The Great Storm of 2012. It was Hurricane Sandy inside a giant northeaster. Really, the storm wasn't just a hurricane so to say 'Hurricane Sandy' without saying anything else is incomplete. This was a giant swirling mass of wind over 1,000 miles. Its identity was somewhere between a northeaster and a hurricane. A blocking high pressure near Greenland forced the storm into New Jersey, piling up the entire North Atlantic on our shore.
The center of the storm, the Hurricane Sandy part, turned northwest somewhere north of Cape Hatteras. Winds were already high. Before the power went out at 3:00pm, the TV showed a satellite image of the huge storm. Winds had increased to 90mph with gusts to 115mph, and the forward speed increased to 28mph. Pressure was 941mb, the equivalent of a Category 4 hurricane. It aimed squarely for New Jersey. It was due to strike in the evening- at the same time as the full moon high tide. It was a perfect storm.
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| I knew something was wrong in the morning. I'd never seen the water so 'high'. |
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| The waves were already crashing over the dunes three hours before high tide |
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| The walkover at dunes at Osprey Lane being eaten away |
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| The ocean was just taking and taking |
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| The view from the Frederick's deck before dark. Almost all of the dunes were gone already. Winds were gusting to hurricane force. |
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| Brick 2 looked as bad as the '92 storm and the worst was yet to come |
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| Here comes the ocean! |
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| The first big wave going down Osprey Lane |
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| The ocean coming down the shoulder of Route 35 in front of Todd's house |
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| I went back to the Frederick's and their dunes were gone. A big wave shook the deck. I got out of there as fast as I could. The wave chased me down Osprey Lane to Route 35. I was frightened at that point, high tide wasn't for almost an hour and forty-five minutes. |
I couldn't take any pictures during the high tide. It was probably the scariest thing I have ever been through in my entire life. There was a very real chance that something was going to go horribly wrong. The water would not stop coming- the ocean was filing up Route 35 North, the bay was rising up the driveway. High tide wasn't for fifty minutes, yet the road was white with ocean foam. The ocean was coming from Mike and Ellen's driveway, the water tank, Osprey, a river of white. How high is it going to go?
I looked out from the third floor of the house. Normally, the ocean is a tame line of inky black behind a giant dune. For most of my life I've had a recurring dream that I'd wake up in that room and look out to see the ocean coming around the water tank where it would meet the bay under the house. I moved the shade and couldn't believe my eyes. It was happening. The dream I've had my entire life was happening.
Through the dark I saw a giant wave crash into the dunes and spray a story into the air. A moment later it came around the water tank into Route 35. I looked up again at the ocean between Kennedy's and John's house. The normally small black line of ocean was instead filled with mountains of white water half as high as the house, it was scary to look at. Another wave smashed into the dunes and came around the water tank into Route 35. I ran downstairs. Jim said the ocean just met the bay in the driveway. The dream came true.
I couldn't look again. The next hour and a half, which would get us an hour past the high tide, felt like forever. Just waiting for the tide to turn, waiting for the ocean to stop coming. Finally by 9:30, an hour and a half after high, the water started to go down. I walked outside and was relieved until I noticed an orange glow in the sky. What is that? Oh no. Fire.
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| I thought the wind didn't get us, the water didn't get us, but fire will. The wind shifted SE as the storm made landfall, blowing straight up from a fire. I heard an explosion and saw a flame. What a nightmare. |
Fire. And the wind just switched from E to SE, blowing it towards us. This is the devil's storm. Smoke was reaching over our house and it stunk. We could see flames from the second floor. If that's Faber Lane we're going to burn, the wind is blowing it right at us. We have to go north. It was horrible, thinking how is my Grandma, who is in her 80s, going to walk up the road through the ocean, sand, hurricane winds, and driving rain to get away from a fire.
Finally the ocean stopped, so I went to find the source of the fire. It was a wicked walk down Route 35. I was surrounded by the devil, by evil. It was as black as could be aside from the ocean foam and orange glow from the fire. The wind was groaning, and would moan like someone shouting. The electric lines were slapping and hissing. I trudged over piles of sand before turning the corner at Brick 3 to see a house completely in flames. Camp Osborn. It looked like the gates of hell. Embers were flying as far north as Todd's house, but the fire looked 'contained enough' There was no sleeping that night.
