The Flood (12/4/2000)
We knew it was rainy season. We had been anxious for weeks about the eye surgery team that had been scheduled in November, when the weather is unpredictable, and for the other guests that were staying with us. Our schedules are flexible, but visitors have planes to catch, jobs to return to, family waiting.
The eye surgery team had wonderful spring like weather with blue skies and moderate temperatures. I had to show them a video of last year’s heavy rain to convince them that this was indeed rainy season!
Our last three guests were flying out Nov 30. The weather had become more characteristic, with daily rains, sometimes heavy, but nothing really significant. Every morning we would listen for the sound of the bus horns in “downtown Balfate” signifying that the buses were still running. Occasionally, we would even go down to the river before sunset to scout out the conditions if we were planning to attend church across the rivers in Lis Lis that night. Our car, now equipped with a winch, is always loaded with towing equipment, boots, etc, in case our car or another became stuck in the mud or river. Whenever we go to town, we take an over night bag, “just in case”.
On Nov 29th, we headed for La Ceiba with our guests, planning to spend the night there, see them off the next day, do some shopping and head home. It rained on and off, but nothing really worrisome. As we reached the rivers after dark on Nov 30th, we noticed they were a bit up, but nothing really concerning, and we crossed them easily, and safely arrived home in Balfate.
That night it POURED!
The next morning, I could not hear the bus horns. Since Chrysti, our nurse, and Doctors Shaw and Sharon Yount, with their family, had spent the night in La Ceiba, planning on returning to Balfate that day, I drove down to check the river. It was certainly up, possibly crossable in an emergency, but not worth risking otherwise. I called La Ceiba on the cell phone, advising our coworkers of the situation. Chrysti had already left, but returned to her parents’ home in La Ceiba when she found the Lis Lis river neck-deep for those wading across.
The rains continued heavy over the next two days. The rivers continued to rise. Daily we talked with those stranded in La Ceiba, making and changing plans as the conditions changed.
On Sunday morning, December 3rd, the heaviest rain hit with wind driving water through every nook and cranny of our house. We found new leaks. The inside walls were damp to the touch, and a pond formed in our yard which grew to engulf one corner of the house. The sound of the rain beating the house was so loud we had to yell to communicate inside. The power that had been flickering for a few days finally went out.
Early afternoon, the rain lightened, which then allowed us to hear the roar of the river! The Bejucal River had swollen its banks, at places lapping at the concrete wall that surrounds our yard, the water only 20 feet from our front gate. We had literally become an island in the midst of a huge delta.
As we watched the debris whisk down the river, we were amazed to see a series of floating islands, some as large as 40 ft across. One had a bird perched on it, another with a six-foot tree perfectly erect. We assumed these represented pieces of land that were sloughed from the mountainside upstream.
Since the rain had diminished to a drizzle, and the skies were brightening some, we decided to venture out with our cameras to document the event. We found the whole town of Balfate flooded, every street a river at least a foot deep. Maribel’s restaurant looked like a houseboat surrounded by water, with the family looking out the windows.
We were surprised to see a rather festive environment in town! Everyone seemed to be out enjoying the day. Kids splashed and swam. Adults gathered in clusters around the deepest and most rapid flows of water discussing the flood. People had their umbrellas with them, but most were down, since the light rain then falling was almost nothing in comparison to the prior deluge.
The main road out of Balfate was too deep to drive through, so we took the road to the hospital, crossed a rather rapid flow of water, much to Becky’s dismay, and doubled back to see the Bejucal River at the ford. What we found amazed us. At least 200 yards this side of the ford was parked a canoe on the edge of the river! The normally dry fields around us were filled with water, and the road had become a causeway, or more like a boat ramp gradually easing into the water.
As we returned to our house, we found the water level was continuing to rise, and the rapid we had just crossed a few minutes before was even more ominous. Assessing our options, we headed on through the rapids, to the amusement of the townsfolk who warned us that we would be swept away. We made it safely home!
The rains continued on and off, but with much less force, during the rest of the day and into the night. This morning the skies were partly sunny, with a few threatening looking clouds. The river had receded some and the pond in our yard had become a puddle. We wrung out the towels and emptied the buckets that were catching our leaks, opened the windows to let some air through and begin the long drying out process.
A trip to the river ford demonstrated five canoes busily shuttling people across the still deep, still rapidly flowing water. It will be several days, hopefully without much more rain, before normal traffic will again be flowing across the rivers in any other way.
Dave Drozek with
Thoughts from Honduras
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