[HurricaneJosh]

Howdy, y’all! As it turns out, the Chetumal airport was still closed today and I'm stuck here with almost nothing to do until at least tomorrow. It’s a mixed blessing, as it means I had time on my hands to get caught up with my blog here. (We have electricity again in downtown Chetumal. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- ) So I thought I’d close the loop Re: what happened here during Dean’s passage.

This is kind of long, but I wanted to get all the details down. To make it easier to get through, I divided it into sections. Here goes:

First Off: Thank You -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-
First off, I again want to thank everybody for living and breathing this chase with me. It was very cool—and kind of empowering—to feel so completely and emotionally connected with everyone here while on the road in an exotic, foreign land. The help you guys gave—everything from data, imagery, meteorological analysis, commentary, hotel recommendations, geographical info, and just-plain moral support—was such a big part of this experience for me. It just wouldn’t have been the same without you guys. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

There are too many people to thank individually, but I will say I feel I’ve made some new friends. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

I hope that future chases can be the same way—with Eastern serving as the virtual operations headquarters. I felt I could quickly pop onto this thread at anytime during my chase to get relevant commentary and data, and this in turn helped me make fast decisions. It’s a cool model for future chases.

Re: the chase…

Dean’s Assault on Chetumal
One of the strangest things about Dean was the tightness of the wind field. Damaging winds did not extend very far from the center.

That was my first significant observation of the cyclone as it approached Chetumal Monday night—that there was so little to observe even when the center was only 6 hours from landfall and ~150 mi from the city. Up to that point, we’d been in a dead, sticky calm. I had trouble believing that a severe, deepening cyclone was just offshore.

The first drizzle started at ~9:45 pm CDT, and a breeze kicked up with it—but it was really nothing much. Between 11:20 pm and 12:25 am CDT, there was no rain at all—just a stiffening breeze under fast-moving clouds.

Teasing
The first real rainband—with heavy rain and strong winds—didn’t pass over downtown until half past midnight. It was sometime around 1 am CDT—with the center only 100 mi E of Chetumal—that the wind developed an ominous tug. Trees were in constant motion and the flags atop the building across the street were fully extended and the masts seemed ready to break off.

At 1:40 am CDT another lull started and the rain stopped for the better part of an hour.

These fluctuations in wind and precip patterns are typical of the outer rainbands of a ‘cane—it’s never a steady buildup.

Hitting
The storm started to blast downtown Chetumal for real at ~2:30 am CDT, with heavy rain and frequent gusts to gale force. At this time, the center was only ~75 mi from the city.

Conditions rapidly deteriorated. The power went out at 3 am CDT. The hotel plunged into a thick darkness that heightened my awareness of the wind’s sound—a steady moaning noise with lots of clanking sounds.

The wind increased in violence and was soon making an intense, constant howling sound that you could hear from everywhere in the building. A large tree in front of the hotel went down, and the flags atop the building across the street were tearing off. I kept hearing the “airplane sound” that you hear in major hurricanes just before severe gusts.

The hotel receptionist and I were watching from the front entrance when a large window smashed and glass came raining down all over the sidewalk.

We retreated inside. In the lobby, a group sat stoically in a circle, near a single candle, next to boarded up windows. I wandered the halls of the huge hotel, using my mobile phone and camcorder for light. The rest of the building was pitch black except for ghostly pools of light where guests calmly walked the halls in small groups holding candles or flashlights.

The wind continued to increase. The sound was awful—very unnatural—and it got more ferocious on the upper floors. Above the howl I could hear a wailing—almost human sounding—and above that a shrill whistling made by the wind ripping through small spaces between the window panes. There were occasional loud thuds or crashing sounds from things hitting the outside of the building.

The windows that weren’t boarded were pulsing constantly, allowing rain to get in and flood the hallways. I hustled quickly past them whenever I needed to get by, expecting them to break any time. On the top floor, the lights in the suspension ceiling were bobbing up and down—like a psychedelic funhouse—and I wondered if that meant the roof was coming off.

Peaking
It was around 5:15 am CDT that the storm seemed to hit a peak that lasted until maybe 6:45 am—and it’s interesting to note in retrospect that the center was making its closest approach to downtown Chetumal at this time. The heaviest rain and some of the highest gusts happened then, with the wind rapidly shifting direction.

The peak gusts had a particular roar to them—an angry quality. I watched a large palm get yanked to the ground—one of the last remaining trees in front of the hotel. A deciduous tree next to the hotel—constantly bent at 45 degrees and waving madly—had by this time lost most of its foliage, so that the wind ripped through its branches unimpeded.

