Irma
"What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger".
After a quick 3-year endeavour across the world, in 2017, I found myself in a small island in the Caribbean called Tortola, the main island of the British Virgin Island. As I embraced the island life, smoking cigars and drinking the best rum under the 40 degree celsius sun, I couldn't help to imagine the pirates that came to this island. Directly across from our house was a view of the Dead's Man Chest island, I was charmed and captivated. A few months passed and we were due to leave the island for a break to avoid cabin fever. My dear friend and I ventured off to New York, it was my first time. A few days in, we found out that there was a storm building in the Atlantic ocean and it was heading towards the B.V.I. Hesitantly, we decided to go back and retrieve our belongings.
Oil paint on paper
297 x 420 mm
2017
British Virgin Island, Caribbean
We had about a week before the storm was supposedly going to hit the island. I spent most days preparing for the storm; storing extra water, buying canned foods, candles, batteries and torches. I remember I would go to the supermarket everyday and carry liters of water home. The locals would look at me weirdly, they said the storm never hits us and it goes to up to Florida instead. I was ready anyway just incase. On the day it was suppose to come, me and my flatmate joined our filipino neighbour and sat together in his house drinking, waiting for the storm... Finally it got dark, wind was picking up ...Irma is here.
As it started, a storm like no other, the wrath and power of mother nature was powerful. After 3-4 hours, it settled down... the eye of the storm was on top of us. We went outside and everything was destroyed. After 30 minutes under the eye, the tail of the storm started, it was the worst part. The house was leaking, bits of the house was coming off, branches, car parts and god knows what were hitting and rattling hellishly outside. Scared to death, I stood in a corner of 2 pillars, the strongest structure in our apartment, thinking I could die anytime now. I quickly grabbed my camera and recorded myself in the bathroom, said my goodbyes to my family.
The wind broke the top part of our windows and the air was coming through, the metal roller blinds was trembling as the strong winds passed through, they sounded like machines guns going off. 5 hours in, I was exhausted, tired and afraid. Eventually I ran out of energy and passed out on the couch. The tail of the storm lasted about 8 hours. We went outside and everything was destroyed. A few hours later, people were looting and the prisoners got out.
Days after, we tried getting out of the island but it was almost impossible. So while we waited for some news, I would spend my days painting outside. There was no power, internet and mobile reception. I sat by our staircase, overlooking our neighbourhood. Once in a while, looters and local Caribbean men in groups with machetes walked around our property. Usually it was only me at home so I would lock the door, hide the key and be on look out while holding a knife, just in case. During the first week I didn't really sleep. We decided to leave the window barriers that protected us from the storm up and intact. So nights were humid and hot inside the house. Sleeping on your own pool of sweat and getting eaten by mosquitos was not ideal. Then during the day, I was too alert to rest.
A couple of weeks after, we ran into one of our customers in the restaurant that were supplying goods to Richard Bransons, Necker Island. He said to pack our stuff and meet them in the marina in 2 days time. On the day at the marina, we waited patiently all afternoon, eventually, a 30 foot white speed boat called Storm Trooper arrived, carrying four of the wealthiest men in Puerto Rico. We boarded the vessel and sail away from Tortola towards Puerto Rico as the sun was setting... just like in the movies, it was picturesque and romantic.
