How I Survived Hurricane Maria – Part 1

Hurricane Maria Stripped Hills Off Vegetation and Pulverized Entire Hillsides

Hurricane Maria Stripped Hills Off Vegetation and Pulverized Entire Hillsides

Hello friends,

The “lucky to be live” may be an overused phrase, but for me it has taken a whole new meaning. For what it’s worth, I’m alive. I survived Hurricane Maria, but as much as that may sound like something to brag about, fact of a matter is, there wasn’t a single soul in Dominica who wouldn’t have been shitting their pants on the night of September 18, 2017. That includes me.

I really don’t see the point in pretending to be macho and saying I didn’t even wink during the hurricane. There was an immensely deadly force unleashing its full, devastating power outside my door, and the only thing separating me from certain death were the walls around me. If any part of the house got breached, I’d be dead. That’s not even a maybe. That’s a guarantee.

The power Hurricane Maria hit us with was out of this world. This wasn’t one of those hurricanes where you can tie yourself to a tree and let the wind flop you around for a YouTube video. Maria would tear you to shreds along with that tree before you got to do your first flop. Maria didn’t just level houses, she moved entire hills, cleared whole mountains of vegetation, carved new river beds into the earth and sealed the old ones with piles of massive boulders. There would have been negative chance of surviving for a human exposed to it, including humans who had a breach in their shelter. If Maria blasted your door, you’re a stain on the wall, and everything else in the house is pulverized to dust. So yeah, let me be honest here even if someone uses it to picture me as chicken shit – I was scared shitless. You couldn’t put a sharpened hair up my ass I was clenching them so tight…

September 17, 2017

The effects of Maria started to be felt on September 17, a whole day before the hurricane proper made its landfall. The severe weather disturbance Maria was pushing in front of it brought with it extraordinarily heavy rains and strong winds, but nothing that this island hasn’t seen before. At that time, Hurricane Maria was a Category 1 Hurricane, but while the services on the island remained operational, we were being warned that it is rapidly strengthening and is about to become a major hurricane.

The landfall was forecast for Monday evening and was expected to last into Tuesday morning. I spent most of Monday fortifying the house, went to fill up my bottles with water, and holed in for the blast. I was able to post a quick update with the video of the weather disturbance that preceded Hurricane Maria, but minutes later, at around 6pm, the wind really picked up, utility tower started to crash and crumble all around me and we lost the power and the internet.

At that time, I thought to myself: “That’s hands down the worst time for the power to go out.” Because of Dominica’s proximity to the Equator, there are minimal fluctuations between dusk and dawn, which happen around 6pm and 6am respectively all year round. In other words, unlike in countries further up the hemisphere, who experience longer days in Summer, but longer nights in Winter, the closer to the Equator you are, the less prominent that difference is. Furthermore, the closer to the Equator you are, the less gradual the change from day to night. In other words again, so close to the Equator as Dominica is, the daylight doesn’t gradually fade away over a period of minutes, but rather goes pretty quickly from daylight to nighttime.

So when the power went out at 6pm, my initial thought was about the really bad timing for it. Had we lost it sooner, there would still be some daylight left, so perhaps the technicians may be able to repair some of it for at least partial power restoration. If we lost it later, then I wouldn’t have to turn to the candles so early. It was clear that with the power going out at 6, nobody’s going to repair it because it’s already dark, and the combination of strong wind and heavy rain would make any kind of outdoor work an impossibility. Little did I know at that time what was yet to come.

The second concern I had after losing the power was the heat. See, Dominica is a tropical country and it’s hot and humid here year round. The house I’m renting doesn’t have much of anything to shade it around, so it’s always stuffy hot inside. Electricity is very expensive in Dominica so I always tried to make do with just the little breeze I could get by opening all windows, and only turned the fan on when it wasn’t enough and I just could not control the sweat. The house has no AC (it’s a cheap house which I rented because it doesn’t cost too much by Dominican standards).

