# Negril.com Message Board Forums > Negril Flashback - Negril throughout the years >  Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - A Gilbert Story

## Rob

Thirty years ago on the Negril beach, and not much was different. It was quiet again, being slow season, so we decided to walk down to the Treehouse to enjoy sunset. The sky colors were incredible this Sunday afternoon, we didn’t know at the time that the pastels were being influenced by the weather that would soon invade our peaceful paradise.

The bands of clouds off in the distance helped to layer the hues, creating some true Kodak moments. We all voted and chose this sunset to be the best of the trip and possibly the best one we had ever seen!

Treehouse had provided great service and cold beverages as usual, a perfect way to get ready for a night out on the beach! Live reggae tonight, the 10th of September! Four more days left in our vacation...

After sunset, we made our way back to the Native Son Villas and enjoyed a great hot meal of fresh fish prepared to perfection by the Villas' cook. We relaxed for a while, then set out to Alfred's for their Sunday show. Live reggae at Alfred's was the place to people watch even thirty years ago.

Alfred's was just beginning to fill up when we arrived at 10:30pm. There was no cover charge but limited seating. We planted ourselves to watch the show.

Some smoke and drink and all was well with the world! The band jammed late into the night as we exchanged small talk with the other tourists and the locals at Alfred's. The band ended about 3am, we still weren’t tired so we walked down the beach toward the roundabout. There were a few all night spots that would cater to those not willing to call it a night and we visited most of them before throwing in the towel for the evening.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #2 Gilbert approaches*

There had been no talk by anyone about any weather concerns on the horizon. It had been an excellent party time...

Waking early with the sun, the scent of Jamaican coffee drew us to the kitchen. We huddled around the sacred coffee pot. Ah, the good morning Blue Mountain brew...

We heard something outside and went to the open kitchen door. We noticed that the cook and groundsman were unusually excited about something. Apparently they heard it on the news. We were moderately hungover and ignored their animated banter. It was early Monday morning and we had a busy day to plan! Been meaning to visit the falls this trip but so far sand gravity had been winning. But it was a new day with great expectations!

The noise outside got louder then it cut off abruptly. The groundsman, was strutting off triumphantly toward the main road. The cook came in through the open door. She looked serious, which didn't strike us as a very good sign that early in the morning. We hadn't even finished our coffee yet.

Her present state was very out of character from the previous four days. We were introduced to her on Thursday by the groundsman who also happened to be the Villas taxi driver. And now it seemed like we were going to find out what all the early morning fuss was about.

The cook told us not to fret but we may need to take some precautions because a hurricane was on its way. Huh? What? Well, okay....

None of us had any idea what this meant. We had never been through a hurricane and we essentially knew nothing about them. Being from Ohio we knew tornadoes, not hurricanes. We weren't from Florida. 

We listened and tried to comprehend her somewhat brief explanation and suggestions. Not completely understanding her because of the Jamaican patois explanation, it was felt it would be best to confirm what was supposed to be a major change to our vacation plans.

The cook suggested we turn on the news.

Not really believing what we had heard, we did as suggested. Turning on the only source of outside information, the radio, it was already tuned to our favourite station, IRIE FM. There was nothing but reggae on IRIE FM which did seem to momentarily settle the issue. IRIE was playing Bob, we were cool. 

The cook was not amused by our instant ignorance but politely smiled and changed the station to a much more official sounding one. The anxious announcer's voice blasted through the villa. The Prime Minister was going to be coming up momentarily!

Okay, this cant be good.

The latest news from the government disaster services was the obvious official word. And the official word was that a hurricane named Gilbert was just hours away from making landfall in Kingston. 

Hmmm.... Okay, now what did that mean? We were clueless.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #3 Gilbert prep begins*Learning what this meant became the number one priority. The Villas staff was busy making the necessary preparations for the property. What did we need to do?

All the utilities, both water and electricity would go down, but that was no big deal. They were down for the most part anyway. Figuring that most restaurant employees will be busy dealing with their own preparations, there would be no relying on the local restaurants for food today. The bars would be closed. We will be needing food and booze. That made sense. We felt smart and congratulated ourselves for our ingenuity. But the store is not open! Will it open?

It was still early, the winds were just beginning to pick up. It was a few hours until Gilbert was scheduled to hit Kingston. The cook suggested we go to the store and pick up supplies to get us through the next few days. So much for feeling smart. 

Mentioning the store isn't open, she assured us they would be. Thinking this may be a wasted gesture, we agreed. We located the groundsman and we all went off to the store by the roundabout.

