Paula Does Vila: A Bad Weather Tale

Rainbow over Port Vila Before Paula

It had been hot and steamy for weeks.  Everyone was saying that a cyclone was near.  There was nothing on the Fiji Met Services website that indicated that.  Still I heard over and over again that one was surely coming.  In fact, I had been hearing such predictions since December and frankly, I was starting to think that I should get in on the action. The average for Vanuatu is 2 and a half cyclones a year.  We had had only one very small one last year, none this year.  So, the odds were in favour of the doomsayers being right.    As usual, though, I analysed just a bit too long and missed my opportunity to be Vanuatu’s very own Nostradamus. 

In the early hours of Tuesday 27 February 2001, Cyclone Paula was born in the waters between the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu.  It had appeared as a tropical depression a day or so before, but having watched several of these form over the past few weeks only to see them fizzle or head back toward Australia, I had given up on monitoring them.  Of course, that should have been my first clue that this one would be different.

You see, I’ve never been in a cyclone before and while it is probably a bit bizarre, I didn’t want to leave Vanuatu without experiencing at least one.  Ok, bizarre is probably not the right word.  The word most long timers here were using for me was crazy, but then they had been through a few before and probably forgotten the excitement of their first.

I don’t know what it is, maybe it is the power of Mother Nature, but whatever it is, cyclones, hurricanes, earthquakes and the like interest me.  Every time the rumble of an earthquake starts up – here you always here the rumble through the coral beneath first before the movement starts – the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  I watch for the first movement and wonder if this is it – the big one!  So, far I have been disappointed on the earthquake front and that is probably very lucky considering we live in a house with a metal roof and concrete block walls.  It probably would not be a good look to have all that tumbling down around me or on top of me for that matter.

Still I figured a small cyclone would not be too bad.  I had had two near cyclone experiences – one fizzer last year and one in 1972.  The ’72 experience was truly a disaster.  That year, the remnants of Hurricane Agnes parked itself over New York State sending so much water down the Susquehanna River that it had its worst flooding in over 100 years.  I remember that year vividly.  I was going around openly hoping it would flood.  Dumb?  Yes, we only lived three blocks from the dikes that were suppose to keep the river in check, but hey, I was only 10. 

As it turned out, the dikes were not high enough that year and sure enough our house got flooded.  Only about a foot of the roof of our split level house managed to stay out of the water, and everything we moved from the lower level of the house to the upper got soaked and covered in layers of mud.

You would have thought I had learned my lesson, but not this puppy.  When I heard Paula had formed and was suppose to move due south for a while before moving east I was a little disappointed since that meant it was probably going to miss us.  Being a little older now, I was smart enough not to go around saying that, though.

Preparing for Cyclone Paula

Just in case, we started low level preparations.  You never know what a cyclone will do.  They can change direction at the drop of a hat.  We got the gardener, Charlie, to clean out the gutters and move the plants on the deck into the area that gets closed off with shutters.  I went into town and got some supplies, candles, batteries, cat food and human food too.  Charlie also got out the wooden shutters from under the deck and put them out near the windows that they were to cover should Paula come our way. 

Our artist friends, Michou and Aloi had invited us to lunch to meet some people visiting from New Zealand.  So, about noon I headed off to their place.  There were some dark clouds off in the distance, but otherwise the sun was shinning and the temperature was once again on the way up.

On the way over, I listened to the Radio Vanuatu news and they said Paula was currently 200 kms north west of Santo and was heading south.  It was expected to pass over Southern Vanuatu in 48 hours.  I wondered what was considered “Southern Vanuatu.”   I mean, Efate is kind of in the middle, but maybe it could be considered “Southern”. 

We had a lovely lunch of Tahiti fish salad, cooked bananas, taro and yams.  It rained briefly, but by the time we left the sun was out again.

I continued checking the 6 hourly cyclone warning issued by the Fiji Met Service throughout the day.  When we went to bed, Paula was still headed south and expected to pass over Aneityum in 48 hours.  Aneityum is a few hundred kilometres south of Efate.  So, I now knew what they meant by “Southern Vanuatu.”

