Drinkin Appletons at DP

A dive instructor returns to his former abode on Grand Cayman after a 20-year hiatus. Guess the name of his former residence? Thats right, DP.

Standing today at the exact same spot where, 20 years ago, I waited for wind to blow and waves to grow angry, I realize how foolish I was. Last year, another monster rose from the south and threatened the island. But this one didn’t back down. If someone was sitting at the Dolphin Point gazebo to welcome Ivan, his body is probably still in a tree — on Cuba. The gazebo itself is gone; only bits of foundation remain on the ironshore. A guy who rode out the storm in a condo next to the one I lived in said that when the storm surge reached its high-water mark the sea was just inches below the second-floor balconies. All the lower units were totaled. The ocean crashed in through the front doors and windows and carried away every possession when it blew out the back. Because the insurance claims here have yet to be settled, the grounds are a still bomb site, with purses, shoes, toys, roofs, hot-water heaters and green pieces of tennis court scattered all over. It’s a disheartening first stop on my homecoming tour, but as I drive away, I can hear the buzz of power tools all around the neighborhood.

It is a wonderful article. Read the whole thing. Link