Sandy’s visit continued

Yesterday afternoon, Ambiorix and I went out for a walk in the rain. He was wearing camouflage and had brought two paint ball masks for us.  I was surprised that the police who’d just yellow taped the pier area weren’t more concerned. I guess they know Ambi by now.

We had a great dry off at Captain’s Pizza, one of the only places open.  Ambi came up with a new pizza combo: feta, onions, olives and bacon. ‘Sandy’s Greek’.  We talked with a young submariner and a woman who’s boyfriend is at sea about ideas for a modern sitcom that would take place at the sub base – a cross between McHale’s Navy and Hogan’s Heros. If interested in the option on this, let me know.  Otherwise, I really can’t divulge details.

As the winds increased throughout the afternoon and evening, the condo – especially the corner room, began to rumble and shake as if there were an earthquake. With gusts at 66mph, wind bowed the glass in the windows. A small tree out front – planted less than two years ago – blew over. Otherwise, our neighborhood seems to have been spared tree damage. We lost power for less than a minute. The water level at low tide was at the highest high tide mark. The waves lapped at the edge of the Custom House Pier, the kiss becoming a light slap, but the surge never made it this far up The Thames.

“Blow winds and crack your cheeks!” 

I imagined next hurricane asking Jim Stidfel’s buddy to do his Leer on the stage that remains from a summer of great plays.

There was an empty green city trash barrel catching a breeze down the middle of bank in front of the firehouse, otherwise, not much activity on the streets beyond a few impervious gawkers. There was supposed to be a driving ban and people were encouraged to stay indoors, but the police didn’t seem to be stopping people.

The Mayor and his able aids were Facebooking quite a bit and it felt good to know there were people who knew what they were doing out there.

Bounty, a ship that just left New London last Thursday – sunk off Carolina Coast. Prayers to the crew and their families. 12 rescued, one dead and the Captain still missing.

Our friends in the condo next door wondered if we were hearing the same loud noises they were hearing. We went to their apartment and it sounded like there were giants bowling on the roof. We received word from someone in the complex across the street who was looking down on our place that the ‘roof was coming off’.  Well, just the rubber seal layer.  And air conditioning units were rolling around. What does one do in a circumstance like that?  Eat and drink!  We had a mini hall party.

Seeing that the water at high tide was not coming over the seawall or drowning the piers, I took the lead of the dog and cat and fell asleep, receiving the title of ‘party pooper’ as Tom and the hurricane partiers ventured out into the windy moonlight to check the seawall and play some cards.

This morning, we learned that New Jersey and NYC had some major problems. Subways still not going.  Friends without power and a ‘mess’ in Northern NJ.  So, we got off easy.

There’s traffic going over the Goldstar Bridge again. There are people climbing on our roof and an insurance claim has already been filed. I’d call it a minor disruption here. It could have been a lot worse.

So, how’d you fare?


Sandy visits New London

9:52AM. Greetings from the fourth floor!  As we reach high tide, Chef Gaspar just rode by on his 1950’s bicycle wearing bright blue sneakers, white pants, a sensible european trench coat and an equally sensible hat. Others are out braving the gusts of 30 knots or so and a few cars are drifting through. Police patrol the piers. The swinging railroad bridge is about three feet from being under water. There’s talk of closing the Goldstar Bridge; that’s 95, the main thoroughfare between New York and Boston, possibly shut down.  We told the staff to work from home as able. From our living room, Tom and I have a great view of sky, water and city, can see four American flags not quite horizontal showing winds from the east-northeast. I posit that when the next tide hits, we’ll be seeing the winds coming from the southeast, bringing the water up to past Irene levels. During that wee bit of a mighty storm just over a year ago, the seawall in front of our building held beautifully, even as water leapt in hungry claw-like ways over the bulkhead. OK. I know. That was kind of clumsy. I’ll try better next time. I haven’t heard that creak above the windows before. Tom says he heard it during Irene. Our friend patty has been to everyone’s door to make sure we’re all still staying. The high tide is just gently kissing the lip of the custom house pier. You might not want to sail a sunfish in this wind. No ferries running. Or elves for that matter. The building manager has told us in an email that the sliders should be ok up to 118mph. Shouldn’t be more than 80. Not too worried. Looking forward to a walk in a bit. I think we’ll be disappointed if the building does not become nearly fully surrounded by water at some point. Our cars are parked on a hill across the street. We have our mobile phones charged. The central command station for the city response is in the firehouse across the street and I can see four American flags flying. I hope everyone’s taking precautions to allow them to enjoy the beauty of this encounter.