The alarm went off at 5:30 the next morning.  I listened for the sound of rain on the roof, but there was none.  It was darker than normal.  There was no burst of sun through the supposed blackout curtains.  So, I figured it was cloudy, but with no rain, my walking partner, Shari, would be outside waiting for me in a few minutes.  So, I got up, got dressed and headed out the door.  I met Shari at the gate and that was when it started to drizzle.

Since we were already up at that ungodly hour, we decided to do the walk anyway.  I went back inside got two umbrellas and we headed off.  I took a few steps, and popped the umbrella up. The little metal gizmo on the top that keeps it all together, popped off and rocketed into the air collapsing my umbrella.  This was an omen – weather protection gear not in working order, beware – but I didn’t see it at the time.  I just got another umbrella and off we went.

The clouds were quite thick and to the north the sky over the mountains was almost black.  The wind had also picked up and you could tell that Paula was getting closer.  After the walk, I turned the computer on and checked out the latest bulletin to see what Paula had been up to over night.

The predictions of southerly movement had been wrong.  Over night Paula had veered east and was now just off the coast of Santo and expected to move south easterly.  Aneityum was saved, but now Efate was potentially directly in its path.  My excitement levels rose – secretly, of course.  I told Rob this and Mr Calm-Cool-and-Collected, brushed it off and said he was sure it would miss us.

By about 9:30, the winds were getting stronger.  The trees and other plants in the garden had started a regular rustling.  The avocados on the tree over the kitchen were banging away on the roof and the now sustained winds were keeping all the fronds on the palm trees down the road blowing in a westerly direction.  It was starting to look like a cyclone should.

I had just been to the market and there had been a lot more people there than there had been yesterday.  Everyone was stocking up now, not just the uninitiated like me.  I was amazed to find, however, that there were one or two people who still had no idea that Paula was on the way.  I told at least two people about it as I picked up more candles and dinner.  I guess they don’t listen to the radio.

When I got back home I got word from Rob that there had just been a flash alert on the news.  Paula had picked up speed and was going to pass over Vanuatu just to the north of Efate in the late afternoon or early evening.

Garage Door Cyclone Shutters

Charlie was in the process of putting up the wooden shutters and I started putting down some of the roll down shutters.  We have three types of shutters the old fashioned wooden ones on some of the smaller windows and the front door, roll down aluminium ones over most of the windows and around the deck and two big garage doors that get pulled down over the big windows in the dinning room/ lounge area.

There was no real rain yet and the winds were not that strong, so we took advantage of the weather to get most of the shutters up or down as the case might be.  There was no way I wanted to get caught like we did last year when the munchkin cyclone, Iris, passed to the north of Efate.

On the night Iris passed by, we got a phone call at 1 am from the neighbour who called to say Charlie had come to put up their shutters because an alert had been given.   We thought, “Well, how nice of him.”  Rob said, yes and Rob and I got up and went out into the pouring rain to help Charlie put them up.  There were more wooden ones and fewer roll down ones last year and wet, the wooden ones are even heavier.  Rob and I did most of the work, lugging the wooden ones out and slipping them into place where Charlie told us.  He has worked here for years and knew the drill.  We were absolutely soaked by the time we came back in, but glad to know there would be no trees smashing through the windows.

The next morning when Rob went into the office, he discovered Charlie actually gets paid to come out and do the shutters when the alert is given.  So, basically we’d been had.  I considered suggesting that maybe Rob and I should get the cheque, but decided that might look a bit churlish. 

So, suffice it to say, that I had no guilt watching Charlie put the wooden shutters up all by himself, while I took the easy job of winding down the other ones.

The schools closed at lunch, so I took Marie, the housekeeper, over to the school to pick up her niece, Anais.  Anais is 6 so as far as her memory goes this was going to be her first cyclone too.  She was very talkative on the way home.  This is not normal.  Usually, you can’t even get a “Good morning” out of her.  Her biggest concern was that all the flowers were coming off the trees and bushes and she didn’t want any thunder.  She doesn’t like thunder.

