"The actual wind speed of Hurricane Camille will never be known, as it destroyed all of the wind recording instruments upon making landfall."
In this year of 2016, when it is hard to remember the last major hurricane to hit the Gulf Coast, this is the story of a monster - a monster that I encountered. It was 47 years ago this month, that on the Gulf Coast, day turned to night, tranquility turned to terror as the monster with the never ending roar and fury, chewed up and destroyed miles of pristine coastline.
In August
29th 2005, one of the deadliest storms to ever hit our Gulf Coast
almost destroyed the City of New Orleans. Almost 2,000 people died from
both natural and unnatural causes. It ranked as the third most intense storm
ever to hit the Gulf Coast (in recorded history). It ranked right behind the
1935 Labor Day Hurricane, and the "top dog" of the top three, the 1969 August
hurricane named Camille.
This is
my story of Hurricane Camille while I was stationed in Pensacola.
As quoted
from a unknown news story: On the evening of 17
August 1969, the storm made landfall. Hurricane Camille was one
of very few storms to have recorded sustained wind speeds of at
least 190
miles per hour, remains
the only confirmed Atlantic hurricane in recorded history to make landfall with
wind speeds at or above such a level. The actual wind speed of Hurricane Camille will never be
known, as it destroyed all of the wind recording instruments upon making
landfall. By central pressure alone, Camille was the second strongest U.S. land
falling hurricane in recorded history. It was a monster.
My story
really starts eight days prior to landfall of this historic and
deadly storm. Late on a very hot and steamy afternoon on the 9th of
August, the plane which was bringing me to Pensacola, Florida touched down. I was amazed when I got off the plane - I thought
Minnesota was humid this time of year - Pensacola was brutal.
After departing
boot camp and spending a week home on leave, I was traveling to
a place I had never been to, destined to learn about subjects I
knew nothing about. After taking a taxi from the airport to the
base, I checked in. I was assigned to a WW II vintage
location called "Building 501". It was old, it was hot and stuffy,
and it was barely suitable for Navy standards. However, it would be the place I
would call home for the next six months.
Shortly
after arriving, I was assigned to a work detail prior to class starting.
Every day we would travel around the base, pick up litter, cut grass, or
sweep streets. Every night after chow, with the humidity so thick you
could cut it with a knife, we would strip to our underwear, sit in front
of huge fans, and watch TV in the commons area.
The meteorologists
in Pensacola were getting more and more excited about a storm
developing deep in the Gulf. Knowing absolutely nothing about tropical storms,
I found this nightly event fascinating. The storm sat in the Gulf, not really going
anywhere, churning and getting stronger every day.
As a
Minnesota boy, I knew about thunderstorms, and maybe an occasional tornado.
However, this thing was something else. It was big, very big. It was like a
huge thunderstorm, on steroids. And it was moving in slow motion. In short, at
the end of every day, I could not wait until chow was over to watch the
progress of this massive storm.
"Weather
guessers" who track tropical storms, would use something called a
"cone of uncertainty". This was nothing more than a computer
projection which defined an area of possible landfall. On August 15th,
Pensacola became located in the "cone". For a while it looked like
Pensacola or Mobile, Alabama might be ground zero for this monster
storm.
Because
the water temperature was so warm that time of year, the longer this storm sat
in the Gulf, the stronger it got. First it was Category 1, then Category 2,
then Category 3 - now it was a major hurricane. My fascination
and excitement to see how this storm would develop now had turned to dread
and fear. It was starting to look like this storm named Camille would
come knocking at the place I was living.
On August
16th, the day before the storm made landfall, the base went on lock down. No
leave, no going outdoors (unless specific duties were authorized). Unless
assigned to a fire and security watch, everyone was confined to the barracks
with meals consisting of on site emergency rations (C-rats).
Late in
the day, the storm made Category 4. Many of the local and national
hurricane experts were now predicting this storm could get even stronger.
There was something very bothersome about this storm named Camille. When the storm
planes flew into the eye of the storm to take barometric readings, the
instruments recorded near historic lows. Word was spreading that this
hurricane could now strengthen to a very rare and
catastrophic Category 5. This would thereby unleash unbelievable
damage to the pristine Gulf Coast.
The next
day dawned with the worst fears coming true. Overnight, the storm had
strengthened to Category 5 and the track was now becoming more defined.
It had veered into a more Northwest track, away from Pensacola. However,
since Pensacola would be on the East side of the predicted landfall, wind
speeds would still be very high and massive bands of rain would cause flooding.
In the afternoon the winds and rain started in earnest. It seemed like every
hour, the sky got darker, the wind blew harder, and the rain went from vertical too horizontal.
Shortly
after dark, this monster made landfall. The windows in Building 501 were
shuttered so we could not see outside. However, the sound was something
horrible. Something like I had never heard before. It was a loud,
steady roar with loud bangs as items propelled by the wind would hit the
side of the building. At 10:00 pm, I was assigned fire and security watch
at one of the school buildings located in an old hanger on the other side of
the tarmac.
Going
outside, wearing only my Navy issued raincoat for protection, I got my first
look at Camille. It was a scene from Dante's Inferno, minus the
flames. Walking across the tarmac was as difficult as I had seen on TV or
read in books. I had to lean into the wind at almost a 45% angle just to keep
my feet. The roar of the wind was almost deafening. However, I did hear
something that stood out from that horrible noise. Blowing across the
tarmac was a sixteen-foot metal dumpster - blowing just like it was a large
paper bag. Garbage was flying every which way the wind would take it. It
is a sight I will never forget.
My duty
in the hanger lasted four long, very nerve racking hours. The roof of this old
building, covered corrugated metal was a source of constant concern. Many times during that four hours I thought the roof was going to either come off or fall into
the building. Power was out for the base and the only lights on were the
emergency lanterns. For the second time in my very short Navy career, I really
thought I was in dire danger.
At 2:00
am my relief came. I was never so happy to see another person. I left the
school building and began the long walk back to Building 501. During the time I
was on duty I could see the storm had somewhat settled down. The wind was
still strong, the rain was still coming down, but not like before it was
before. Once safely back in Building 501, got into my rack and fell sound
asleep until dawn.
Once
daylight broke, we were allowed outside to start with the process of massive
cleanup. The damage to the base was unbelievable. Sand was everywhere -
considering the base was over a mile from the beach, that was impressive. The
base had survived, but it was a mess and took many weeks to get back to normal.
In the
days that followed, clouds parted, the sun came out, and the wind and rain
were gone. However, life was certainly not back too normal. As lucky as
Pensacola was just to get the fringe of the storm, the winds in Pensacola were
still estimated in excess of 115 miles per hour. The bulls eye of the storm
hit somewhere between Pascagoula and Biloxi, Mississippi.
In that
location, the damage was extreme. Based on the damage trail of the storm,
some hurricane experts estimate the eye wall had winds of an
unprecedented 205 miles per hour at landfall. However, that will never
be confirmed as the storm was so strong, it destroyed the instruments
made to measure wind speed.
My wife
and I visited Pensacola a few years back. I wanted to go there, just for old times’
sake. It seemed that most of the local folks on the Gulf Coast these days talk
about Hurricane Ivan instead of Hurricane Camille. Ivan hit Pensacola in 2004. Therefore,
it is much fresher in many minds. Even though damage from Camille can still be
seen in parts of Mississippi's Gulf Coast, most of the terrible
damage has since been repaired. And, memories of that horrible night are
starting to fade.
However, this
former 19-year-old sailor will never forget that August night. That
night when the most unwelcome of guests came a knocking. That night when
Hurricane Camille made history in the United States.
