Following are pictures from our experience of Hurricane Isabel,
on September 18 and 19, 2003. We feel very fortunate that neither we, our friends,
nor our home suffered any real damage from this dangerous storm.
Below are three pictures from the northeast beach, two blocks from our house, taken
on a beautiful, breezy, summer day, several weeks before Isabel arrived.
The Chesapeake Bay, toward Baltimore and the Francis Scott Key Bridge
Looking southeast along the same beach. Note the water level, which was at
high tide on that particular day. This water level is six feet below the lawn's edge.
View across the water, toward Bethlehem Steel's Sparrows Point plant.
The same view, at 8 AM on September 18. The wind at this point was out
of the northeast, at 20 mph. Hurricane Isabel was still 7 hours from landfall
along the North Carolina coast.
At 8 AM, a view toward the northeast. The winds were building more than could be
explained by Hurricane Isabel at this point. The cause was rapid wind flow from
a high pressure center over New England, toward the eye of Isabel, hundreds of
miles away. Isabel had become a huge "air suction vacuum," pulling air at
high speed from the high pressure zone and past us.
View from the southeast beach, again, toward the northeast, at 8:15 AM. The
waves at this point were three feet tall, the tallest I had ever seen them
on the Bay since moving here in July, 2003.
A more easterly view from the same beach. Note the old shed (on stilts) out
in the water. This delapidated structure serves as a nesting area for large
birds (like heron and osprey), as well as water fowl.
This picture was taken at 3 PM (7 hours later than the previous pictures),
from the northeast beach. The wind was now at 35 mph, gusting to 45.
The waves had built to a height of four feet.
Another view from the same beach, at 3 PM. The tropical storm force wind-field
of Isabel was impinging upon us. Isabel had just made landfall in
North Carolina with fifty foot waves as a Category Two hurricane.
By that night, the winds, still from the northeast, had climbed to 45 mph with
gusts to 60 mph. The waves on the bay were now at six feet. We walked to the beach
around 10 PM, and it was hard to stand against the winds and driven spray. I have
no pictures from this stormy venture. During it, we saw trees collapsing, as well
as numerous blue flashes and sparks as countless transformers were shorting out
in the surrounding neighborhoods. The wind was intense enough to support one's
weight. Our power cut out just before midnight, on
September 18. I awoke at 1 AM to hear the house creaking. The winds had shifted to
the southeast, and were fierce, with driven rain, branches, and leaves pelting the
house. I knew that the tidal surge had begun, up the Chesapeake, as Isabel's winds
were piling the water up into the bay from the south. It was pitch black outside,
and all I could see were more blue transformer explosions, while hearing the sizzling
of live downed wires off in the distance. The wind howled continuously, at times close to
hurricane force. I listened to our emergency radio by lantern light, hearing of
mandatory beach community evacuations just 20 miles to our south, and of grim
predictions of a storm surge that was becoming much higher than expected. The surge
had been predicted to be 6 feet, on top of the high tide, in addition to 6 foot waves.
In reality, the surge alone, further south, was well over 12-14 feet (vertical height
increase), translating to an inland flow that inundated whole communities. The worst
part of weathering this storm was the long duration of the high winds. I had witnessed
cloud bursts before, with momentary high winds, but the winds from this storm remained
intense for over fifteen hours straight.
Friday morning, September 19, at 8 AM, from our driveway. The eye of Isabel was now racing through
Pennsylvania, and the winds near our house were from the south at 30 mph
and declining.
A view to the north, at 8 AM, with our house to the right. Just three or four miles to our north,
two power-generating stations were cranking out several billion watts of electricity while we were
without power. If I only had a long enough extension cord...
Refer back to the first picture on this web page. This is the water, viewed in the same
direction, from the northeast beach, three hours AFTER high tide, with the tidal surge in effect.
Note that all of the steps, piers, and rocks visible in previous photos are completely submerged.
A view to the east, as a glorious sun broke through and illuminated the waters of the Chesapeake.
The worst was over.
A view of the Key Bridge, showing the flooding.
Another view, in the same direction, showing how high the water had come just a couple hours earlier.
A few hours after this picture was taken, young boys (8 - 12 years old) from our community were raking up all this trash,
and, by early afternoon, it had all been cleaned up.
Along the southeast beach, the water had risen amazingly high. Note the tiny post sticking out of the water,
in the middle of this creek feeding into the bay. The previous shoreline had extended to only halfway between
this post and the current shoreline.
View to the east, showing a set of hand rails that once stood at the top of a set of wooden stairs leading down to the water.
The water here had risen well over eight feet.
The previous shoreline once lay about fifty feet beyond the tree near the right edge of this image.
Another view of the flooding, including a stairway that once led to the water from a boardwalk.
A view to the south. Note the sailboat apparently sitting in the water. Actually, this boat is
moored to a dock that once stood at least six feet above the bay.
Street signs, two blocks from our house, that were bent by the wind.
Debris left behind by receding flood waters.
Another view of the debris.
Sections of boardwalk (once running along the previous shoreline), torn free and
left behind by the slowly receding waters.
A garden faerie and three children, kept safe from the storm by some kind soul who
placed them inside
a plastic bucket.
Our power was restored at 3 PM, September 19, days before we expected it to be restored.
Numerous power repair crews had come from out west to aid in the disaster recovery.
We saw many trucks with Missouri plates, their crews driving around and repairing downed lines.
Millions of homes lost power in the storm, and the current death toll is 23 and rising (as of
the composition of this web page). All said, it could have been far worse. Isabel had once
been a Category 5 hurricane, with maximum sustained winds of 160 mph, before lessening in strength
to 105 mph upon making landfall.
The Chesapeake underwent the worst flooding in recorded history from this storm. The fact that
our house stood well above the highest flood waters gives me a renewed sense of confidence
that we are indeed (as the FEMA flood maps indicated) NOT in a flood zone, despite living only
2.5 blocks from the Chesapeake. Major flooding occurred in downtown Baltimore, Washington DC,
Alexandria Virginia, Annapolis, and many areas further south.
In this picture, a super tanker moves past the outer fringes of Isabel, when she was still far out at sea.
Isabel, a ferocious beast of a storm, at Category Five on the Saffir Simpson Scale, with maximum sustained
winds of 160 mph and gusts to 195 mph.
Please email the author.