Excessive sweating was a concern because I suffer recurrent kidney stones and need to drink a lot of water every day – more than an average person. Furthermore, the liquids you lose by sweating would need to be replenished, and hurricanes are known to have triggered landslides and washed away bridges in Dominica, cutting affected people off from the rest of the world. I filled up my bottles before hand so I had enough water to last me about 5 days, if used moderately and properly rationed, so should Maria cause something of sorts, consuming a significant part of my water rations on day 1 could have devastating impact on future survival.

So now with the power gone, I could not turn on the fan. And with the proper mayhem happening outside, there was no way I could open a window. Even the smallest crack would be akin to opening the floodgates of hell. It would result in complete destruction of the room and everyone/everything in it. The fact that I wouldn’t be able to close it if I opened it, due to the sheer force of the wind that would enter the crack would be irrelevant, as I’d be dead on second 1. Maybe 2 if I got lucky.

Before Maria’s arrival, I reinforced all windows with shutters consisting of wooden boards I nailed into the frame around it, but left a small gap at the bottom where I placed steel bars that wouldn’t let anything larger than 3 inches through. Granted, a small rock could still blast through and cause damage, but being hit by a rock that can fit in a palm, versus a boulder thrice the size of your head makes hell of a difference.

So there I was, crouching quietly in my room, concerned at the time with such things as not being able to give you guys any more updates, and being too hot without the ability to cool off in any way. Shortly after the power went out, my landlady texted me asking how the house was handling the storm, and if everything was OK with me. I replied that the wind was seriously strong and the house is getting battered, but it was still standing without any signs of giving in. I hit the SEND button, but noticed the text was taking way too long to send. Then I noticed that I barely had a bar of signal strength. I lived in this house for 2 months and had 5 bars the whole time. It became clear to me that the hurricane destroyed the signal towers near me, and I was barely just picking up signal from some distant tower that was still somehow standing through all this.

Hurricane Proper

Shit was bad, I knew the hurricane finally arrived, but the whole island was pitch dark so I was unable to see anything. I found not being able to see what’s going on outside very tormenting. The sound the hurricane was making was absolutely disastrous. It was pure massacre in real time, yet it was this sensory deprivation of the carnage I found myself in the middle of that jumped to the top of the list of my biggest concerns at the time.

As the carnage outside continued, with not many other options left, I decided to spend the hurricane in style and first rolled up a fat one to smoke, and then jerked it off to the sound of shit being smashed outside.

The noise the hurricane was making was too much to sleep through, but I still felt reasonably safe, and as I lay in bed, I realized my brain has been shaking from the immensely loud, low pitch noise that sounded as if I had my head in a huge turbine. It’s like a jet fuel engine was running full blast next to my house. The intensity and the volume of the sound was comparable to a air-raid siren, with the only difference being that the tone of a siren is rather high pitch, whereas this turbine noise was very low frequency, somewhere on the lower end of audible sounds, but very loud and intense, and continuous, much like a siren.

Strangely enough, I did not notice the noise begin. I only noticed it when it was already this loud. It somehow gradually crept in and with other loud noises of wind blasting into my house and objects flying around and crashing into things, I didn’t notice it until it was full blast.

Upon the initial notice, I thought that maybe one of the neighbours is running a huge generator and that’s making the noise, but 1 I realized there was no bloody way anybody could possibly run a generator in this weather. That thing would get ripped out of wherever it stands, carried 5 miles and dumped into the Caribbean Sea. Ain’t no fucking way anybody would walk out in this wind to start an outdoor generator and leave it running. Just ain’t no fucking way. So what the hell was making that intense noise, I thought to myself?

I’ve been through hurricanes before. I lived through a very powerful Category 3 Hurricane and it was not pretty. It was terrifying on every level imaginable and then some. At this stage of Hurricane Maria, her effects and the terror factors were just like that. I was hoping Maria would not get this strong, but she did. I knew in this moment my initial cavalier attitude of thinking that I would smoke weed and jerk off through it was gonna get slapped out of me real fucking fast. I started to fear the worse as it was clear the electricity will not be coming back anytime soon. I couldn’t see shit, but the sound of doom outdoor left no doubt in my mind that no power line has been left standing. I heard them crashing down, I heard the cables snap and whip through the air like the whip of Belrog.

