Tracking the hurricanes of Southern California

To be a Weather Channel newscaster must be fun.

These intrepid souls fly all over the country and into the heart

of meteorological disasters. They are paid to face the fury of the

storm instead of evacuating with the masses. They stand against the

onslaught of hurricane-force rain and storm surges, protected only by

a thin layer of colorful GoreTex, enduring gale force winds as they

explain how bad it is out there.

Heck, we could do that.

Several weeks of watching hurricanes Katrina, Ophelia and now Rita

have left us hankering for a piece of the news coverage action. We

headed to the beach this past weekend to see how Hurricane Kenneth

was doing out in the Pacific.

You may not have heard of Kenneth, but it’s a big storm -- one of

three out to the south and west of us. Lidia and Max are waiting in

the wings off the coast of Mexico, picking up strength.

With 138 mph winds, Kenneth is a doozy of a Pacific storm. It

whipped up some magnificent waves on Friday and Saturday. Everyone

who owned a surfboard was in the water.

We had to search high and low for a parking space, something that

those TV weather guys in their news vans don’t have to worry about.

To bring you the latest on Hurricane Kenneth, we endured balmy

temperatures, dry skies and a gentle breeze. We had bagels and coffee

as we watched wave after wave roll in.

Too bad this column isn’t televised.

We saw a lot of great surfing, plus some spectacular wipeouts on

those six- to eight-foot waves, as the storm-driven cirrus clouds

made lovely cuneiform images across the sky.

The Weather Channel predicted rain here on Monday afternoon.

Vic was in class, so I bravely did “storm coverage” by myself. I

drove past Wieder Linear Park on Seapoint and parked by the willow

trees in the swale.

It was 3 p.m., but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I could make

out a faint outline of the San Gabriel Mountains past Los Angeles,

and the twin peaks of Orange County’s Saddleback Mountain loomed out

of the smog to the east.

I walked the half-mile trail around Huntington bluff, noting the

progress on the Bolsa Chica restoration project in the distance to

the north. The riprap-lined channel is taking shape and deepening,

and berms are rising. All the people who fought so long and hard to

save the lowlands can be proud of what is happening down there.

A few of us -- especially Terry Dolton -- also fought to save the

willows lining the swale on Huntington Mesa. The trees have

flourished, and the freshwater wetlands below were filled with

cattails, bulrushes and birds. But Hurricane Kenneth and the

predicted rain were nowhere to be seen.

I drove south on PCH to Goldenwest under cloudless blue skies.

Being a stormcaster in Huntington Beach wasn’t going to earn me

hazard pay.

But finally I saw it. The parallel lines of palms along PCH faded

to a point on the horizon to the south. There were the predicted

storm clouds. Peachy pink cumulus clouds bubbled up over south Orange

County, layered on the bottom by streaks of heavy lavender. We don’t

expect CNN to cover Hurricane Kenneth in Huntington Beach. Or Lidia

or Max either.

If you’re curious, you can track them at o7www.osei.noaa.gov/f7.

Still, it is good to be prepared, so we put the cover on the gas

grill and closed the sunroof on our SUV. So much for our hurricane

preparations.

In reality, hurricanes aren’t funny. We have various relatives who

were in the path of hurricanes Katrina, Ophelia and now Rita.

Vic’s sister Ann recently moved to Diamondhead, Miss., which was

devastated by Katrina. Fortunately, Ann’s house only lost two

shingles, and a falling branch dented her rain gutter. The house

across the street from her was flattened by that capricious storm,

however.

Ann’s neighbors told her she was lucky, even blessed, but she

feels neither blessed nor lucky as she sees the damage, despair, and

disrupted lives around her. When people are surrounded by

homelessness, joblessness and hopelessness, they don’t feel lucky.

They feel guilty that they were spared.

Our niece Kasey Wright lives in North Carolina. Nephew Kortney

Wilson lives in Virginia. Both were drenched by Hurricane Ophelia.

Niece Kristen Wilson recently moved to Key West. She’s had to

evacuate in the face of Rita, which at press time is headed across

the keys to Houston, where it may visit many of the New Orleans

evacuees.

Scientists have been predicting for years that greater global

warming will bring storms of increased number and intensity. We’ve

been urging the government to restore coastal wetlands instead of

subsidizing people who build on lowlands, flood plains and sandbars.

Through our taxes, we will all pay for the coming damage in this era

of ever more destructive storms.

Is anyone listening? Does anyone care?

* VIC LEIPZIG and LOU MURRAY are Huntington Beach residents and

environmentalists. They can be reached at [email protected].

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