The wind diminished slightly throughout morning.  I was anxious to find out just exactly what was going on with this damn storm.  If what we experienced the previous night was what the locals considered  “diminished”, I was not looking forward to what we could expect when the storm was “gone”.  Clearly there was a communications problem here.

I arrived at the marina office before it opened.  That stupid 5:00 PM advisory from the day before was still there.  I had the fortune of meeting a local resident, an ex-747 pilot from Air France, who explained the whole thing to me.  He told me that a greatly weakened Tropical Storm Lenny had glanced off the northeast coast of Guadeloupe (Advisory 28) in the early morning, and had passed as close as 120 miles from our location.  But that was not what caused all the overnight commotion. 

For the previous three days, while the center of Lenny hovered over St. Maarten, the local wind was out of the southwest.  We were anchored behind a formidable mountain range, protected from both wind and waves.  The wind had always been there, we just never got any of it.  When Lenny moved off to the east, the local wind shifted to the south, and with no protection from the surrounding mountains, we experienced its full strength.  With the wind shift, the approaches to the harbor no longer shielded us from the waves.    We finally received what had been all around us, but never knew.  That’ was why things appeared to get worse, despite the fact the storm was over.  Stupid me.

The marina manager finally printed and displayed the morning storm advisory, which stated clearly that all Tropical Storm watches had been cancelled, and that we could forget about the whole thing.  I went back to the boat, which was still experiencing 20-knot winds.  The sky was clearing, but I still was uncomfortable leaving the boat alone until the wind subsided below 15 knots.

Sunsail representatives had collected a rescue boat and tug, and were in the process of reclaiming their 50-footer that had been run aground overnight.  In no time, they had it off the reef and were motoring back to the marina.  The police boat passed right by us, carrying a very shaken family of four back to the base.  I could tell from the look on the wife’s face, that a bareboat charter was not going to be on their holiday plans for many years to come.

By 11:00 AM, a greatly diminished Tropic Storm Lenny was a mere 103 miles to the north of our position (Advisory 29).  While it was still strutting 50 knots of wind, Martinique was in its southwest quadrant, which demonstrated the least amount of activity.

Farewell Lenny - Saturday Afternoon, November 20, 1999

At 2:00 PM, the wind suddenly diminished to zero and the sun came out.  This annoying storm was over as far as we were concerned.  A round of rummers were poured and there was great rejoicing.  We decided to resume our vacation and take the car for a tour of Martinique, as we had planned all along. 

Le Marin at sunset, looking east towards the last remains of Lenny.

By 11:00 PM that night, Lenny was headed out to sea, almost spent. (Advisory 31).  Three days later, NOAA declared it extra-tropical, but nobody cared.  Life had returned to normal long before that.