The store was open as promised and packed with scrambling tourists, apparently everyone had the same idea. The shelves were barren but this wasn't anything new. There was never much of a selection anyway. We did our best to get whatever canned food, pasta and pasta sauce we could find as well as a good amount of bully beef and cheese at the direction of the cook. We would need to pay more attention to her suggestions in the future. Adding to the food we stocked up on beer, drinks, bread and rum. We felt we had done a great job shopping and shot back to the villas. 

Arriving back, we began scanning the radio stations for the latest. Information seemed imperative at this point. Even IRIE FM had gone to an all news format so we felt we were on the right track. The PM had addressed the nation and reassured no one. He had not found out about the hurricane much earlier than we had. 

The weather was degrading rapidly with periods of gusty wind and light rain beginning to form into a noticeable pattern. While at the store, the groundsman had tried to locate plywood to cover the windows to no avail. We hadn't even thought about the windows. Apparently this storm was a bigger deal than we imagined.

Kingston was already getting strong winds according to IRIE. Roofs were starting to tear off and the zinc sheets would fly through the air. This was beginning to make us a bit concerned. 

We went outside to check the sea, and it was already starting to churn, producing a novelty in Negril, surfable waves! We thought it would be cool to find a surfboard, but Negril being Negril, there was never a use for a surfboard. Since the idea of surfing was a non starter, we decided to break into the beers. We had heard of hurricane parties.

The beers helped to remove the remaining edge to the hangovers, it seemed breakfast was in order. The cook had been busy making up some scrambled eggs. It hit the spot!

It was now about 9am, most of the radio announcers began losing it. Since they were all located on the eastern end of the island, they were already feeling really heavy winds and rain. Some of the stations had already gone off the air. We changed to the most informative station just in time to catch their last radio broadcast stating that "Kingston has been destro....."

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #4 Gilbert hits*The radio was finished as apparently was Kingston.

The sky was darkening as the morning passed and a rhythm of rain and wind began. First wind and rain, then still, then more wind and rain followed again by more stillness. This went on and on, relentlessly.

The groundsman and his crew had done about all they could to get the property ready for the upcoming storm. The cook seemed in as good spirits as one could hope for considering the circumstances. There was now nothing left to do but wait.

The day grew darker as noon approached. The electricity went off. It was about this time that the strong winds began to sustain themselves. The rhythmic nature of the winds and rains ceased almost as if a switch has been thrown. It was time to close up our sea front villa and ride the storm out.

We lost track of time. The day was so dark it seemed like night. The wind was howling as the rain hit the shutters harder by the minute. As minutes turned to hours, we began to realize that all of us, the locals and tourists alike, were going to experience something that none of us had before! 

The last hurricane that hit Jamaica was 1951. None of the locals were 37 yet so no one remembered Hurricane Charlie. The groundsman, being 35, remembered some of the stories he had heard growing up and related what he could about Charlie, but didn't recall all the details. None of this was making anyone feel better.

Every now and then the high wooden ceiling would snap with a loud crack! The wind and pressure were trying to rip the villa roof off. The groundsman decided to venture out to make sure everything was holding. The door to the villa was on the opposite side of the sea. Upon opening, the door nearly ripped off the hinges. We held the door as the groundsman got as low as he could and made his way outside. The door slammed shut behind him.

Waiting for what seemed like an hour, the groundsman finally knocked on the door and we cracked it open. He grabbed it and squeezed his way inside without opening the door more than absolutely necessary. He was drenched and out of breath. We pulled him in the living room area and sat him on the leather couch. 

Once he caught his breath, he explained that the wind was like nothing he had ever seen! The rain was blowing sideways, stinging his skin on any part exposed. The wind was blowing directly from the north and got stronger while he was outside.

When he got up to change his clothes, he let us know the roof looked good on all the villas. But the sea was beginning to get close to our front villa and we should get ready to move to the back villa if the water comes in.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #5 front of Gilbert*Not the most encouraging update we could have received.

There was no electricity, no fridge and the radio was on battery as long as that lasted. The roof kept wanting to come off. The sea was coming in fora frontal assault. Howling winds, sideways rains, thunder and lightning like you have never experienced. It was about that time we noticed the windows.

Never having been in a hurricane, we had no idea what to expect. And while the groundsman had mentioned plywood and the windows, we really didn't put it together until we saw it.

At this time, late afternoon, there was still enough light to detect the windows in the villa. The glass in the larger picture windows were bowing in. They were being bent inwards as if trying to come out of their frames. It was possible to push back on the window glass and feel it move back toward the outside. And then we thought about what we were doing and got away from the windows. The glass could easily shatter and severely hurt or even kill anyone nearby. 