From Bad to Worse

By around 7pm, my landlady texted me one more time, saying: “Hang in there, it’s gonna get worse”. And I’m thinking to myself – maybe for you, for me it already got worse. Just wait for it.

I was gonna reply to her with a text, but the text failed to send. The wind picked up to the point that it destroyed all remaining towers so I was effectively cut off from the outside world. Boxed inside the house alone, the best I could do is pray the hurricane doesn’t breach it.

By that time, the intense and unrelenting turbine sound started to feel like it’s giving me a headache. It was really painful on the ears, and it’s low frequency very hard on the brain.

Come 7:30 or thereabout, the turbine noise changed. It sounded as if somebody turned it up from level 1 to level 10. It got severely louder, severely more intense, and severely stronger. At the same time, the intensity of the wind and rain went up 10 fold. Also at the same time, air pressure severely changed, causing intense ear pain and imbalance on the ear drum. I had to equalize the pressure several times – those of you who took a diving course will know what I mean.

It went from absolute carnage that destroyed power lines and cell towers, to an Armageddon type end of the world shit plus some. My heartbeat went through the roof and I felt severe stomach tension – not sure if it was fear induced, or the massive change in air pressure had anything to do with it.

I ran out of my room after a first vehicle was slammed into the wall. The banging of cars, houses and entire trees being tossed around and slammed into each other was only overpowered by that turbine sound that got multiple times more intense that it was when the power of the hurricane was in around the Category 3 range.

I ran out of my room and cowered in the tiny hallway leading to the house’s bathroom. It’s only about 80cm wide with walls on 3 sides and all 3 walls are inner walls, meaning before these are breached, outer walls would have to be breached first. My room was a corner room so it had 2 outer walls. I knew I was not safe there.

Unfortunately, the little corridor I was in was only walled in on 3 sides and 1 side was open. It was the side facing what I considered the weakest point of the house – the main door. The wind was applying so much pressure on that door, I started to fear the hinges will not hold. So I fashioned a barrier around the open side of the corridor by piling armchairs and other furniture around it and hid in the tiny space.

The diabolical sound of the force of nature outside is difficult to put into words. No such words as “terrifying” do it any justice. Unfortunately for me, moments after I holed myself in, the wind blasted the towel I stuffed under the door out, and water started pouring in by tankloads. Within a minute I had 2 inches of water all over the floor.

As part of my fortifying the house, I sealed all cracks as much as I could. There was a tiny, maybe 2mm wide space between the floor and the door, so I folded a towel multiple times, rammed it under the door and then forced the door shut with the towel in there. It took superhuman force to shut that door because I folded the towel up too much, but I knew that thanks to that, it will stay there and it will help to keep the door sealed in place. But Hurricane Maria just laughed it out.

It felt like someone with one of those massive, industrial, high pressure water pumps that pump 100 gallons of water per second and can empty entire lakes, is outside my door, blasting it with that destructive power of that water. It blasted off that towel, and through that small space, as well as other nigh invisible cracks I did not know existed, water started pouring in. I then spent most of the time while the wind was this strong standing by the door, trying to keep the towel at least near the door so water and dirt/debris stop coming in so readily and in such high volume.

Then, part of my roof got blown off and water started dripping in from the ceiling. The carnage outside was beyond words. I knew right away there was no bloody way this was a Category 3 or a Category 4 hurricane. This sounded way beyond even Category 5 Hurricane, which is considered the highest achievable. What Maria was blasting us with, if that’s still considered Category 5, then it must be on the uppermost level of it, level few storms ever reach.

This massive carnage lasted for about an hour, though as I kept fighting with the wind, trying to prevent more water from pouring in, exerting enormous amount of energy to stay alive, it felt much longer. My heart was jumping out of the chest. My brain was fogging from the intense turbine noise. And the carnage was just not letting go.

Relentless

I stood by the door, holding it cause it sounded like the wind is gonna blow it in, praying for a break in its strength so I can make a quick run into my room to get the keys. The door has two locks – 1 knob lockable from the inside with just a turning button, and one key lock you need the key for both the inside and outside operation. I generally only lock that one when I leave the house. While I’m inside, I just lock the knob so I can easily unlock it if somebody knocks, or if I need to step out.

