Rita blogging

7:25 p.m. Nothing to report.  It's a lovely evening in Miami.  Just an occasional gusty breeze and some light rain bands. 

I'm looking at some clouds that are catching a lovely tangerine hue of the setting sun against a sky that runs from blue to violet to purple.  I'd go up on the roof to take a picture, but I'm too lazy.

You'll just have to imagine it.

Tues. 9:46 a.m. Rita passing to the south, through the Straits.  The eye is well-developed, as you can see, here (click for animated gif):

Tues. 10:45 a.m. A band passed through, causing the sky to go almost black and kicking up some strong gusts.  We lost power for about 45 minutes.

Wed., Sept. 21:  This may be my lamest post, ever.  Should I give it the gong?  Or maybe submit it to next week's Bonfire of the Vanities?

Comments

[Georgina]

Hi, Brant - the exhaustion continues. Here's what I posted on my blog regarding Rita.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

TRES AGUITAS AND SEVENTY YEARS

Tuesday, September 20, 2005, 5 p.m.: The National Hurricane Center just lifted the Tropical Storm Warnings from Miami-Dade and Broward Counties. I’m breathing a sigh of relief.

About an hour before, I’d been watching the removal of debris from US 1 in the Lower Matecumbe area. Upper Matecumbe is now known as Islamorada.

Lots of flooding in the Upper and Middle Keys: the Overseas Highway had HAD to be cleared, or else no one could have reached the folks in the Lower Keys.

Not too bad in Key West, the city’s mayor stated within the last hour. Rita’s done less damage to our Southernmost City than either Dennis or Katrina, he said.

The bad stuff’s still coming down in the Middle Keys.

Matecumbe: what a pretty name. I always notice it on the way down. Upper, and Lower

A BIG one. A HUGE one, hit the area in 1935. It’s still known as the Labor Day Hurricane. It destroyed about forty miles worth of tracks, on Henry Flagler’s Overseas Railroad. The eye stretched from Craig (yes, there was a family named Craig) to Long Key.

The township of Craig boasted—and still boasts—the lowest barometric pressure ever recorded on the mainland of the United States: 26.35 inches.

The Hurricane of 1935 was a Category 5 storm. Twenty-five years later, Category 4 Donna again wreaked havoc in roughly the same area.

Seventy years later, along comes Category 2 Rita. It’s pounding Marathon as I write this.

For all intents and purposes, we in Dade and Broward Counties got away with tres aguitas.

As Rita proceeds on her headlong rush toward landfall somewhere in Texas, all we can hope for is that a little town, somewhere between Upper and Lower Matecumbe, retains the record it set seventy years ago.

Hope your boat and - most importantly - you and your family made it through ok.