By the time we got back, the house was basically closed up.  I had heard it gets quite hot inside during a cyclone, so I figured I would alleviate that little problem by turning the air-conditioning on in a few strategic rooms – the bedroom and living room.  At least, we would be cool.

Cyclone Paula announces she's on the way

Most businesses were closing down, but Rob called to say he would be staying at the office a little longer – surprise, surprise.   About two o’clock, Charlie had finished up at the neighbours and I took him home.  The wind was really blowing at this point.  Trees were already coming down.  As we came to the bend near Malopoa College, I had to manoeuvre around fallen banana and papaya trees.  The road up to Charlie’s place was a raging river by this time, but we made it up and then, I headed home.

As I rounded the corner at Malapoa College I came upon some teenagers playing in the puddle that had formed in the road.  They were dancing around and splashing water all over.  It was all quite festive, really.

Our Outdoor Fruit Bowl

Rob finally got home about three.  The wind and rain were really picking up by this point.  The banging of the avocados had stopped and when I went out back to save a few orchids, I found out why.  The avocados, the papaya and the neighbour’s grapefruit had turned the side walkway into a huge bowl of fruit salad.  Smashed fruit was everywhere and this was only the beginning of the cyclone.  The radio news had just said it wasn’t due to hit until eight that night!

I was now watching two websites to see where Paula was headed – the Fiji site and the French Meteo site in Noumea.  Fiji said it would pass to the east and Meteo to the west.  The Vanuatu Met Service was saying over the radio that it would pass to the north.  All they really agreed on was that it was going to be close.

We had dinner and watched Part III of the BBC documentary Elizabeth.  The wind was roaring away by this time, but the rain wasn’t pounding yet.  With the way the wind was whipping up, I guessed the rain might have been getting blown sideways and therefore over the roof.  Paula had slowed again and now the centre, where the winds are worst, was not due in Vila until sometime between midnight and 3 am.  Paula was getting stronger with each passing hour as well.  The cyclone warnings kept saying as it neared an island that the interaction with the coral island ‘x’ would cause it to weaken.  The next report following the interaction with said island would say it had had no effect, but the next island might cause it to weaken.  We were about out of islands between us and the storm.  We were in for a long night.  Still with the shutters in place and the air-conditioners running, we were snug as a bug in a rug.

By quarter to nine the wind and rain, yes you could hear the rain now, on the roof was so loud it sounded like a very long freight train was passing over it.  I checked the latest bulletins on the Fiji and Noumea websites.  They finally agreed on a path.  Cyclone Paula (video) was coming right through the middle of Efate, although the Vanuatu Met Service was still projecting it would pass to the North.

I went out to the deck to check the shutters.  When the shutters are down around one section of the deck, it forms a little room that plants, deck furniture and other outdoor things can be put in to protect them from the wind.  The shutters were there for Iris, but since that wasn’t a real cyclone, I decided to check them.  I always thought they were a bit flimsy and when I got out there I learned sadly that I had been right.  The one at the far end of the deck had already blown out of its track at the bottom.  I went and got Rob and we manoeuvred it back into the track.  My excitement was turning into unease.

After we came back inside, I stood there at the door watching the shutters shake with each blast of wind.  The glass doors behind the garage door shutters were also bending with the gusts.  Mr Calm-Cool-and-Collected told me to come away from the window. “There is nothing we can do about it, now,” he said.

I went back to the video, but a few minutes later the power went out.  With no distractions, the roar of the storm got louder just as the room went dark.  Now there was nothing to do, but light some candles and twiddle our thumbs.  I took a torch and went out to the kitchen.

As I passed the doors to the deck, I noticed a little black patch where there should have been cream coloured shutter.  I flashed the light out and not really to my surprise saw that the middle shutter had popped out of the middle of its track.  As the wind whipped around on the other side, the gap widened and closed.  It was not going to be long before the whole thing went and once one went the other three were sure to go.