Unfortunately, I only locked the knob before the hurricane and when that main blast of the core arrived, I knew the door is not gonna last and I desperately wanted to have both locks engaged, so I have an extra point that will keep the door attached to the frame. I just needed a minute of lesser wind intensity to let go off the door and get the key. That break didn’t come for the longest time.

At the same time, water started dripping in through the ceiling. I guessed the hurricane took part of the roof and caused water to get onto the ceiling and through there, into the house. I had all my property on raised platforms, and thus safe from water on the floor, but now that water was also coming from the ceiling, there wasn’t a safe place to store my electronic devices and other property. Meanwhile, I’m stuck holding the door, my feet are drowning in water, as more water drips on my head.

While it seemed to me as though the wind intensity has not slowed down, after about an hour I noticed that the turbine noise, which had gone from 1 to 10 to announce the arrival of the hurricane core, returned back to 1. The wind retained the force exceeding Category 5, but the turbine noise made me feel I can let go off the door to get the key and engage the lock.

A Bit of Relief

I returned back to the hole in the corridor, but was no longer able to sit on the floor due to a large puddle of water being there and everywhere in the house. I stood there for a while, while wind continued raging outside, until I noticed the turbine sound going away. I didn’t hear it coming, as it somehow came in gradually and got mixed up with the noise of the wind banging into things and throwing things about, but I heard it going away, perhaps because I was paying attention to it this time around.

I thought to myself – this was the most terrifying experience of my life. Absolute horror on every level imaginable. The line between life and death I was treading was so thin, at any given time I was half a second away from certain death. If at any time the wind breached the door, I’d fly with it like a cannon ball, through the wall on the opposite side and into the hill side 100 meter behind the house where I’d be buried deep in the muddy soil. Not a grain of exaggeration in this or any other paragraph. As a matter of fact, I don’t think this description comes anywhere near to the horror Maria brought with her in real life. That level of horror cannot be described. One would have to experience it to know what it really feels like.

Usually, when people have a near death experience, the moment you brush with death only lasts for a short moment. After it, it’s all about utter disbelief and asking oneself “What the actual fucking fuck. I almost fucking died. Holy shit that was scary“. For me, that moment of pure death actively pulling me with all she has into the underworld lasted over an hour. I wished for the opportunity to say to myself “What the actual fucking fuck. I almost fucking died. Holy shit that was scary“, but to get to that point, the death would have to loosen her grip, which she hadn’t for way too long.

After the turbine sound passed and vanished, even though the wind and rain remained extremely intense, I started to experience the feeling of relief that even though this was the most brutal experience of my life and the Grim Reaper’s hand was all the way on my balls and pulling, I somehow slipped his grasp and got to live another day. Or so I thought.

I returned into my room, wet from all the water and debris on the floor, and laid on the bed to finally give my feet a chance to dry up. I searched the house for a mop, but did not find out. My landlady rented me the room, but didn’t leave any household maintenance tools for my use. Any attempt at opening the door would result in certain death, given the force the wind retained, plus it’s pitch dark and a candle only gives you so much light, so it was clear I will have to wait until daylight to deal with all this water.

I quickly assessed water damage to my property and realized both my laptop and my cell phone are drenched. I immediately removed batteries from both, dried them up as much as I could, though that wasn’t easy with everything around me being soaked and with water still dripping in uncontrollably, and prayed they’d still work when I try them out during daylight hours. Messing around with them in pitch dark as carnage destroys the world around me would have been foolish.

I laid down in my partially wet bed with my heart pumping like mad and my brain struggling with coming to terms with what had just transpired, I began the deep breathing exercises to calm me down, and lit up a candle under a diffuser I filled up with calming lavender essential oil.

The carnage outside was about as bad as before the core arrived, which was really bad and destructive, but not Armageddon bad that’s wiping out all in its path.