We called the groundsman and he went to get the tape. We then made big tape X's on the windows to help keep them from bending in. Thus we found out, in our giddy stupidity, why there are X's on glass panes during hurricanes.

As the deep booming sound of the roof trying to rip itself continued every 30 seconds or so, we noticed an increasing amount of dust on the floor. At first we just thought it was brought in by the wind. But it was collecting too evenly over the entire house to be wind. The dust that had been in the roof for years was now depositing itself. It had been raining down on us all for hours. There was no way to stop it and pointless to clean it.

We had been in the hurricane winds for about 4 hours now and things were still building. The wind was getting stronger. The rain was getting heavier. The light outside was being blocked now by the dark sky. We could only see outside when the lightning flashed. Candles were our only way to get light inside... 

It was around 5 when we started to hope that the wind could not get much stronger. We couldn't take it much longer but of course we had no choice. 

There was a constant mishmash of sounds outside, dull thumps, sharp shattering and neverending smashing. Most of the sounds were coming from the northern wall and the roof. The northern wall sound was a key to help us understand the hurricane.

Finding an island map representation on a wall picture at the top of the steps, we tried to figure out where the hurricane and how much was left. The sound had been coming from the northern wall for the most part today,this had been a constant.

Not knowing which way a hurricane spun, we tried to duplicate what winds could be creating the sounds the sounds we were hearing. Spinning our fingers in a circular motion over the island map, it became apparent that the winds were coming at us from the north due to a counterclockwise rotation of the hurricane. There was no other way to explain it. And it also became apparent that Negril was going to be getting close to a direct hit! The eye would pass over close to us otherwise the winds would have been more varied.

There is no way to determine the size of a hurricane by spinning your fingers over a map, so we sat back and waited to see if our wind predictions would hold true. We didn't have to wait long because other things drew our attention...

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #6 Realization*While we were upstairs spinning our fingers and looking at the map, the storm surge from Gilbert was invading the villa. Returning back downstairs, we went into the living room area. There was limited visibility but the sloshing of our feet on the floor was unmistakable. We scrambled for the candles and found that the sea was now in the living room.

At first it was a small puddle, nothing that a mop wouldn't be able to clean up. In just a few more seconds, the time for two waves, the puddle turned into a river. It was time to move to higher ground, which was the villa behind this one.

We quickly grabbed everything we thought we would need as we tried to raise everything else off the floor. Acting more on impulse, we got ready to make the move.

The wind was screaming. There is no way to adequately describe the sound. There were projectiles of every size and description hurling through the air. Rain was so heavy that is was hard to see your hand in front of your face. And this is what we had to go through to get to the next villa.

The groundsman decided he should go first to make sure the path was clear and everything unlocked. There was no way to use anything such as an umbrella or tarp for protection, it would be ripped to shreds instantly. The only way to do it was go as fast as possible and hope for the best.

Cracking the door open, two of us braced the door. It was nearly impossible to hold. The groundsman tried to get out the door but we could not maintain the crack opening. The door slammed shut. The speed of the wind was too great, preventing us from keeping the door open. There would be no moving at this point. The storm was too wild.

The groundsman was relieved that he didn't have to go. He admitted that he thought he was not going to make it. We all silently took a moment to take in the enormity of the hurricane. This was not something to take lightly. This was a life and death situation.

The sea in the living room once again became our main concern. We all tried to come up with ideas, but in the end we decided if the worst happened, we would all move upstairs. Trying to go outside had convinced us to take the path of least resistance.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #7 Building*While we were all staring blankly at the water surging in the living room, the sounds from outside increased. The battering on the villa became constant. There was no longer a break between the impacts, just solid noise. It was impossible to grasp what was happening.

Everything we had been adjusting to for the last 6 hours had become irrelevant. This was something new, something terrifying. Horrendous clashing of howling wind, objects disintegrating, rain hammering and tremendous creaking from all areas of the villa. 

It just kept building and building with no let up. we were all shaking with unknown fear, unfocused adrenaline scoring through our brains. Someone ran to a nearby closet and we all joined them, cramped in the closet and slammed the door. Total darkness in the madness. Survival. Terror. No words. 

The villa was quaking. Two stories of concrete block shaking, the roof throbbing. Window glass shattering. More howling. The crescendo was awesome. Louder, wilder, faster...

Then quiet. We looked at each other as if to confirm we were still there. The sounds had stopped. An eerie silence filled the villa. No one made a sound. Opening the door, an odd light filled the closet.

There was light coming in the windows. Not understanding, we all snaked our way out of the closet. Looking around there was water, sand, broken glass, candle wax coming into view. The groundsman made a dash to the main door.

