I drove with my husband to Treasure Beach in St Elizabeth yesterday, 27 July 2024. I wanted to see how the community was doing after the destruction caused by Hurricane Beryl on July 3rd. I’m wary of disaster voyeurs, you know, people who are just touring around, exclaiming, taking pictures and video on their cell phones, and I didn’t want to be one of them, so I waited.
But almost four weeks after the hurricane, it was time. What follows are my impressions only – not a survey or scientific study, and there were many places we did not get to, especially not northern St Elizabeth or the farming areas. A list of the places we did not see is long.
Coming from Kingston, we didn’t start to see any significant hurricane impacts until we were in Top Hill in St Elizabeth and then there were trees and branches down, leaning electricity poles. The closer we got to the coast, the worse the damage became. We passed the Pedro Plains Primary School, which was almost destroyed. There were some concrete utility poles interspersed between the old wooden ones, some of the latter very skinny and old looking. We passed several Jamaica Public Service (JPS) crews, working.
We went straight to the parking lot at Jakes, where we saw a stockpile of wooden utility poles. I wish the downed posts were being replaced with concrete ones. With permission from the owners, we went into Jakes. I was apprehensive; I’d heard how hard it had been hit. And yes, there are a lot of trees down, vegetation fallen over. The most noticeable absence for me was the two large cashaw (acacia) trees under which Calabash-goers enjoyed shade. I learned their branches had fallen so the trees had to be severely pruned – and all around Treasure Beach, we saw the cashaw trees had fared badly. But the Calabash stage still stands and so does the small house Jakes calls ‘Snapper’ but for me is forever the Calabash bookshop. The central old building which housed the lobby and part of the kitchen had lost its roof and so had other buildings. I figured the furniture inside must have been completely destroyed but I learned it had all been removed before the storm. I thought about the state of constant alert and anxiety induced by the Atlantic hurricane season.
Overall, though, Jakes was still there, I could see recovery work had started, and while it would take time for that gorgeous shady sanctuary to be fully restored, I had no doubt it would be back.
Then we drove around to other parts of the coastline – Billy’s Bay, Old Wharf, Calabash Bay, and there we saw many wholly or partially lost roofs, the blue tarpaulins keeping out the worst of the weather, the standing water in the dips and hollows of the land, no doubt causing dwillions of mosquitoes. The beach at Calabash Bay looked fine. Again, many trees down – not the lignum vitaes, mostly, nor the mango trees, and although they are not as common, the red birch trees lost branches, but remained upright.
As with all hurricanes, we noticed how buildings very close to one another with similar construction were differently affected. One building, everything intact. The one next door, half the roof gone.
We saw sheets of zinc caught up in bushes and trees. The old time, wavy, smaller sheets of zinc looked much the same as they had while nailed to a roof and waited only for salvage. The more modern roofing materials were often crumpled like tinfoil.
A lovely little bakery we found on our last trip had lost its roof completely and everything inside was gone.
Here too JPS crews were out in the sunhot, and residents were in their fields, groups of people made repairs to homes and businesses, and through the open door of a bar, there was music. Yes, a passerby agreed, some people had got back light, although the strange freak storm the Met Office people called a ‘squall line’ the night before had taken away the light again. In general, though, I sensed a community in pain, still shell-shocked.
We had lunch at Jack Spratt (which is open) near to Jakes – and spoke with Captain Dennis, a Treasure Beach born yah, a boy sent to the Pedro Bank at fourteen, a fisher, father, family man, self-made builder and tour operator. He had much to say about building methods – how hurricane straps were misunderstood, as while they helped to keep the whole roof on, but did nothing to secure the roofs themselves, whether zinc or standing seam or decorative tiles. He spoke passionately about spans and laths and rafters and screws and bolts and vs nails and I thought about what ‘build back better’ really means.
And it seems to me we have an opportunity now – yes, there is need for a fast response to restore people’s livity in St Elizabeth, but there is also a time for reflection on our building practices, given the new normal we face. State agencies could bring together roofing experts to discuss other approaches and materials and we could slowly improve our building stock to stand up better to the stronger storms we now expect. We could do our best not to rebuild exactly as before.
The same is true of the power supply. The impact of this and any other windstorm would be so much less if electricity had stayed on or at least was quickly restored. Walking around Treasure Beach, our dependence on the energy supply was evident – no power means not just no light, but no water, no internet, no ATM, no card machines to pay for anything, no communications, not even a fan to deal with the heat.
We could also do a rapid assessment of which trees fared best in the areas worst affected and use that knowledge to guide replanting. I was told by Captain Dennis that the hurricane stripped the leaves off the lignum vitae trees, but in no time they came back, and were in full leaf when we saw them. Maybe that’s what kept them standing – less wind resistance – this is a tree that knows how to wait out a storm.
Apart from the devastating and widespread destruction to homes, farms, power and livelihoods, two things in Treasure Beach disturbed me – a substantial building constructed much too close to the Great Pedro Pond, and a demarcated construction site in Old Wharf right on the sea, in the sand, part of the foreshore. Just, no.
Work is underway, slow progress is being made, but there are many who remain without adequate shelter, food or work. If you are able to help, please go to the Breds Foundation
I’ll end with the best thing I saw: the canoe righted, back as it always was, welcoming visitors to Treasure Beach.
Thanks for making the trip so we know what it's like. Also, thanks for the recommendations, I hope they're applied because we know the hurricanes will only become more frequent and more intense, as our planet recently recorded four days of the highest temperature ever in history. God help us as we help ourselves.
Never been to Treasure Beach, how did I grow up in Jamaica and see so little of it!