Not Done Yet

I stayed in bed for an unspecified amount of time, maybe close to an hour, and just as I began regaining my composure and my heartbeat slowed down, the turbine sound came back, but this time I heard it, and this time it went from 0 to 10 in one second, and then from 10 to 20 in the next second. Not gradual like before – it went straight into the Armageddon mode squared in an instant. And in the same instant, the air pressure once again significantly changed, and the carnage of the core I fought with before came back, only this time twice as hard and lasting twice as long. What a fucking mind trick it pull on me with that break. In hindsight, I guess that break was the eye of the storm where it’s calm. And even though Maria’s eye was not entirely calm, as it was in the destructive Category 3 range, the core around it was beyond Category 5 and when that second wave arrived, it made it clear from the first second that the previous blasts were just a gentle warm up.

This is where it got seriously serious. The wind came back with so much power, the previous wave felt like a breeze. Right the first blast came with absolutely everything it had, it banged like mad upon impact onto us and everything but the strongest built and deepest rooted structures stood their ground. Everything else flew. Cars, shipping containers, entire houses, massive trees, entire hills.

Maria changed the topography of Dominica. It would take a hillside and pulverize it into mud, which then got deposited on the ground around the objects it hit. I had about a foot of mud everywhere around the house. I was lucky. In Roseau (capital of Dominica), there are houses buried up to their roofs in mud brought it by the hurricane from the hills it dissolved.

Hills that stood firm didn’t get moved, but got stripped of vegetation. Let me pause here for a minute and just note that Dominica is an island of volcanic origin located in the Caribbean, smack in the middle of the entry to the Caribbean Hurricane Belt. This island that has been here for millions of years has been battered by hurricanes and tropical storms multiple times each year.

Vegetation that grows and thrives on this lush and green island has well adapted to hurricanes, otherwise it wouldn’t survive and the island would be barren. So all these local plants, in particular trees, as grasses are usually very flexible and don’t grow that high (except bamboo, which is a grass and does grow high as trees), have something to them that allows them to survive and thrive despite being regularly battered by hurricane force winds several times a year.

Oftentimes it’s flexibility. Most palm trees are very flexible and will bend all the way to the ground under severe wind pressure. Bamboo as well, even though its grass, it really grows into a tree, is very flexible. Bamboo also grows in clusters, within which individual shoots support each other. They too will bend without breaking all the way to the ground and whereas they don’t rely on each individual’s strength, as they grow in a cluster close to one another, when the storm passes, they just spring back up and continue growing upward.

Other trees are very hard and sturdy, and have equally hard and sturdy branches, as well as well rooted roots. Trees like bay are always a welcome companion on steep hills for a wilderness man, for you know you can grab even the tiniest branch and hang your entire weight on it and it won’t break off. Mahogany and similar trees are alike.

These trees have these characteristics because otherwise they wouldn’t survive on an island like Dominica. So most of the time when a hurricane arrives, the vegetation is right where it was before the hurricane. But Maria wasn’t just your regular hurricane. She ripped those trees up like they were made of butter. She ripped them out with roots, or just ripped them in half and took the top, or with the sturdiest of trees, ripped out all their crowns, leaving just their trunk and a few bare branches.

In the Botanical Gardens in Roseau, there used to be humongous, majestic trees. These old trees are centuries old and have been the pride of the Gardens for decades. Over the centuries, these trees withstood hundreds of hurricanes. But Hurricane Maria of 2017 ripped them out of the ground and threw them down wherever she wished.

This rear end of Maria’s core brought with it destruction of unprecedented magnitude. I don’t even want to begin thinking about how Dominica could possibly recover from this. Where do you even start. The entire city of Roseau, every street is under mud up to 2 meters high. Every bridge I’ve seen, and wouldn’t be surprised if every bridge in the country was either completely destroyed, or damaged to the point that no expert would declare it safe for driving on. 90% of roads are either destroyed, or buried under thick layer of mud and debris from the rainforest (leaves, branches, entire trees, etc).

The entire upscale community of Morne Bruce, where the Prime Minister has his residence, has been ravaged, with many properties razed to the ground. Every single utility post has been damaged in some way, either completely torn out, snapped in half, cracked across, or otherwise damaged beyond repair. Cell phone towers destroyed. Water and sewage systems destroyed. Airports destroyed. Businesses destroyed. I mean – there is nothing but carnage on every step in Dominica everywhere right now and so far no cleaning, repairing, restoring or similar works have been initiated. I mean seriously, where do you even start?