Dawn revealed a wild spectacle—complete urban pandemonium. Dynamite gusts blasted the spent shells of ragged trees. Clanking and smashing sounds cut through the wind’s shriek as windows broke and building wreckage fell onto the sidewalk. The street flooded and dirty water overflowed into the hotel lobby. Debris—including a huge water tank that had fallen from the hotel roof—floated down the street.

Easing
It was around 7 am CDT that it all seemed less menacing. The wind was still ripping good, but it was light out, everyone was up and about, and we all knew it would get no worse. I’m not sure the wind was even easing up at this point—it might have been psychological. It might be that I was simply numb to it after so many hours. But the adrenaline of days and days of anticipation was wearing off and I was just spent—like coming down from an intense drug.

I went to my room—soaked through and exhausted. I undressed, dried off as best I could, and crawled into bed—with harsh winds still howling and banging outside.

After
I woke up late in the morning. It was cloudy and a bit breezy. The storm had passed. I threw on some clothes and walked around the city.

Our street—Avenida Lazaro Cardenas—had taken a beating. Most of the trees along the traffic island in the middle had been blown down. A bank right across the street had been completely trashed—every window had blown out and many of the window panes torn off. The ceilings inside had collapsed and the sidewalk and street were covered with broken glass and twisted window panes. Another hotel next door had lost most of the letters on its sign as well as some roofing. My hotel—which had been mostly boarded up—got through the best, with just a couple of broken windows, a fallen water tank, and a flooded lobby and hallways.

The rest of the downtown area was a tremendous mess. Every street was blocked by large uprooted trees, felled signs and street lamps, building wreckage, and flood waters. The grounds of the Museo De La Cultura Maya were particularly hard hit. In an awesome display, every single tree on the grounds—large and small—was felled. The blowdown in this part of the city was so spectacular it made me wonder if perhaps a localized disturbance or eddy passed through the area.

All over the city, deciduous trees that had withstood the winds had been largely defoliated so they had a burnt, wintry look. Tree blowdown was even worse down near the bay, with promenades almost buried in fallen vegetation.

While storm surge flooded the waterfront areas, it seems the massive inundation we’d feared never materialized—not surprising, since the eye passed to our N and the flow was offshore.

I did not see the airport until this morning, and it took a good beating. Hangars had lost parts of roofs and walls, with the wreckage scattered around the adjacent fields. Near the main terminal building, signs had been bent and lots of trees felled. I saw aluminum roofing wrapped around a truck.

But, in the end, Chetumal was lucky. The city was smashed up but not devastated. There were very few building failures. My estimate, based on the damage I saw, was that sustained winds in the city reached ~85 kt, with much higher gusts—Cat 2. (Please note that my estimates are based on Saffir-Simpson scale descriptions and tend to be very conservative compared with other chasers.)

The city’s response was efficient. Soldiers and police were quickly stationed at main intersections, and city workers worked quickly to clear blocked streets. And the residents took it all in stride. The mood in the city was relaxed and mellow as people cleaned up.

Note: I'll post damage photos this evening or tomorrow—I need to go through them all. Ugh. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

Hunt for Food
Almost all restaurants were closed—a bummer because I was craving a hot meal. I’d been subsisting on multigrain bars and sugar corn pops for the last 36 hours and couldn’t do it anymore—I needed real food.

A grocery store that had lost much of its roof was open for business, and I bought some canned tuna and vegetables which I planned to eat cold. It was a dismal prospect but I’m used to this sort of thing after a big ‘cane.

Imagine my delight when I came across an open hamburger stand. The front door was smashed but they were running on a generator. I waited on line for about a half hour, watching through the window like a hungry dog while two chicks wearing hairnets slaved over a hot grill cranking out elaborate hamburguesas con todo. Do you know what butter melting on a grill smells like to someone who hasn’t had a hot meal in three days? -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- Needless to say, it was the best burger I’d had in a very long time. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

I made my way back to the hotel after dark—having trouble seeing where I was going because of the blackout—and, after chatting in the dark on the telephone with my friend, Keith (who posted on my behalf during the storm), I went to bed. There was nothing else to do.

Additional Comments
OK, that’s the account. Following are some additional comments which I’ve put at the end, for those that are especially interested:

Unique Dread
I will fully admit that this one freaked me out. There—I said it.

I’ve been chasing for years, and this was the first time I got spooked waiting for the storm to come in. I’ve experienced fear during chases in the past—most recently when I was surrounded by storm surge during Wilma in Florida—but never beforehand.

During Wilma’s approach to Florida, for example, I couldn’t have been more delighted when it started strengthening. I couldn’t wait for it to arrive—like a child waiting for Christmas presents. But Wilma was minor-league chasing.

Dean was the big leagues—an industrial-strength, deep-tropical bomb. And I wasn’t in Florida this time—I was in a provincial jungle city from another era, in a developing nation, without many sturdy buildings.