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| The ocean was on one side of the driveway and the bay was on the other. It was tense watching the water rise around the cars, but they made it. The water, the fire, there was no sleep. |
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| Route 35 the next morning |
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| Massive dunes were gone |
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| All of the sand. Gone. Just like that. |
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| The ocean broke through this garage and into Osprey Lane |
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| Osprey Lane |
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| The new view walking up Osprey Lane to the beach. There used to be dunes, now there's nothing. Osprey Dunes no more. |
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| Some houses now have a beach view |
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| A lighter moment |
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| Looking south at Faber Lane with the Thunderbird in the background. Looks like North Carolina or something. Totally foreign. |
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| The ocean broke through the first floor of the St. Joseph's by the Sea retreat house |
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| Brick 3. Where the ocean went piles of sand followed. Notice the smoke from the Camp Osborn fire. |
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| Looking north from Brick 2. Giant dunes that stood for years- as long as I can remember- are totally gone. It looked like somewhere else, not home. |
I was in shock when I saw what the ocean had done to the beach. Huge dunes were completely gone, either taken away or pushed into the streets. Since the dunes from Brick 1 to Brick 3 were some of the largest on the island, I could only being to imagine how bad it was elsewhere. I've seen the ocean for over 20 years and have seen all its moods and faces, it's my best friend, but I didn't recognize it. There was never anything like this.
Somewhat in shock, dazed with an hour of sleep, and wanting to get away from the smoke blowing up Route 35 from the fire, I decided to walk north to see how the Mantoloking Bridge was. Maybe I could find an escape route. I started the two-mile walk in smoky air, looking at the refuge of clear air ahead. The damage got progressively worse until I began to see destruction. I eventually lost track of where I was. It was that bad.
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| Wow. I've only seen things like this in pictures of the 1944 hurricane of the 1962 Great Atlantic Storm. Now I was seeing it in person. |
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| Oceanview Avenue was the first really bad wash through. There were broken gas lines hissing everywhere. |
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| I was living the 1962 storm, complete with the old car in front of the yellow house. |
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| Route 35 |
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| I've never seen the bay so high. Looking west from Route 35 North. |
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| Everywhere I went I could see the ocean |
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| From the split north the road was buried in one to four feet of sand |
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| The cover of the book |
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| It got worse as I continued towards Mantoloking proper |
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| Princeton Avenue. No need to park the car and walk over the dune to check the surf anymore. |
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| Downer Avenue in Mantoloking |
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| Looking like tropical destruction north of Downer Avenue |
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| This was the view from the porch of a man and wife who survived the storm |
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| As I got close to where I thought the bridge would be it was getting harder to tell where anything was. It was very sad. |
The destruction in Mantoloking was incredible. It was hard to believe I was walking along Route 35 with all the sand, crashed teleophone poles, wrecked homes, and whatever else there was. When I saw the sign for the Mantoloking Bridge I was in shock, it was unrecognizable. Where was the road? The pines looked shifted, like the entire land had moved. I've been up that road countless times but felt totally lost. The trees didn't look right. I continued by flipped cars, parts of a house, and downed poles. And then I saw a river of water with rapids in it. No way. No way. Oh my God. An inlet.
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| A new inlet through Mantoloking. Incredible. |
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| I met an off-the-grid guy who survived the storm with some neighbors. We were in disbelief. |
It looked like somewhere else was all I could think. It looked nothing like the Mantoloking I regularly pass through. Everything was so flat. The once great dunes I thought were impenetrable were flat. The beach was flat. The surf zone was flat. And here is an inlet. I looked west, but didn't see the Mantoloking Bridge. The land was displaced, houses blocked it, trees, it was very confusing. I met an off-the-grid guy who told me he was really lucky that he made it through the high tide. We introduced ourselves, but didn't say much other than wow can you believe this. Man, he said. This is what man does. I turned around and started the two-mile walk home, failing to find the Mantoloking Bridge and a way to leave the island.
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| I've never seen the bay so high for so long. The day after the storm. |
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| What used to be a huge sand dune is now a clear view to the waves |
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| Flattened beach |
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| Watching the waves from Route 35 |
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| Camp Osborn burned for a second night, unreachable because of the new inlets and debris everywhere. |
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| The second morning at Osprey Dunes. So weird. |
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| Forty-five degree poles at Brick 3 where the ocean met the bay |
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| House in the road. Camp Osborn. |
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| Through wind, waves, and fire the Thunderbird remians. |
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| The remains of Camp Osborn |
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| By the second day there was nothing left to burn. The gas flame kept raging. |
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| A flattened beach and a different looking pier |
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| Deauville |
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| Bay Boulevard in Lavallette |
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| House in the road, Lavallette. Getting to the 37 Bridge was like going through a maze. All I wanted to do was get off the island. |
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| Another house in the road, Lavallette. |
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| Leaving the island, lucky to be alive and well. |
The Great Storm of 2012. While attempting to know the purpose of the Great Storm is a lofty endeavor, what the storm is, is a line in the sand between eras at the shore. The era before the Great Storm, and the era after the Great Storm. That is what it will be. Life at the shore before the storm, and life after the storm. Just like that, the consciousness of those who have a part of themselves at the shore has changed. Not many things have such an impact on so many people, that's the power of the weather.
This information has been recovered with appreciation