If the government were to focus its entire emergency crew on cleaning the road between me and Roseau, it would take them months just to clean the 5km stretch, and when done, the road would still not be drivable because bridges have been damaged, and the soil under the road was swept away in number of places. All this would have to be repaired for this one short stretch of the road to reopen. That’s a job for a year at least, provided you got billions of $$$ on hand to get the work started right away and going at full speed until completion, and the capacity to bring heavy machinery by helicopter where it’s needed, as it can’t get anywhere by road.

Anyway – so this second wave, which was the rear end of the core, came with much more force than the impossibly powerful front end. I could not possibly, in any capacity, put into words what it felt like for me being alone in the house that was being hammered by this outworldly force. This time around I could not afford to cower in the narrow corridor. The wind blasts into my front door were so powerful, the hinges were cracking. With three hinges anchoring the door on the left, and two locks close to each other on the right, this door, even though specially reinforced, was not gonna last. I mean, this hurricane broke, I mean broke – as in snapped in half, the metal gate in front of my house. Wooden door with wooden frame were not gonna hold it out.

The wind’s pressure on the door felt as if an army of Morgoth was trying to bring my door down by ramming it with a 50k ton Grunt. When I saw those hinges cracking, I had no option but use all the power I had in me against the power of Hurricane Maria to hold that door in place. If that door was kicked in, I’m dead. Zero question about it. Nada, None. Dead, they wouldn’t probably find me. I’d be molecularily dispersed into thin air.

With my options being I either hold this door, or die, I pushed that sucker for dear life. It took all the energy I got out of me, and I was praying for the force of the wind to slow down for at least a minute so I can at least catch some breath and regain composure, but that sucker never let go. It came all guns blazing, and blazed all the way through. Not a second of break. And that force was not only physically draining, but also mentally.

The constant sound of banging all around me was making the whole experience extra gutclenching. I knew property is being demolished left and right, and each time a big bang shook the ground, it made me feel so much more helpless and powerless. The more it banged, the more severe the bangs got, the more I realized this girl is not slowing down. I guess I kept this hopeless wish in my mind that if banging stopped, it would mean that she got a little less destructive and that would somehow translate into the feeling of diminishing danger?

This second blast never let go, never slowed down, never tried to catch breath itself. Maria went absolute full terror on the island and went and on and on and on. When I was completely out of everything I had for energy reserves, and thought to myself “Are you fucking serious, are you still not done after all this?” she just kept going like she’s just started. The second blast lasted for a very long time. That was simply too long to be this terrified on such relentless basis. I wanted a break to move furniture to the door to either directly wedge it against it, or provide extra weight to it. I never got that opportunity. And the wind of epic force kept going at the absolute full of it for about 2 hours. The physical and mental exhaustion this has caused, once again, cannot be put into words.

Imagine sitting in a tiny house that’s nothing special. If anything, it looks old, worn out and shoddy. Now imagine a relentless bombardment begins in the area. Bombs are exploding one after the other, and keep exploding, and they are getting bigger and louder. Each time one explodes, the ground shakes, and all your doors, windows and walls shake with it. Shrapnel are hitting your walls and doors, The blasts of each explosion are causing shock waves that near smash your door in every time. And they just keep exploding and exploding, and keep getting louder and getting closer. All around you, explosion after explosion, ground shaking, cannot stop it, all windows rattling, your head feels like it wants to explode, your ears are losing their hearing, the your door keeps trying to barge in with every massive shock wave and they just keep happening and happening and you got nothing you could do but cower and hope none hits you directly. You can’t step out as the moment you begin the exit, the fast flying shards the air is filled with will riddle you a thousand times over. So you stay inside and hope you’re not next as you fear every second could be your last. And this goes on and on relentlessly for hours.

Of course, as if the terrible force of the hurricane was not bad enough, it also retained its maximum force for way too long. I heard and felt the destruction taking place outside, so it was all about asking: “Have you seriously not had enough? You destroyed all there is to destroy and you’re still going full blast? What more there for you to prove? You’re already the most destructive force of nature to ever hit this island, so give it a break already…” But she wouldn’t, she kept going and destroying, pulverizing hills, sealing shut old river beds and carving out new ones. She really wanted to make sure there is not gonna be a more destructive force to take her off the pedestal.