So, I had a very special feeling of dread during the final hours as it approached Chetumal—like, “OMG get me the f*ck out of here!” -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- The lowering pressure, tightening eyewall, spectacular satellite presentation, due-W heading, and unique vulnerability of Chetumal... All conspired to make me feel like I was looking over the edge of a cliff. And I didn’t mention to y’all that, during my "stress-reducing" run down to the shoreline that evening, I discovered that the hotel was not as high above the bay as I’d thought. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

Just a few hours before landfall, it got to the point where I almost couldn’t look at the satellite imagery—it looked too good and was freaking me out. I think what sent me over the edge was when someone—I forgot who—described Chetumal as the next Atlantis. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

So this was a unique experience for me—to feel dread at something that I normally think is so beautiful. A beautiful satellite presentation didn’t look beautiful—it looked f*ckin’ scary. I’ve never before felt that about a hurricane. I’ll never forget that feeling.

Chetumal’s Near Miss
Quintana Roo’s capital city was hammered very hard and it’s a tremendous mess. In the downtown area immediately following the storm, every street was blocked by fallen trees, pieces of buildings, fallen signs, and water. Broken glass and wires littered the sidewalks.

But in the end, Chetumal got off easy.

As y’all know, the city was on the edge of the storm’s core. While the S edge of the eyewall’s backside apparently nicked the city, we didn’t get the worst of it.

Chetumal is still here—a smashed-up mess, but very much OK.

It’s a testament to Dean’s ferocity that this city of 140,000 was so banged up by just a glancing blow.

What if…?
I’m still wondering what would have happened to Chetumal—in terms of both wind and storm surge—if the center had jogged a little WSW—not WNW—just before landfall. Comparisons with Atlantis might have panned out.

Wow.

Heartbreak: Mission Unaccomplished
I’m a tad heartbroken to have been so close but not squarely in the eyewall of a legendary ‘cane like Dean—one of the all-time most-intense Atlantic landfalls. So, from that perspective, my Dean chase is “mission unaccomplished”. <sigh>

But I have zero regrets.

Given the intensity of the storm and the exposed flimsiness of the towns along the Yucatan coast, I did the best I could with the available options. I’m as hardcore as they come, but I’m not suicidal—and I stand by my decision to ride out the storm in Chetumal. If I could do it again, I would do the same.

Obligatory Public Service Statement
To the young ones who feel I should have gone further N or ridden this out in Mahahual:

It’s not wise to ride out the inner core of a Cat 5 in a hut with a thatched roof, a Third World shantytown, or a beachside resort. Just because it’s a named dot on the map does not mean it has the things we assume towns have—steel-reinforced concrete structures, Internet, mobile coverage, or a police force.

I trust if one of y’all had been chasing with me—especially those of you who’ve experienced major hurricanes before—you would have agreed with my decision and would have been happy to stay in Chetumal. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

Please remember this when y’all come of age and go on your own chases. Don’t do stupid things. You’ll get killed. (Going to Chetumal was stupid enough—OK? -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- )

Footage
Dean was one of the better ‘canes I’ve been in, but the nighttime strike very-much limited the opportunities for good footage. This was frustrating, because a lot of what I saw at night was very dramatic, but the camera couldn’t pick up all the cool details in the darkness.

Fortunately, the storm was still going strong at dawn, so I got some daylight footage. How much, exactly, is not clear, as the rain damaged my equipment and I’m not sure if the tapes were damaged as well. (I have to get a new video camera, by the way. I should have listened to you, Beau, Re: the baggies.)

I’m going to get together with my editor within the next couple of weeks and hopefully I’ll have a nice video presentation completed within the month. (I’m really into editing—I never like to show raw footage—thus my video product usually takes longer than other chasers.)

Remainder of the Season
Turtlehurricane asked me yesterday if that’s it for me this season. The answer is no—definitely not. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- Like a true addict, my passion for hurricanes remains strong—in fact, it’s even stronger now.

The stomach-turning fear I had just 36 hours ago has morphed into a harsh craving for my next fix. Hurricanes are my drug and I can’t get enough.

Should another big one threaten the USA or Mexico next week, I’ll jump on it.

[winterymix]

Nice report, Josh.
You will have others that want to share the next ones with you.
Any comments on changes in the smell of the airmass, changes in dogs, cats, birds
and comments on the changes in the way you felt with rapidly dropping pressure?
Did you see weird life and objects washed up from the sea onto the land?
When the pressure came back up, did you feel different?

[MallowTheCloud]

Josh...

-IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

[Solak]

What a fantastic and descriptive read, Josh! Excellent coverage. Having most recently been through Isabel when living in Nags Head, (also a nighttime hurricane) sure brought back a lot of memories.

If you remember, on your flight out of Chetamul, if possible, try to get some arial photos.

