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!

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