A 3:40am hotel-wide alarm yesterday really gave us a jump start on our planned-for 4:15am wake up. Rather than sit and listen to the repeating loop of the alarm’s ‘keep calm and wait for us to figure it out’ message blaring from all of the speakers in our room, we packed up and left. In an effort to use the elevator before they potentially shut it down (too many bags for too many stairs!), we hauled out with our cart piled high with gear, scaring a few of our neighbors who had their heads stuck into the hallway searching for answers. They seemed to have thought that we’d gotten an evacuation notice that had passed them over. “We have a flight!” I told a few who looked truly panicked. And the kicker? Our wing of the hotel was actually smoky, so… hopefully that all worked itself out. The nice alarm bot lady surely had a plan.
Despite our very early arrival to the airport and the high winds making for some snappy landings, our travel day was a success. Tears welled in our eyes as we descended on Marsh Harbour- nothing green, and the landscape a barren expanse of casuarina tree trunks all around. Driving toward ‘town’ (I’m not sure it can be called that anymore), it went from sad to horrifying. Massive buildings chewed apart leaving twisted metal hanging from rafters, scraps of metal, wood and glass everywhere, cars and boats upside down in alien places, and then blank spaces where bulldozing had cleared away remains. Our driver pointed out one of the shanty towns that was devastated, and indeed it was- completely gone. Not a house left, and they were working to clear away the last of the rubble, since that was where most of the human remains were found, and the hope was to find answers on those still missing.
After that short drive I walked into the bright lights of Maxwell’s simply stunned to find people laughing and connecting and carrying on, as we all tend to do in supermarkets. They’re putting one foot in front of the other day by day, and while I suppose I’d have been doing the same in their position, I was still so shocked from the drive in, that their normalcy overwhelmed me even more. I realized then and there that I’d best harden my resolve for a few weeks of emotional turbulence.
Ferrying into Green Turtle showed a different story from the first glimpse: green! The mangroves are all still denuded, but there were some palm fronds intact, some shrubs bouncing back, and simply a lot less damage. It surely doesn’t look like the Green Turtle we once knew – buildings are gone, homes are damaged, construction is underway in some capacity or another just about everywhere… it’s not a great scene. However it feels hopeful here, and this tight-knit community seems to be banded together even more than ever. We also saw Samaritan’s Purse workers, Water Mission volunteers, and construction workers who are coming to the islands in droves to donate their time; inch by inch.
And… Chickadee. We threw our bags into our rental and raced to the yard before it closed. The ups! The downs! Starting so soon! First of all, we were glad that the pictures that were shared by others were pretty complete in their assessment; no major surprises. (A minor surprise was our ganked bow pulpit that’ll need some work..) Down below was a junked-up mess since everything had taken a spill on the fall, and then slid back around on the upright, but no mildew, and nothing too crazy (it looks better than it did in Indiantown, strangely enough!). One issue is that our batteries are completely dead, and likely gonzo. We were hoping to coax them along for this year (we’ve needed to replace them, but the shipping situation is a bit rough), but it looks like we’ll need to make that a priority. Living aboard (the plan was to move aboard after our three day rental) will be tricky without water. Not impossible though! We’ll see how motivated we get by the rental prices ashore.
More ups and downs of travel and the usual adjustments we individually need to make each time we shift worlds. Moods from exhaustion, change, the unknowns, and the excitement of adventure have us all banging together as we work out the kinks. As usual, my own comfort comes from making spaces as cozy, clean and homey as possible, so despite the grumps at the dinner table last night, just making a meal and organizing our bags and space is clearing a path.
We’ve breakfasted and tidied, the girls have done the wee-est bit of schooling, we’ve separated bags to slowly filter things back aboard, and we’re now off for a day of cleaning below and grinding fiberglass. ‘Yay!’