Looking forward to the photos. Great summary and account, Josh!

[GO-nad]

Good man Josh. Can't exactly say I am jealous, and glad you are here.

[ShannonW]

Josh, You're a good writer. I read each word with anticipation of the next. Have you ever, or have you ever thought of, writing an article (science + pics + human interest) and submitting it to a met journal, or Scientific American, etc?

[DoctorHurricane2...]

Amazing Josh, glad to see you made it out. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

[viking70]

Great write-up Josh. Really got the feel of it. Good luck getting back home. I look forward to the pictures.

[Ian]

Josh,

I think you probably now have more friends on Eastern than anyone else after just a few days... people throughout the internet were following your story and wishing you well.

Someone mentioned that you should write a book about your experiences chasing, and I hope that you do and when you do you can come back to this thread for ideas.

You say this is a mission unaccomplished. I think you are being too hard on yourself, and when you get home and are rested you will probably see this in another light. Some here and there called you 'insane' and had come to the conclusion that when you were eventually injured or taken advantage of you could blame no one other than yourself. You showed just how something like this is done the right way. The fact that you didn't find yourself in the core winds does not make your wise decision-making anything less than what it would have been if you got into cat 5 sustained wind. I strongly believe you would have been fine even in worse conditions.... the building you chose was solid. No one here would have gone to Mahahual or wherever ended up getting the 'worst' wind/surge. If they were that stupid we'd likely never get to hear of their interesting tale either way so it would be much more 'mission unaccomplished' in that event.

Looking forward to whatever images you have to share, hope things are all salvageable. I am sure there will be something else big out there to chase in the coming weeks so you better rest up when you get home.

[Ian]

maybe if you read the quote you would understand,

I'm in on the LES chase this yr. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

[Clark]

Great read, Josh, and the least surprising statement in your entire account was this one:

Turtlehurricane asked me yesterday if that’s it for me this season. The answer is no—definitely not. smile.gif Like a true addict, my passion for hurricanes remains strong—in fact, it’s even stronger now.

-IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

[MallowTheCloud]

I'm in on the LES chase this yr. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

If there's a LES chase this year, and I save up enough money... and it's during winter break -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- ... I might just consider joining.

[The Dude]

I'm in on the LES chase this yr. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

Me too! -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

[Eric]

Josh, I'm most relieved you made it through the storm unscathed. What a riveting account. It brings back so many memories of Hurricane Hugo, especially your description of the wind. Each wave of wind that went over my house during Hugo sounded like a jet taking off right above the roof. It's a sound that I will never forget, and neither will you.

Thank you for allowing us to live vicariously through your adventure. I'm looking forward to seeing your pictures and your video.

[ValleyPA]

Josh--what a great summary! That's an A+++ in my book!
Mary

[Pathfinder]

Josh, first and foremost I'm glad you came through Dean safe and sound. You gave an excellent write up and I appreciate you sharing, reading your account made me want to chase as well. Congrats, you took a chance pursuing what you love, which is worth a lot. Looking forward to more canes for you to chase in safer places!

PF

[MalakianOne]

Hunt for Food
Almost all restaurants were closed—a bummer because I was craving a hot meal. I’d been subsisting on multigrain bars and sugar corn pops for the last 36 hours and couldn’t do it anymore—I needed real food.

A grocery store that had lost much of its roof was open for business, and I bought some canned tuna and vegetables which I planned to eat cold. It was a dismal prospect but I’m used to this sort of thing after a big ‘cane.

Imagine my delight when I came across an open hamburger stand. The front door was smashed but they were running on a generator. I waited on line for about a half hour, watching through the window like a hungry dog while two chicks wearing hairnets slaved over a hot grill cranking out elaborate hamburguesas con todo. Do you know what butter melting on a grill smells like to someone who hasn’t had a hot meal in three days? -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- Needless to say, it was the best burger I’d had in a very long time. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

LOL

In fact only the hotel where Mexico's president was sleeping and the hamburguesas con todo stand was w/ power that nigth. U was very lucky!...

[turtlehurricane]

Good stuff Josh, a very nice summary. Storm chasing sounds pretty tiring!

P.S. It ended up there wasn't enough room on the flight for me but, the plane had mechanical problems anyways and couldn't take off. Its odd how these things work out. -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.-

Also, this thread should help lighten the mood for you -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view images.- -IMAGE LINK: Sorry, Guests cannot view links.-

[nutmegfriar]

Terrific write-up. Thanks very much.

[kellybean]

Josh, what was the most imporatnt pieces of equipment you had with you? (i'm thinking of this as my power is out from a very nasty squall we just had --wind gust of 80 mph not too far from here-- and i'm absolutely adoring my iPhone with its ability to still get internet right now.)