After about 2 hours, when I noticed the turbine sound go down from 20 to 10, where it was during the first blast, I felt a slight bit of relief, but at the same time realized I felt such relief before, only to have the hurricane return with twice the force. I pretty much knew the core passed right over Dominica and due to that we had one blast followed by the other. It was brutal. But I still wasn’t sure there wasn’t going to be a third blast. Luckily, there wasn’t, but Category 3 force rains remained until first light at 6am.

Part 2 Will Follow

I’m currently on emergency measures and only have this bit of internet using a satellite and a generator. I was allowed to use a computer connected to the generator to type out quick text and then have my 5 minutes of the internet to quickly upload it and post it. Should I have further opportunity to post, I will make an appearance. Should all go well for me today, in a few hours I will be in a helicopter heading out of Dominica. I apologize for unavoidable spelling errors.

I have a few pics and videos, though they are not much. I cannot share them now, though, as I don’t have normal internet. My phone and laptop got damaged, but my GoPro camera (beat up 2nd generation but working) was in waterproof casing and survived. I have not had a way to charge its battery, though, so I was limited in what I could use it for. Also, the hurricane struck in the middle of the night when the entire island was without power. There are no visuals of the carnage it caused.

To all my haters – I’m sorry. The Canadian regime with their unlimited resources tried to rid you off me, but failed. Mother nature then threw the worst that she has at me, yet I’m still here. Maybe try siccing a mosquito on me?

Mark

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188 thoughts on “How I Survived Hurricane Maria – Part 1”

          1. Fuuuuuuck that sucks for us Mark but you have been through so much. You do what you need to do and IF you get to get back a lot of your true BG family that have come to know you will get back on as well. Hope you got some good ganja for those late nights. One love. Monica ^.^ ~~~~~

    1. Very glad that you are/to hear that you are alive, &, well..I hope that remains the situation, despite the fact hurricane might not quite be done. I wish you nothing but the best! Be safe, as best you can; We All hope/want you to continue being Alive, &, remain as safe as possible. Thank you for the update. Stay strong, my friend..Good luck!!

    2. I’m old and have developed ADD – I couldn’t read your whole account. I just want to say I’m glad you made it. Makes us believe ever more in either living outside the hurricane belt, or building homes out of steel reinforced concrete – up out of the tidal surge zones. Glad you’re still among the living. There must be a reason you were spared and are still among the living. Find your purpose for existing and fulfill it.

    1. How far up into your throat did your balls get? Sounds like that’s an experience you’ll never want to relive again, but will, in some way, be glad you that you survived through it for the experience it gave you.
      I’m thinking steel reinforced, thick concrete igloo style houses would be better suited for life in Hurricane zones.

    1. Nice spin you put on that KK.
      A video of a full house being tossed through the air would epic, guess we’ll have settle for aftermath pics like looking at burried treasure maybe some legs poking up out the ground, with a few pointers going ‘who know’s this guy?’

  1. Yeah a word from our main man Mark!
    Thank goodness you’re oké, and your report gave me i slight peek into what you have experienced.
    Man what a life altering event must this have been.

    The big question is, how to go forwards from this.
    If even the foundation your trying to rebuild on has been ravaged & altered, it would need a global effort to raise funds and aid to even start fixing the basics.

    Looking forward to part.2 of your report.

    Wishing you all the best,
    Guido

        1. I would definitely not recommend to Mark that he come to Londonistan Mouse, he may have been able to survive a category 5 hurricane but asking him to survive a category 5 chimp-out would be a test too far.

          As for Dominica being a destroyed shithole full of desperate fleshy viruses Mouse, I do have to wonder what it must look like now after the hurricane hit it.