The door we could not hold open just a short time ago was now inviting us to go outside. Going to the door and peering out was surreal. What had seconds ago been a living nightmare was now a quiet, serene disaster. Trees, branches, planks, bricks, zinc sheets all strewn in a random yet blanketing manner across the complex.

We ventured outside. Destruction everywhere. It was hard to comprehend. No one was saying anything, trying to take in, trying to understand what we were seeing.

And then we looked up at the sky.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #8 The Eye of Gilbert*Gasping in awe, the most unbelievable sight was above us. The eye of the hurricane was directly overhead.

As if looking up from the bottom of an incredibly large bucket, a perfect circle of daylight shown above. Little wispy clouds at varying altitudes gave depth to the awesome sight. The walls of this massive bucket were a dark, grey churning mass of air currents, the winds of the eye wall. 

Gazing at the closest section, the part that had just passed looked eerily solid, moving so fast, creating an illusion of a solid wall. It was actually whipping around in enormous circular pattern. Amazing. 

Above us, the last moments of daylight were taking place. There was a sunset out there, but we couldn't see it. The pastels were highlighting the uppermost tips of the bucket cloud.

It was difficult to move around due to the water, trees and branches on the ground. The sea which had been some 50 yards from the villa was now coming up around us, we were walking in the Caribbean. 

Coconuts, wood, sections of boats and other broken items were washing in and out with each roaring wave. Sand was being deposited, covering our feet with each pass.

While we had the daylight, the groundsman was taking inventory of the damages. Noting the sea against the front villa, he instructed us to begin moving the supplies and gear to the back villa. It was at this point we noticed the wind in the eye.

Stories are told about the eye of the hurricane being calm, for Gilbert it was only calmer. Having just experienced the shrieking full force winds of the eye wall, the current winds seemed like nothing. While moving our supplies the wind was noticeable. Anything not held down would fly off and get caught up in a place out of reach due to the damage surrounding us. 

The cloud bucket kept inching its way across the sky as the light overhead dimmed while the sun dipped deeper down the unseen horizon. 

As day once again turned to night, a blinking light became visible in the sky. There was a plane flying inside of this sky bucket. What kind of fool would be flying in this?

Looking around in the semi darkness of night gave a strange sense of calm. This ceased instantly as we all began to run to the second villa. The brain reacted instinctively. As quickly as it had stopped, an enormous roaring shrieking sound came upon us. As we entered the villa we came to realize the eye wall was back.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #9 back of Gilbert*Catching our breath in the second villa, that incredible horrifying wind noise was immediately back. Screeching beyond auditory limits, there was no build up this time, just instant terror, gut wrenching screaming wind. 

But there was something different about the rebirth, something strange. As we huddled in the new villa's closet, there was a new direction for the sound. It was coming from the southern wall. The winds were now coming from the opposite direction!

The barrage of projectiles on the villa were worse than the first pass of the eye wall. There were larger sounds, thuds and explosions that rocked the building. Even with the hail of objects against the villa, being together in the small quarters gave everyone a sense of comfort for the first time in hours.

We stayed cramped in the closet while the wind wailed. Continuous cracking and thumping against the villa walls became the norm. We stayed silently in our small safety zone as the tumultuous conditions continued.

As time went on, gradually the noise outside began to slow down. When this was mentioned there was a collective sigh of relief. We could breath again. Shortly we began to feel at ease enough to talk while the worst of the winds kept winding down. 

At first we exchanged small talk in this completely lightless closet. A few jokes were made to lighten the mood, but the tension was still filling the small space. Not being able to take it any longer, the cook broke down and began to cry. Chest deep cries, hard sobbing cries. The stress of the last 7 hours had taken their toll on all of us, she was just the first to express it. 

We tried our best to comfort her in the darkness. She finally regained her composure and breathlessly said that her little girl was home alone back at their house.

We were dumbstruck.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #10 - Survivors*How could this be? Why? No one wanted to hear this devasting information. This had to be addressed as soon as the weather allowed.

It was at this moment we were no longer tourists, we became survivors. Our first duty was to help this woman find her child. 

The winds had calmed enough for us to feel secure leaving the confines of the cramped closet. 

There was no way that we could adequately feel what the cook was going through, missing her only child. We did our best to provide comfort and talked more with the cook to gain whatever insight we could into what needed to be done to assist her.

Her house was in Green Island, which was about 20 minutes north of Negril. Her neighbors watched her daughter when she was working, so she was probably with one of them. Probably. 'Probably' is a terrible thing to have to rely on. It was all she had.

