Man Buildeth, The Lord Sayeth "Ya Think?" EDITED

Today, I ventured down to my friend Rosie & Mr. Hawthorne's house for a quick visit. BTW, it is exactly 82.3 miles & 1 hour 29 minutes from my driveway to hers. After a really good lunch, which Rosie describes better than me here, we ventured out. Our target was South Nags Head, which bore some of the worst of the damage from the November Nor'easter. Some video during the storm is here, and here.

Why was the damage so great? Remember the old song you learned in Sunday School about the foolish man who built his house upon the sand? Yeah, there's a reason the dunes are there. See that row of 9 or so houses right along the surf?

Now, I don't know if the surf was right there when they were built. I would hope not. What city with any integrity or sense would issue building permits for such a thing? What builder with any integrity would build them there? The buyers were either arrogant, or stupid, or gamblers. It's really, really hard to have sympathy for such a colossal failure at so many levels, even though I know that some of the owners put all their life savings into those houses, and now it's all gone. I try, but I can't squeeze out any tears. I just want to smack them all and say "What were you thinking?!"

I only hope no one is foolish enough to try that again. But, alas, we can't seem to learn from history. This seems to happen every time there is a big storm on the OBX. Same thing happened with Isabel. She even opened up a new inlet on Hatteras Island.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:46_9_21_03_14.jpg

Anyway, the lesson here? DON'T DO THIS!

See the dune on the right side of this picture? Houses are supposed to go BEHIND it. That would be to the left of the picture. Look where the house is:

Okay numbskull, what happens to your house when you put it in front of the dune so nothing would block your view of the ocean (I could be wrong about that):

It was fricking cold. The temp was 33 and the wind was blowing fiercely. We ended up chewing on sand and freezing to the point of pain. The wind chill had to be in the upper teens or lower 20's. We were woefully underdressed. Oops.

As for the rest of these, I don't really need to say much. There are a lot of pictures. It was jaw-dropping, stunning, sickening, and senseless.

The pilings were sunk deep into the sand. They, uh, hold the house up. Starting at the left, look at the 2nd & 5th pilings. They were swinging free. There was a good 6 inches of air under each. Look at the 1st, 3rd, and 4th. They have been reinforced. Makes you realize this has happened before.

The sand bags didn't work.

This next group of houses are the ones in the Google Earth image at the beginning of this post. The road was completely destroyed. All the septic tanks were uncovered, looking like ghastly coffins. Ewww, but the smell was long gone.

Look at the name of this house.

Yeah, either the house is escaping into the ocean, or it was a warning for the residents that that's what they'd better do.

Should insurance pay for all this? I say NO. Building on the beach is a gamble. Sometimes you lose. The rest of us shouldn't have to pay for it.

The deceased comic Sam Kinison once hollered "it's like people who built their houses on the side of a volcano, then complain when there's lava in the living room."

Mr. Hawthorne is a realtor on the Outer Banks. My friend Russ is in the mortgage lending business on the Outer Banks. They may have another perspective on this that would make me less disgusted, but I don't think so.

Next, more from my visit.

Edited on 1-13-10: A comment on this post prompted some research on my part. You can see it all if you click on the "Comments" link.

We Interrupt This Program . . .

The "November Nor'easter" of 2009 will be remembered here as having the 4th highest storm surge in the last 100 years. It missed 3rd place by only a few inches.

In the #1 spot is the 1933 hurricane (naming of hurricanes had not yet started) which had tides of 9.8 feet above normal and caused massive damage as the eye of the storm came on land directly overhead here.

#2 honors goes to the "Ash Wednesday Storm", dubbed by the US Weather Bureau as "The Great Atlantic Storm" in March of 1962 wasn't even a hurricane. It was just a plain ol' nor-easter.

#3 bronze medal belongs to Hurricane Isabel when she spanked us in 2003. "The worst of the effects of Isabel occurred in Virginia, especially in the Hampton Roads area."

So, now we have the November Nor'easter, which is really the remnants of Hurricane Ida (click that link to see some awesome pictures from around here, also part 2, part 3, & part 4). She topped out at 7.3 feet. Doesn't sound like much, but those of you in coastal areas KNOW.

Now, for the rest of this, remember to click on any picture to enlarge it.

My backyard backs up to protected wetlands, so I basically have a marsh in my back yard. Or a swamp, really. But among the tall marsh grasses, there is a little creek that goes out to the Elizabeth River. See here:


Here's my back yard during the storm's LOW TIDE:



At the tide's highest, it was lapping against the backs of those peoples' house behind mine.

At my house, each of my neighbors was surrounded by water . . .





. . . and the back half of my shed was under water overnight when the tide was at it's highest
(here it's at low tide),


. . . but my house is on a bit of a rise, so it was fine. The streets, though, not so much.



These next 3 pictures are in sequence. Did he just do this for fun?




Soon I will go back home and start to clean up. I think every pine needle in my pine trees is now in my yard. Limbs & branches. Crap everywhere, but the leaves are pretty, eh?


Now, keep in mind that the flooding in my neighborhood is minor compared to some of the other areas in my corner of the state (especially after looking at the pictures on the links above), and we lost power for over 24 hours. Not so bad, but I have well water. It uses a pump to suck the water out of the well.
The pump is electric. No electricity = no water. Bummer.

So, here's the plan for such things - I have a cistern that I collect rainwater in. Buckets get filled and brought to the bathroom for toilet flushing. Hey, even in a howling storm, one must maintain certain standards.

Anyway, the first night without power, BS has enough juice left in his laptop battery to let us watch some "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" (don't ask). Then his battery needed charging, so he ditched his poor helpless mother in the dark to go to his Granny's house to bask in the glow of electrical bliss. I sat in the living room with whatever reflected glow was in the sky outside and 3 flashlights at my side.

Sat.
Twiddled my thumbs.
Sat some more
Aw, hell. I'm going to sleep. Nuthin else to do.

Next day - got up early (that's what happens when you go to bed at 8:00) and drove through lots of water to get to work. Left early to get home and see if any damage control needed doing while it was still light enough to see. Still no power. Damn.

So I did what any good contestant on "Survivor" would do. I came to my mother's condo on the Chesapeake Bay to take a shower, wash some clothes, and sleep in a warm bed. I'm such a wuss.


The Lynnhaven Fishing Pier succumbed to the forces of nature again (as it did during Isabel), and yes, they will rebuild. Again. (movie reference. anyone?)




Lastly, I would like to say to the hundreds of tireless workers of Dominion Virginia Power who have been working round the clock to restore power to the over 370,000 people left in the dark because of this storm,
"Thank you and God Bless."

In a day or so, the last of my musings about the Bahamas. First, I want to go home.