Katrina blogging

Steve H. and Val are doing it, so what the heck.  (Update: Florida Cracker, too, but what's the crack about "stealing" Katrina's eye?  I swear, we Miamians never get a break.)

In a hurricane, your biggest enemy is boredom.  Your best friend is alcohol.

They closed our office, today, as soon as the hurricane warning was announced.  I've been home since about noon.  Took a nap in the "little house" (a converted, 1920s, one-car, detached garage), and haven't really known what to do with myself since.

I had to retrieve our Snipe from the Coconut Grove Sailing Club, yesterday.  The bad news is that my trailer sucks.  The good news is that we only live about a mile away, and I didn't have to travel on any major surface roads for very long.

6:30 p.m.

Katrina arrived with a whimper.  Just a long overcast day with some rain and hardly a stiff breeze.

The breeze has pick up, now, with some gusts that may approach tropical storm strength.  But no biggie.

The power has flickered a few times, and about fifteen minutes ago I heard the distinct "boom" of a transformer exploding.  No storm is too wimpy for the geniuses at FPL, and I figure that it's only a matter of time before we get blacked out.

6:45 p.m.

I hear the groan of tree branches brushing against a power line.  It's a distinctive sound that you learn to recognize after a few hurricanes.  This one is picking up a little energy.  The eye wall seems to have jogged south, toward us:

[Graphic Deleted]

That notch below the "Miami" dot is Biscayne Bay.  We are closer to the northern rim of that notch.

6:58 p.m.

We just had a major power surge.  I may not be online much longer.

Wind gusts are getting stronger.

7:15 p.m.

Me:  Wife!

Wife: [muffled] What?

Me:  That last power surge knocked out the oven.  What setting did you have it on?

Wife: --

Me:  Wife?