The cook had no idea if the neighbors would have known the hurricane was coming. The 'probably' was sounding less probable. If the first half of the storm was any measure, there were still hours left of these wild winds. It was already into the evening, nothing would be able to be done until morning. The only thing to do was try to take her mind off this tragic situation.

The cook asked what we would like for dinner. We put a stop to that at once. We would prepare the food tonight. There is no more guest/staff concept, we are all in this together.

Dinner options were discussed by candle light and pasta was agreed upon. We still had the LP gas available for cooking and the cook had stored water earlier. The tap water had stopped before the eye hit and the groundsman had to lock off the main and turn on the tank water after the storm ended.

Dinner preparation gave us a sense of normalcy from what had so far been a harrowing experience.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #11 - Ridin' the storm out*A wonderful aroma filled the air as the winds kept whipping at the windows. Chatting and laughter joined the howling from outside. A delicious dinner party replaced the solemn silence of the safety closet. 

Candle light gave a cozy ambiance to our hurricane feast. We shared stories of growing up and the differences and similarities between US and Jamaican upbringing. Remembering fun memories from long ago was the perfect antidote to relieve the symptoms of the storm.

After dinner, the dishes were placed in the sink and the reminiscing continued around the table. The groundsman would make rounds of the villa every now and then to make sure all was secure. After a while fatigue set in and we made an attempt to sleep with the cook and groundsman sharing our beds.

Sleep was not easiliy obtained. The spent adrenaline left a residual alertness to our tired minds and bodies. Candles flickered and went out as the drafts through the shutters reminded us that the storm was not finished. Explosions against the villa seemed louder in the quiet darkness. Sleep was not going to happen tonight, but all needed rest. Lying there, taking in the sounds in the complete absence of light, everyone contemplated the events of the day in their own way.

Every now and then a huge boom would shake the building. Smaller crashes were almost not noticeable. We had been in this storm for so long that nothing seemed real anymore. The hours dragged on.

Finally, the wild winds began dying down, providing a renewed sense of hope. The storm was moving off. When the noise from outside finally reached a less alarming level, the groundsman got up from the bed to investigate the property complex. 

No one said anything but we all decided to join him. We had been in the villa long enough.

It was very early, perhaps 5 and the morning light was just beginning to produce a visible horizon. And we could hardly believed what we were witnessing.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #12 - Morning After*The early morning sky couldn't dim the destruction in front of us. As far as the eye could see, nothing looked as it did the morning before. Instead of the bright green foliage that normally framed everything, there was nothing. Nothing at all. No trees, palms, bushes, shrubs...

From the beach, you had an unobstructed view all the way across the morass to the base of the mountains. Nothing larger than the trunk of a tree that had been ripped out of the ground, laying on its side, blocked your vision. With the sun rising over the mountains breaking the night's hold, each passing minute allowed the devastation to come into better focus.

Branches and broken trees littered the ground, leaves of every description, inches deep, lay like carpet covering whatever was below. Looking north or south, you could see miles of beach. Nothing blocked your view. 

Carefully walking toward the road, where was the road? It must be there, or had it been destroyed? Slowly approaching where we last saw it, a patch of asphalt beneath a flattened palm tree gave the only sign that the road ever existed. Turning around, we could easily see the bar at the Treehouse. Not a coconut tree! No palm trees! Fences were gone. 

Walking back toward the beach at the Native Son Villas, the brick chimney of the fire pit grill was gone. Sand was piled 3 feet high against the sliding glass door of our original villa. The beach was gone. Or maybe better thought of as relocated inland by some 50 yards. Sand peeked out from under the green carpet of leaves. 

Gradually we saw other people both up and down the beach coming out to investigate, looking as stunned as we must have looked. Someone up the beach yelled, is everyone okay. No one said anything. It was a question that no one seemed to have an adequate answer. Nothing seemed okay.

We decided to walk down the beach and find out what we could.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #13 Coconut Telegraph*Overcast sky gave a drab, dreary hue to everything. The sea was wild, waves still surfable. Without the foliage, the Treehouse seemed so close. Making a path across the high sand ridge, we watched each step. There could be anything buried beneath the sand. Some steps sinking deep in the sand, sandals were proving not to be the most appropriate footwear.

Approaching the Treehouse, the beautiful coconut trees that lined their beach were gone. The thatch hut beach bar was demolished, what's left drooping sadly into the sand. A couple of staff members were clearing the leaves and branches out of the lobby area, the few guests roaming around drinking coffee. 

Treehouse had a new generator and it was being put to immediate use. The smell of coffee was enticing and we were offered a cup. To assist our cook, we inquired about the conditions of the road. The manager informed us that no staff has shown up since yesterday. Everyone there was doing double and triple shifts not knowing how long it would be until their replacements arrived.

