Should we stay or should we go? Lindsay McRory September 14, 1996 Satellite positioning of Hurricane Hortense 5 pm EDT September 9 5 am EDT September 10 11 am EDT September 10 5 am EDT September 11 Most of the season's hurricanes have passed easily by us. Hurricane Hortense was a different story. Forecasts issued on September 9 showed the hurricane passing on the south side of the Dominican Republic. Hortense was then expected to jump over a 6,000-foot-high mountain range and hit us from the south. Given the elevation of the mountains, few locals expected this to really happen; either Hortense would stay south or it would break up well before it reached our anchorage in Luperon. The September 10 morning forecast showed Hortense hitting Puerto Rico then crossing the Mona passage and passing close, but still safely to the north of us. No problem, we thought. But it was time for precautions. The big decision was whether to tie into the mangroves or sit it out on anchors. For the big hurricanes, tying into the mangroves is usually safer. Given the path and fairly low strength of Hortense we decided to set three anchors with lots of anti-chaff protection for the Hakuna Matata. We set our anchors, and stripped the deck of everything including all sails and awnings. We left our halyards up, but most boats pulled them down. It was just a matter of waiting now. The sky darkened, scattered showers and gusting winds visited us throughout the afternoon. We received the 11 a.m. forecast at 3 p.m. and it showed the eye of Hortense passing right over us. The satellite picture was even worse. It looked like we were going to get nailed. We really wanted to be in the mangroves but there was no time. The way our anchors were set it would take us a few hours to retrieve them. We either had to cut away the anchors and buoy them, or wait it out. It was now 7 p.m. and the hurricane would probably be right over us by midnight, certainly by 2 a.m. Sorting through this decision was the worst part of the preparations. There are so many things to consider. In the end, we decided to stay on our hooks. The main reason: We did not have time to properly set up in the mangroves, so we would have been worse off than staying put. The second reason was our barometer had not dropped in four hours. The hurricane was certainly moving, and if it was moving toward us, we would expect to see at least a two to four millibar drop in four hours. So what happened? It rained a little and we had a few wind gusts. Hortense missed us by 70 nautical miles. "No problemo," as they say. Even though nothing happened, I think it was a mistake for us to stay on our hooks. It is not that much work to set up in the mangroves. The next time we face this situation, we will set up in the mangroves early. During the hurricane approach our best sources of information were our barometer and the ham radio. Ham radio operators maintain a hurricane network on 14325 kHz and provide continuous position information as well as numerous field reports. After Hortense passed, our friends in Canada thought that we had received a direct hit with devastating results. The media reports were severely exaggerated. Parts of the far southeast coast of the Dominican Republic were hit fairly hard, but sustained no serious damage. Initial reports said that power, water, and phone services were cut out all along the north coast. And while power, water, and phone services go out frequently--usually a couple times a day--it had nothing to do with Hurricane Hortense. The next day after moving gear back on deck we quickly fell back into the daily grind.