Post-Katrina Slidell

Only now that the residents and business people of Slidell are returning is the devastation wrought by Katrina really coming clear. Every street – and I do mean *every* street – in town is lined with heaps of soaked, mildewed furniture and belongings; piles of ruined siding, drywall, and insulation; and the occasional boat or car. For every business that has reopened, there are two dozen that may never open again. And on the principal roadways, relief stations and donation drops do a booming business, with people of all income levels lined up for blocks for free meals, water, and clothing.

We drove out Highway 11 toward Lake Pontchartrain and toured the part of town that was hardest hit. The storm surge exceeded 10 feet there, so just about every building is trashed. We saw fishing camps (inexpensive frame houses on stilts) that were lifted off their foundations and deposited on the other side of the highway. Boats rest in trees. Cars lie crossways on roadways and in ditches. A U-Haul truck perches on a levy. And million-dollar homes are gutted, their insurance claim numbers marked in bright spray paint on their facades. Some areas, including the Oak Harbor marina where some of Frank’s Internet sailing buddies are (were) moored, have police barricades or guards posted to keep looters and tourists like us away. (There are a lot of people here with cameras and curiosity.)

As for the looting, the atmosphere in town is calm compared to New Orleans, but people are still edgy. Local medical clinics offer free services but point out on large, hand-lettered signs that they have no narcotics. Other signs warn that “Looters will be shot and prosecuted” – evidently in that order. My favorite says “Loota’s will be shot! No traespass!” (sic)

On the bright side, helpfulness and camaraderie abound. Strangers chat and sympathize in long lines at recently reopened grocery stores, and inconveniences are taken with smiles and “what are you gonna do?” shrugs. Local businesses are doing what they can to help, both in the simple, normalcy-restoring fact that they are open and by selling for very reasonable prices. Domino’s is offering only two kinds of pizza – cheese and pepperoni – but it’s a popular dinner location anyway, and it is efficient that way! You stand in line, pay, and walk out with your pizza in less than five minutes. Baskin Robbins is *very* popular – lines out the door – despite being a few miles from the part of town where most of the open businesses are concentrated. Gasoline prices here are 20 cents per gallon less than we paid in Texas (although you don’t always have a choice of grades). Grocery store prices are low, too, and clerks are patient with customers using unfamiliar relief debit cards.

I think the only people getting rich off this are the tree services and electricians, especially those who’ve come to town from parts unknown to do business from their RVs. Oh – and the drive-through daiquiri stands are all back in business and doing very well.

Here in the boatyard, there is progress on all fronts. They brought in a big crane yesterday and began righting fallen boats. It’s an impressive but slow process. They did about four boats in a full day of work today. Survivor boats from other marinas are also beginning to arrive, ready for haulout and repair. The boatyard crew is a tough bunch of guys, working hard in the heat day in and day out.

The Zombie Princess Krewe is learning to be tough, too, since there’s no electricity – and thus, no air conditioning – in the yard. The days aren’t so bad – we keep our cold drinks and spray bottles handy, and we jump in the air-conditioned van and run errands whenever it gets to be too much – but the nights are pretty miserable. There are no breezes back here at night, and even if there were, we wouldn’t feel them much, because we have to close the ports and hatches that don’t have screens in order to keep out the swarms of mosquitoes. All that standing water, you know. We’re making screens as time allows each day.

We and the ZP are about there, though. All of our food is aboard and stowed, we stocked up on fuel and water, and we’re all beyond emotionally ready to get this show on the road. Er, water. Also, word from the DOT is that the bridges between us and the gulf are all open to marine traffic. There’s a fair amount of misinformation floating around, so we’re taking that news with a grain of salt, but it’s encouraging.

Today, we hope to meet up with Judy and Gary to pick up our logo from their house, and then we’ll meet with Bob to leave the van at his property in Lacombe (Chrissy’s house being a four-hour drive around the lake and back). With those tasks done, we’ll be free to cast off. Best case, we’ll leave this afternoon and anchor out in the Lake Pontchartrain breezes. If we can’t get out early enough (needing light to navigate debris-strewn bayous), we’ll suffer through one more hot night, leave Saturday morning, and spend our first night in the Gulf. Both plans have their appeal.

SATURDAY UPDATE
Well, we had a nice run up the bayou Friday afternoon. Now we're anchored in a very quiet little bend, enjoying the peace and the breeze while we tinker with the engine. Marjie and Chloe have been playing with the new fishing poles, and we had each a lovely deckside shower. Bliss!

KQR