Finishing our coffee and thanking everyone, we went back to the Native Son.

We found everyone surveying the grounds. It was a complete mess. There were boards and zinc sheets from who knows where, with the occasional sign sticking out. We found the cook and told her the bad news. She had already put the word out to everyone nearby that if anyone was heading to Green Island to check with her before they left. If she couldn't find a ride, she would try to get a message to her daughter.

Around 10am, a group came by walking on their way to Green Island. They had tried to get a ride, but no taxis were operating. The cook gave her message urgently to the group and they headed on their way. 

The bit of good news we received arrived by 2pm. A message came back from Green Island! The cook's daughter was fine and staying with the Samuels family. All was well and the Samuels were glad to know the cook was okay. 

It seemed incredible to us that the message got to Green Island and back in that short time, we had thought we wouldn't hear anything until tomorrow. This form of communication would become our lifeline to the rest of the island. 

After this wonderful news, the first day after Gilbert dragged on with overcast skys and intermittent rains. The outer bands of the hurricane were giving us their farewell notice. From time to time other survivors from farther down the beach and West End brought us updates from where they rode out the storm. Their stories sounded familiar, nothing but damage and destruction everywhere. The only other good news from that first day was that no one had died. 

That was great news indeed!

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #14 Bidding War*By sunset we were all very tired and sleep came upon us easy. We had all survived the hurricane and this knowledge removed the urgency of yesterday's chaos.

As the sun came up on Wednesday, the heat was noticeable. All the rain we had received was being transformed into steamy humidity. No clouds to break the heat, bright sun to warm the day. The groundsman was out early clearing the property, placing all the dying foliage in large piles. We joined in this clean up.

Not being used to the tropical heat, the humidity took its toll. After just a couple hours we were hot, sweaty and exhausted. Since we were not really helping all that much, the groundsman made us stop and suggested we try to find a place to relax. We didn't argue.

We decide to check out more of the beach and started south on our way down to Alfred's. The sea was calming so walking along the shore became somewhat possible. Getting to the Treehouse we noticed a mass of tourists all grabbing for something.

The Treehouse was giving away ice to anyone who wanted it. And it sounded like everyone wanted it. Apparently there was a line, but some didn't want to wait and offered to buy the free ice. The Treehouse staff was taken aback by what they were seeing. The demands of yelling tourists for ice. One man yelled, "I will give you $5 for that handful of ice!" Another one said, "I will give you $10." A bidding war had erupted.

The staff stood firm and made everyone get back in line. No one could pay for the ice, it was free. And you had to wait your turn or no one would get any ice. That threat got those without money to menace those with money , making them get back in line and shut up. Treehouse handled that well.

Further down the beach we were informed of the first death from the hurricane. But it was not from the storm but from looting. A shop owner had killed a looter and the word was out. Looters will be shot.

Alfred's was not open, nor were many places. An enterprising young entrepreneur had a cooler, ice and beer and opened up shop. Cold beers for a us$1. That was a steal in this heat! We had a couple and contemplated exploring more.

The sights and sounds were rather depressing. What was the calming, beautiful Negril we knew two days ago no longer existed. It was replaced by this ravaged jagged Caribbean coastline. Time to start thinking about getting to the airport.

We got back to Native Son about the time that we heard the first chainsaw fire up. Two property owners had gotten together and started to clear the road of debris. The road was beginning to reappear.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #15 road back to MoBay*We were scheduled to head to the airport on Thursday. That didn't seem likely with the road blocked. There was 50 miles of road between here and MoBay, so far we had seen about 200 feet cleared by the Native Son. 

We set out to see if anyone else wanted to head to the airport in the next few days. Finding a couple at the Treehouse, our total was 6. Next we needed to locate a willing driver.

There was plenty of drivers who were interested but we needed to find one that had a full tank of gas in the van. After a couple days, we settled on a driver and proceeded to make final plans for the journey.

The plan was to set out early Saturday mornings. From our previous experience the ride to the airport would take between 4 and 5 hours. This would not be on the new road that anyone who has visited Negril since the early 2000's, but the old road that snaked its way along the coastline. 

Days passed and the air filled with the smell of death. There was rotting fruit from the downed trees and carcasses of animals that did not make it through the hurricane. It was a very unsettling aroma.

By Saturday, as we had hoped, the boulevard was free to traverse.This was not due to any government assistance, but from the diligent work of the local owners taking care of their own areas. We knew there would be some places that we would need to clear so we had several pairs of work gloves on hand in the van. We also kept a supply of soft drinks ready. There was no such thing as bottled water yet in Negril.

