Our market garden took a beating, but we have been tilling and replanting those vegetable starts we secured in the farm shed during the storm.
Water was restored five days after the storm. Until then, the national guard had places to fill containers with potable water. And I am not lying when I say that the return to running water gave a burst to my sagging psyche. At my home, I also have gas water heater, so we not only had showers, but hot ones.
The damage along our two-lane highway on the north shore was astounding. The work of our local utility companies and the folks they brought in from other islands and the mainland was both heroic and epic. Power was restored 13 days after the storm, another moment of sheer joy.
Our undamaged farm stay cottage appropriately suffered several cancellations for September and October. As things are settling down, we anticipate our bookings to return. And we eagerly look forward to welcoming our intrepid travelers to stay with us while they respectfully explore Kauai.
Mostly, I sit here typing on a new lovely computer completely aware of how fortunate we are. We have homes, we will repair the roofs for my sons, albeit without any insurance payout, as the hurricane deductible is astronomical. We are all safe and capable of taking on the months-long task of bringing our farm back into its beautiful thriving state. We can trim existing fruit trees and plant new ones. We can feed and tend to our gardens. Many were not so fortunate in Hurricane Lowell. People lost homes and two people lost their lives. Gratitude is humbling. My emotions are still raw. Gusts of wind unsettle me. Someone reminded me recently when I was upset with myself that I was complaining about our situation when so many were affected more severely that both emotions can be side by side – both gratitude and overwhelm can co-exist. And so, they do for me and my family.
And still our warming Pacific Ocean has more storms spawning and the season isn’t over until the end of November. So, keep us in your positive thoughts while we watch NOAA’s National Hurricane Center’s updates with bated breath and our own prayers and still slowly and steadily continue the shockingly vast amount of clean up and monumental repair process.
