Photo Journal: S.O.S. Stranded in St. Thomas
Hey Lisa, should we be worried that August is hurricane season in St. Thomas?”
Nahwww. Come on, what are the chances?”
Apparently they’re pretty darn high.
Rewind. For 5 sparkling days Izabella and I frolicked along the coast of St. Thomas; swimming, snorkeling, boating, beaching, sunbathing, regaining our general sense of sanity. Woo-sa.
The day before our scheduled departure, the island’s hurricane alert level slowly crept up the storm charts. While normal people rushed to the supermarket to stock up on essentials like flashlights, batteries, food, water — oh you know, general necessities for survival; we stocked up on Twinkies, potato chips and white rum (all arguably as essential). Yup, we had decided that this hurricane wasn’t really happening. So instead of storing bathing water and rationing meals, we ate our precious stock of “food” and prepared to head back to day jobs that awaited with bated breath. And of course, right on time, category 4 Hurricane Earl comes barreling through with 135 mph winds and torrential rain.
With no electricity and running water, we were forced to dust off our wits and tackle the situation head on (move over MacGyver and Bear Grylls). For the next two days, we cooked random frozen meat using propane gas tanks, watched the Fringe on the iPad until it powered down, invented new cocktails with melted ice cream and played poker until we were too tipsy to play our hands out.
And despite the fact that we tried to make the best out of the unexpected and unwelcome visitor Earl, our extra days under house arrest gave us perspective on how much we take our daily conveniences for granted. And how small and powerless we are in the face of Mother Nature.
When the storm finally passed, the sky opened up and showed us a few different hands of its own. And even in our un-showered, stir-crazed state, we watched the morning sunrise in silent awe.