Oh, believe me, it’s out there. Those waves, although they’re the only obvious sign that there is anything out of the ordinary, are much larger than normal. The world of modern media and the natural world are quite divided today. I can certainly understand how hurricanes could come up out of nowhere back in the 1900’s and wipe this place out with thousands of deaths. It’ll be here in soon enough and yet it’s invisible.
On the other hand, we’re glued to the weather reports, getting virtual updates almost minute by minute, making us dither between making our escape and staying put to wait it out. I almost prefer the ignorance.
Of course, we’re in a rare position, five floors up in a hurricane designed building with a strong confidence that we can ride though it with no harm. That’s not the case for most of the town of 85,000 behind us. Worst case could put Galveston on the disaster map right with New Orleans and the Mississippi coast. That’s why they ordered the evacuation.
But … this is a hurricane. When we headed down here, landfall was aimed at Galveston. When we got here, it was nearly down to Corpus Christi. As we watched it came back north. By the time it hits, it may target High Island just like the last one did. Cross your fingers. For the sake of the city, landfall to the north would be great. Dither some more, Ike.
We’re sweating it out in Alvin, and to tell the truth, I’m a little nervous. If it will just go a bit east of Galveston, I’ll be a happy guy.
I noticed that Alvin was specifically expempted from the evacuation orders. I assume it’s because you have enough elevation to avoid the surge floods?