Early Saturday morning, the National Hurricane Center said that Ana had made a complete transition from a subtropical storm to a full tropical storm. This was based on the fact that shower and thunderstorm activity was more collocated with the center of circulation, which is a characteristic of tropical storms.
For many years I was a popular volunteer weather and hurricane correspondent in the Caribbean. So here I am in the Sea Islands off the coast of South Carolina, minding my own business in May and we have the first named tropical storm Ana bearing down this way.
Who'd a thunk it?
Hurricane season doesn't even start until June 1st. But here come Ana, like a good ole southerner, not only prompt for the event, but early. Waaaaaay early. The belle of the ball and we haven't even set up the band yet.
Let's hope she has no where to go and leaves us alone. I am supposed to travel again tomorrow. But my motorhome betrayed me a day early and announced her poop tank was full to the brim. I had to break camp to go to the dump station.
Oh the joys of camping.
My stomach is not cooperating with me. It's pitching a big fit just like it used to do when hurricanes breathed down on me in the Caribbean. I wonder if it is psychosomatic. I used to endure hurricanes ashore while my self-insured sailboat rode out the hurricane on her lonesome; typically attached to six anchors with numerous layers of chafing gear around the anchor rodes in hopes the choppy waves and winds wouldn't bust her free. My stomach would do awful things because typically where I took refuge ashore was no where near where I could watch my precious sailboat bob helplessly upon the seas.
Amazingly my boat survived every time, though there were always some damages to endure, with repairs to be made afterwards.
A little old motorhome is no place to be during a hurricane, but since it drives 60 miles per hour and hurricanes typically travel at 5-15 miles per hour, theoretically I could outrun Ana.
Perhaps the Ohio valley would look good about right now.
Harley dog is upset that his sandcastle might not make it through the storm.
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Have no fear, Jim Cantore left South Carolina and is now in Kansas! Nothing will happen.
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