Out of the Pattern: The Rehearsal

I?m lucky. I have a hurricane action plan for my family and my airplanes, but all I?ve ever had to do were dress rehearsals. The morning after Hurricane Georges brushed past New Orleans?s Lakefront Airport, however, Million Air Division Manager Addie Fanguy came out on the ramp, sighed, and shook his head. The city engineer?s decision in the height of the storm left him with three flooded hangars and a mostly-destroyed FBO building. Five days and much hard work later Million Air reopened its doors to business. The bill, however, was $11 million in property damage.

Fanguy?s day-after despair was probably second only to that of Kermit Weeks the morning after Hurricane Andrew blew by Homestead, Florida, six years ago. Andrew destroyed an entire museum?s worth of airplanes and trailed destruction that cost billions of dollars to repair.

I sweated out both Andrew and Georges and both times was fortunate enough to register only near misses. As a result I?m especially wary of the next storm that heads in my direction. Probability says that somewhere there?s a hurricane with my hometown?s name on it.

To combat this nagging worry I?ve concocted a plan. Anyone who lives in an area vulnerable to tropical weather would be wise to do the same. Mine?s simple, and so far, without ever having to test it too much, it works. First, I?m a weather watcher. When a tropical storm is brewing I compulsively check the weather via computer. I begin preparations when a storm is 1,000 miles away and the high pressure and low-pressure systems drifting over the continental U.S. are aligned in such way that they will draw the whirling mass of rain and wind my way.

Generally, hurricanes move slowly, which gives me ample time to stock up on water, batteries, and canned goods. All the time I watch the storm. I watch forecasts 120 hours out; I watch satellite imagery; I compare different weather bureau?s forecast tracks. When the storm comes within 700 miles and the probability of it striking here climbs above 10 percent, I start looking at my sectional charts, searching for a place to flee to.

Here on Florida?s Gulf Coast I?ve got my airplanes tucked in a dry, safe hangar. I?ve got a house built to a new (post-hurricane Andrew) construction code, and a generator. If the storm doesn?t get too big, I?m safe here. That makes my preparation chores small compared to those that others face. But there?s always a scramble when it?s storm-time.

Those who can get their birds inside the few hangars available at local airports often tie them down or chock all three wheels and flatten the tires a bit, just in case the hangar?s metal siding peels open and lets the wind in. Those who can?t get their aircraft inside have been seen to double and triple-tie their aircraft to the tarmac. A few tried tying two-by-fours and planks to their wings in an effort to disrupt any lift the wind might generate. In the wake of hurricane Andrew, however, it was all for naught. Nary a single airplane on the ramp at Tamiami-Kendall airport survived unscathed.

Hurricane Andrew proved that aircraft hangars, too, are no match for a full-out blow. For that reason I base my ?fight or flight? reaction on the size of the looming storm. If it is a level three or higher, I?m out of here. My family, airplane, and I plan to leave before the weather exceeds either of our capabilities. Generally, that means around 24 hours before the worst of the storm hits. That?s plenty of time to fly the three or more hours it?ll take to get away from any forecast swings the hurricane might take.

Why go so far away? Remember that nice, dry hangar I just abandoned? As the storm approaches I probably won?t find another one for 500 miles or more in any direction. Imagine how sad I?d feel watching thunderstorms thrown off by the spinning behemoth beat up my airplane. If I?m going to run, it?ll be to blue skies far away from any threat. That just makes sense.

Other people?s experience has shown me that strong storms such as Georges and Andrew are not to be toyed with. The only way to assure that your precious possessions are safe is to prepare early, watch closely, and then, if you must, use your airplane as a packhorse and get yourself and all you can carry to safe haven. You?ll never feel silly if the hurricane takes a turn and spares you ? trust me. You?ll just feel lucky, as I do, that you?ve practiced so well.