I told Rob and he went out to investigate.  Next thing I knew, he was standing there trying to push the gap closed and hold it closed.  When the gusts hit he moved back with the shutter so you could see it was a fruitless attempt.  I told him to get his butt inside and he said he was concerned about the house.

Shutters give in to Paula

I thought for a second, because I needed to get the words just right and then I said, “There is nothing we can do about it, now” and added “Now, get your ass in here!”  The storm was not at its peak yet and I had visions of a big gust of wind coming that would throw the shutter and Rob right through the windows behind.

Within 10 minutes, the middle shutter had blown out.  It had pulled completely out of its box and track and was lying on the plants and deck furniture.  The other three shutters were shredded with the pieces still connected flapping away.  We had a great view of the harbour now though.  You could really see what was happening out there.  Rob, however, was very disturbed that the town still had its lights on.  Each time the rain blotted out the lights on the other side of the harbour Rob would say, “Yes, they’ve lost them.”  But then, the rain tapered off and the lights were still there.

Anyway, once the shutters were gone, Rob taped the windows and proceeded to open all the internal doors to equalise the pressure.  This kind of foiled my plan to keep a few rooms cool during the whole thing.  It was dark, exceedingly hot and very noisy.

The concern now was, that this was the beginning of the wind not the height.  The centre wasn’t due until midnight or so.  The last tacking before we lost power had it coming right for us.  It was intensifying with winds up to 180 kms per hour and we had no shutters at on a big chunk of the house.  This wasn’t fun anymore.  If a window broke from the wind or something hitting it, what just happened to the shutters would happen inside.

Rob was getting more concerned about damage to the house.  I, however, took the view that since we don’t own it and Rob’s employers obviously took the cheap option on the shutters – screw the house!  For all I cared, the house could fly off to the wonderful Land of Oz as long as he and I and our things were not in it at the time.

Having had the 1972 flood experience I knew there were only certain things that can’t be replaced.  So, I set about collecting photos, financial documents, and computer disks and put them in a bag.  I also packaged up the computer.  The plan was move it into the truck in the garage, which was separate from the house.

Leave Splatter and Trusted Cyclone Shutter

In the end the move was not necessary.   Despite all the whistles and bells of the Fiji and Noumea met services, the Vanuatu Met Service got it right.  Paula passed to the north and then headed on to the southeast, so we never saw the most intense part of the storm.  By about 1:30 am the wind had clearly shifted which meant the centre had passed.  The wind was whistling down the path on the other side of the house and hitting the front door, which was protected by the good old-fashioned wooden shutters.

Rob headed off to bed and I followed a bit later.  I woke up about 4 am and I am pretty sure it was the silence that woke me.  I lay there until it got light and went out to see what was left.  The wind had died right down and there was not much rain either.  The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was the over powering scent of shredded plant life.  It was like someone had just trimmed all the hedges in Vila at the same time.

The way shutters shouldn't be hung

I crawled out through what was left of the shutters on to the deck and took a look into the harbour.  There was a yacht washed a shore down below us and another sunk across the harbour over at the Rossi.  There were a lot fewer leaves on the trees and all the walls of the house were plastered with small pieces of green.

When you looked down into the bush you could actually see the path of the wind.   Tree branches were snapped off in a certain direction.  The trees that had fallen were lying in a certain direction.  Bushes and trees left standing were leaning in the same direction.  There wasn’t a banana tree left standing and most of the papaya trees had snapped. 

Rob got ready for work and I drove into town with him.  There was a lot of damage to food crops, but not too much to buildings.  A total of six yachts were beached or sunk and one at the market had only the top of its mast above water.  The yacht below us is still there 3 weeks later.  There doesn’t seem to be an easy way to get it over the reef and back to deep water.

The green debris has turned to brown and there are many views around town that weren’t there before and won’t be again once the bush comes back.  We were lucky this time.  I’ve experienced my cyclone and I don’t think I need to do it again.

Malapoa Before Paula

Malapoa After Paula