Just before dawn the driver picked us up. We met the other couple at the Treehouse and started our trek. The ride started smoothly. As with Negril, the trees were down everywhere and that same pungent odor filled the air. It was smooth sailing to Green Island where we encountered the one lane bridge. There was no traffic so we made it easily over the bridge and continued heading north.

Our progress was slow, but steady. The road had been cleared rather well most of the way to Lucea. There were only a few spots where we had to stop and move some trees and boards out of our path.

At Lucea, traffic was non-existent. The driver stopped at the gas station but there was no gas because of the lack of current. No way to pump the gas. The driver seemed a bit tense but assured us that all was fine. We each had a warm soft drink and started back on our way.

From Lucea the trip started fine. but soon the road was blocked. There were already a few groups from the neighboring areas clearing stretches so we joined in. Soon we were on our way. 

As we went up a small hill, once again we had to get out and clear the way. This was a bit more difficult, especially when we noticed that we were actually in a driveway, we could make out the main road beneath us toward the sea. There were no initial indications that this was someone's yard as the house had been ripped away and dashed against a group of trees about 100 yards away down a ravine. We backed down the drive and got to work on the main road.

We had been on the road for nearly 12 hours now and had not reached Mobay. It was getting dark so we found a spot to park and spent the evening under the stars. It was a forced camping situation but all in all not a bad place to be. 

As the sun rose in the morning, we headed out. There were more places blocked, more boards and zinc to move, but we continued on. As we approached a hill near Sandy Bay, the van began to sputter and rolled to a stop, up hill. We were out of gas.

No one said anything. What was there to say? We all got out of the van and wandered around for a minute when we heard the sound of a truck horn behind us. Like a wish that was granted, a gasoline truck came up the hill and parked in front of us. After greeting us, the truck driver pulled out the hose and filled up our gas tank. He refused money, told us to have a great day and drove off. Now you don't see that happen every day.

The road from Sandy Bay into MoBay was clear and made an easy trip into town. The traffic lights were out so it made crossing the intersections interesting. 

At the top of the high road we spotted the airport!

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #16 The Airport*It felt like weeks, but after a 4 day delay, we were finally at the airport. Time had been dragging on. The idea of a vacation ended nearly a week ago replaced by survival mode instincts. Pleasure was replaced by pragmatism. Seeing the airport was as close to a moment of pleasure that we had experienced in days. But even with that there were mixed feelings.

Any experience like this creates camaraderie between survivors. There is a undeniable bond between people who go through the same disaster. We were now leaving these people, who had become such a big part of our lives. Leaving was good for all, it was now time for all the Jamaican people to focus on healing their crippled country and for us to get out of their way. We also had family and friends back home to contact and let know that we were okay.

Coming down the upper road before the airport, the van made the loop around the roundabout. Passing the gas station outside the airport, we had made the journey.

Chaos greeted us as we lumbered out of the van. There were no skycaps, no police, no security, only tourists wandering around aimlessly.

The departure area was wide open. There was no need for doors as there were no walls. The giant sliding glass walls had been raised and people were walking everywhere. 

We overheard that British Airways had been flying for the last couple days, so our hopes were raised that Delta may be able to get a flight.

Seeing the mass of people, we decided to send just one of us to the Delta counter. Gathering the tickets, they forced their way through the crowd to the line at the counter. 

The Delta schedule boards were empty but a rep was manning the counter. It was going to be a long wait but there was nothing else to do. In the meantime, the rest of us found a spot on the floor to camp out. 

We made ourselves as comfortable as possible on the hard hot dirty floor of the departure area.

After a couple hours it was our turn at the counter. Going to the counter, tickets were presented and the situation was explained. There were no flights today, but should be one tomorrow. All the seats have been taken for this Monday flight. 

Two flights were proposed for Tuesday but nothing certain. Positive information continued to be hard to come by since Gilbert had struck.

We started to rethink the idea of hurrying to the airport. We should have waited. There was no way out.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #17 Bribes, Booze and News...*The heat of the afternoon depleted our drink supply and we hadn't had food for hours. But as with everyone else, we tried to make the best of the situation.

As the sun set on the Sangster International Airport, we arranged beds using the clothes in our luggage. Since there was no airport security, we would take turns as our own security. 

Not that it really mattered as no one slept much at all. As morning came we were tired, hungry and hot. But laying there during the night had given us an increased urgency. We didn't want to spend another night at Sangster, so we came up with an idea. Pooling our cash, we had $1400. Let's see what that would buy us.

