Beach Weather Gamble: Part One

by Wendy
Follow me on twitter @wendylooksleaps

How many times have you obsessively checked the weather leading up to a beach visit, only to be totally surprised by the weather that actually occurs.

Years ago, Jack and I went to one of our favorite islands, Puerto Rico, for a week’s stay. We arrive to warm tropical sun, settle in at a cool resort with several beautiful pools in front of a beautiful beach, and bask in the first day vacation glow with drinks at the outdoor tiki hut. Later that evening, the bartender we’re chatting with mentions that severe weather might be on the way. The next day’s skies are mild, but then a note from the hotel slides under the door informing us that Hurricane Irene’s path now indicates that it will hit the island and could we please move all balcony patio furniture inside?

The rest of that beach holiday was not what we expected. There was a lot of wind and stormy rain the night of the hurricane. I remember we took the stairs because we didn’t want to risk getting trapped in an elevator, but while Jack opted for practical sneakers I stubbornly wore platform sandals (but we’re on vacation!), holding out hope that things would get back to normal soon.

There were very brief power outages, a temporary water shut-off, leaks/flooding in certain areas, pool and restaurant closures – but apparently no serious damage to the property. It was a little unsettling, and I was definitely nervous about supplies when the hotel had no running water for about 8 hours and only vague updates about when it would be available again.

The beach and outdoor areas were messy and essentially off-limits for the majority of the week. Jack and I were naturally disappointed, but had to make the best of it. You can’t be the jerk complaining about your resort amenities when residents are dealing with home repairs and clean-up, road closures, no electricity, and other issues in the hurricane’s aftermath.

The hotel kept rooms and common areas fairly clean, very orderly, with discounts on food, free bottled water and complimentary movie rentals. Jack and I slept in, read books, hit the breakfast buffet, watched films, ate burgers and drank beer at one of the few on-site pubs still open.

When the weather started to clear toward the end of the trip, we took a little drive, stopping at Loquillo Beach and the famous food kiosks. The best photo of the trip (there are only about 4) features the delicious lunch at La Parilla, recommended by a colleague from Puerto Rico. While returning to the hotel, a lady rear-ended our rental car and proceeded to yell at Jack though it was her fault as we waited for the police for a couple of hours.

As we prepared to return home, they opened one of the pools outside. It was not the biggest pool with the slides, waterfalls and volleyball net. It was small and the bleak skies and scattered branches cut a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere we witnessed upon arrival. A few kids who had probably been cooped up in the resort all week were eager to finally swim. But the vacation magic hadn’t yet returned. One of the youngsters paused on the pool ladder, doing his best to keep a stiff upper lip. With shuddering sigh he stated quietly, “I hate this pool.” My heart went out to him and I can only hope he had better luck on his next beach vacation.

We left Puerto Rico right in time to catch Hurricane Irene as she tore though DC, knocking out the electricity in our house overnight.

P.S. Puerto Rico we still love you and had so much fun on other occasions, including one Thanksgiving.