          1. Pride and employment Mouse.

            In the above, Britain is much like America in that a lot of jobs have now been outsourced to countries where it can be done on the cheap. IT and call centre work to India, manufacturing to China etc. Our government and greedy businessmen also let in millions of immigrants from poorer countries so that they would compete against and replace the indigenous workforce whilst lowering the wage levels across the board at the exact same time. This of course meant that many previously prosperous parts of the country that depended upon trades and manufacturing to survive went into a state of decline wherein high levels of unemployment and an almost complete lack of prospects and future caused many of the citizens to turn to booze and drugs in an attempt to numb their pain and blot out the misery of it all.

            To conclude, I fucking hate Londonistan and city life in general. Londonistan is no longer a part of England as far as I am concerned and is more akin to a scene out of Blade Runner if you ask me.

            Londonistan is a complete shithole wherein the English are now the minority in their own land and wherein niggers can be seen on every street corner selling drugs, committing crime, killing each other in broad daylight, rape, theft and murder left right and centre ect. They even go around throwing acid in peoples faces now for fucks sake. Guns are not even legal or widely used over here Mouse but niggers still behave the exact same way here as they do in America so I can tell you right now that America doesn’t have a “gun problem” it has a “nigger problem” just like we do.

            I could go on and on but the point is that I wouldn’t be anywhere near Londonistan or any other large “multicultural” city if it were not for the fact that most of the jobs outside of the major cities have been sent abroad or given to cheap immigrant workers who live ten to a room to off-set their losses and send all their wages back home where it goes much further.

            I have a choice then, it’s either choose to work within major city shitholes or face unemployment. A much harder choice than it appears I can assure you.

            If only I could win the lottery.

    1. Are you also a frustrated dishwasher? How many plates did you washed today? Topped Scat26’s record of 400 plates?

      LOL, you beta male whoreson. I fart against your nasty-faced SKULL. Pppprrrrrrrrtttttttttpppppffffffffffffffttttttttttt

  2. Glad to hear you’re safe man. I’ve been through Hurricane Rita. Nothing like you went through apparently. At least we don’t have to see that idiot wearing the rainbow Dr. Seuss hat when we open the almighty Gore!

  3. Hey Mark I don’t usually comment on things, I just enjoy the site but I wanted to let you know like others that I’m relieved your okay and you survived the super storm. I was checking in daily even from work to see if you updated your status. Hopefully you and your neighbors get back to normal soon.

    John

  4. Great to see you Mark, i was getting worried about you, i was discussing that you got caught in the hurricane with a friend at work i introduced to the site. That’s a real adventure. Glad you made it safe and sound.

  5. MM

    Good to hear from you!

    Knowing where you are, and the relative lack of infrastructure, I’ve been watching the progress of those weather systems since they started to form.

    Great write up of what happened, and I’m looking forward to the images …..

    Check your secure mail when things have settled down a bit.

    np

  6. Now thats something i dont envy… Dayum natuh! U scaweey! 😆 I wonder how many houses arround got completelly wrecked though… Nature wanted to terraform that island for some “spring cleaning” in the end of Summer, and She does what She pleases.

    I laughed at the message to the haters part, but hey, theres cases of people that survived so much shit in life, only to die in the most ridiculous way possible anyways… 😀

  7. Damn Mark,

    I feel sorry man. You left feminize state Canada to live a good MGTOW lifestyle, and then this.

    I am willing to donate some money, fine gentleman!

    Maybe you could try Thailand or Cambodia (secret place to be right now), though I read that you don’t like thailand. It is actually a cool place to live. Stoic and good people, good food and awesome pussy.

    Anyway, hope everything will be fine. Take care, sir.

  8. Dammm so you survived a category 3-4 by rolling a phat joint and jerking off in the middle of the storm…
    And here I thought that that was impossible…
    Now I know what to do if I ever find myself in a similar situation.

    You should write a book and call it
    “Masturbating 2 Maria” or maybe
    “Masturbating with Maria”

    1. Bird, you dishwasher.

      You are a sissy and leave, because you are a mentally enslaved moron and can’t think for yourself. You do what the mass media tells you to do. Like a good slave.

      Guess what. There are other men. Men who think for themselves and don’t wanna leave, and are real men.

      Keep your chump change as a dishwasher. LOL. We piss on you.

      Hope we see you on BEST GORE getting GORED inside a BRAZZEN BULL!!!! Tut tut tut!!!!

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