In the south, time is measured between hurricanes.
She crept between Cuba and the Yucatan, parting the waves under a shroud of darkness. Only puddles from her rain, rumbling thunder, and debris on the beaches revealed evidence of her passing. Now, she was free.
After a summer of record-setting heat, the water of the Gulf of Mexico began to boil. She consumed the available fuel, sending giant clouds skyward to the edge of space. As her eye formed, her power increased. Like a hungry beast, she consumed the warmth of the Gulf and drove it skyward, increasing her appetite even more. Soon, she became one of the most feared forces of nature . . . Hurricane.
Growing stronger each hour and with nothing to guide her, she wandered aimlessly in the central Gulf. Unaware of her existence, the coastline to the north lay sleeping like an innocent child. Her winds screamed louder and louder with each passing minute as she moved northward her banshee cries resonating across the Gulf and into the dark void of outer space above.
The warm sun shone brightly along the coastline hundreds of miles away. The gentle breeze across the bays, beaches, and pine-covered islands sensed no warning of her approach.
She stalled and consumed the last bit of energy from the warmth of the Gulf. Beyond the horizon, Portersville enjoyed a beautiful day. On September 25, 1906, giant swells approached land and crashed into deep caverns with a sound like thunder.
The vibrations resonated within the chest of Captain Bosarge. The deep sound echoed relentlessly as he peered across Portersville Bay toward the distant horizon. "She is upon us. She is upon us," he whispered.
From ominous clouds in the distance, dark swirling columns attached themselves to the surface of the bay. Like performers on a stage, they danced to the rhythm of the pounding beat of the swells crashing in the distance.
A lifetime of communing with the sea told him that she would not turn away, and soon it would be too late. His eyes dimmed