Using the confusion all around us and finding a Delta employee, questions were asked and a conversation ensued. Other employees were introduced and more discussion. This went on for a relatively short time when one of the Delta ticketing personnel came and said that we could all get a seat for a fee, in cash. Handing over the money, the ticket agent went off. With any bribe, it is a gamble. There was a chance we had just thrown away our money. 

It wasn't long before they came back and gave us 4 boarding passes. For US$250 a piece, we had just bribed our way onto the next flight. The first flight out on Delta after Gilbert.

The flight was set to take off at 2:45. We still had 6 hours to go. 

The complete chaos of yesterday had become merely substantial chaos today. By 10am, a local baker had come by with coco bread for everyone, no charge. It was quite a treat. Another vendor was selling box drinks. Food in the belly had gone a long way to raise the mood of the crowd.

A group of British Airline passengers had already gone off on their flight back to the UK. We had learned more about British Air, they were flying in supplies and leaving with passengers. Very efficient. They were also the first planes to arrive in Jamaica after Gilbert. Give it up for the Queen!

Around noon we gathered all our clothes and put them back in the suitcases. Taking turns, we washed up in the restrooms. We took note of ourselves in the mirror and decided we looked no worse than anyone else. Flight fashion was not a priority today.

At 2pm, boarding for the Delta flight began. We walked around to the back and piled our luggage outside with the others. 

Nervously we handed over our boarding passes. Without even a gaze, we were ushered to the line to climb the steps to the plane. 

The air conditioning in the plane was a welcome feeling. After days of being in the heavy humity after Gilbert, this was perfect. The seats were comfortable. While we were on the runway, the stewardress came by and took our drink orders. 

Apparently the dropping of regulations applied to more than just check in.

A cold beer hit the spot. The captain came on and announced that we would be ready to go a few minutes early and would be arriving at JFK by 6pm.

As the plane taxied down the runway, the cabin filled with applause. We were on our way back home.

The flight was smooth and uneventful. Drinks were flowing quite liberally, one last chance for that vacation feeling. As with take off, upon landing there was jubilant applause from the passengers.

Walking the jetway to the terminal, we were welcomed back to NYC by the Delta staff. Smiles and a warm greeting brought a sense of comfort. Collecting our luggage, I noticed the strong urge to get rid of the beer that had been consumed during the past 4 hours. I told my travel partners that I was going to make a mad dash to the restroom and watch my luggage.

Just as i was sprinting off, I was blinded by bright white lights! The network news was interviewing the first passengers off the first flight from Jamaica!

With wide eyes and rapid fire speech, the interview took place in the JFK terminal.

And that is how I ended up on the NBC Nightly News.

----------


## Rob

*Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #18 Afterword*This account was written on the 30th anniversary of Hurricane Gilbert. There was no preplanning and no consent was given by the others involved. Thus I included no individual names.

It was the first time in decades that I had seriously thought about what had transpired during those days. Making sure I mentioned the main points, hundreds of things long forgotten were remembered but not recorded in this version. That is for the rewrite.

Some odd things did take place. My Mom was worried about us and called our state representative. He told her that we were all okay. Only thing was, we were completely cut off from anyone after the hurricane and he could not have known how we were at all. He is dead now so no reason to give his name.

The experience was life changing. Gilbert was the main reason that I chose to move to Jamaica.

Thanks for reading.

----------


## limeex2

> *Thirty Years Ago on the Beach - #18 Afterword*This account was written on the 30th anniversary of Hurricane Gilbert. There was no preplanning and no consent was given by the others involved. Thus I included no individual names.
> 
> It was the first time in decades that I had seriously thought about what had transpired during those days. Making sure I mentioned the main points, hundreds of things long forgotten were remembered but not recorded in this version. That is for the rewrite.
> 
> Some odd things did take place. My Mom was worried about us and called our state representative. He told her that we were all okay. Only thing was, we were completely cut off from anyone after the hurricane and he could not have known how we were at all. He is dead now so no reason to give his name.
> 
> The experience was life changing. Gilbert was the main reason that I chose to move to Jamaica.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


What a incredibly written story. Thank you for sharing it with us.

----------


## Annie2479

Loved this story, Rob. Thank you so much for sharing it. I was an Ohio transplant, living in Southern CA in September 1988 (now back in Ohio). Your detailed description of living through Hurricane Gilbert in Negril, the aftermath of the hurricane and your departure from Jamaica and back to the states made me feel as if I were there. It's understandable how that experience helped you decide to eventually make Negril your home.

----------


## paradisesound

Such a nice story!  So reminds me of the time I spent there.

----------

