On 20 September 2017, the eye of Hurricane Maria, a category 4 storm, passed directly over the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico. The observatory is still under repair, though it held up remarkably well. A full schedule of radio astronomy observations began on 7 November, and the observatory got back on the electrical grid a month later. On 19 December the planetary radar system concluded a successful run that included mapping the near-Earth asteroid Phaethon.
During the storm, husband and wife Arecibo astronomers Gerrit Verschuur and Joan Schmelz were separated by chance. Verschuur, Arecibo Observatory astronomer emeritus, sheltered at the observatory. Schmelz, the deputy director of the observatory and director of the Universities Space Research Association (USRA) program at Arecibo, was on an academic trip. Both kept diaries of their experiences; here are edited excerpts of their entries. (All photos are courtesy of Verschuur, unless otherwise noted.)
17 September
SCHMELZ: Today I flew from San Juan to San Diego, where I was invited by the Chronicle of Higher Education to be part of a panel on curbing sexual harassment in academia. Hurricane Maria, which is forecast to be a category 1 storm, has barely registered. I might have to spend an extra night or two at the Atlanta airport on my way home if the storm affects travel back to Puerto Rico.
18 September
VERSCHUUR: I topped up my car with gas on the way to the observatory. I told my colleagues that I was planning to stay in our apartment during the storm. [The apartment is on the beach in the city of Arecibo, whereas the observatory is about 24 kilometers inland.] They warned me against this course of action. A FEMA flood map showed that the storm surge would inundate the area around the apartment. Then we heard a mandatory evacuation order on the radio. I returned to the apartment and packed up some supplies. The gas station where I filled up in the morning now has a sign that they are out of gas. [Two days later, when Verschuur drove past again, the gas station was no longer there.] While loading my car, a loudspeaker truck drove by issuing dire warnings. Now I’m sheltering at Arecibo.
SCHMELZ: At my La Jolla hotel, I was catching up with friends on Facebook when I read that Maria has suddenly strengthened to a category 5. I’m shocked. Talking with Gerrit later, it’s clear that I can’t make it back to Puerto Rico to be with him and that he can’t get off the island to be with me. But I’m reassured to hear that he will be riding out the storm with friends and colleagues at the observatory, sheltering in the Visiting Scientists Quarters [VSQ], a very sturdy building made of concrete and cinder blocks.
19 September
VERSCHUUR: At 5:20pm an intense, narrow rain band passed over us, followed by a long pause and then prolonged but less intense rain. There are eight scientists, two kids, three dogs, and two rabbits sheltering at the observatory, plus two guards in the guardhouse.
SCHMELZ: Today at UC San Diego I had 30-minute chats with faculty, postdocs, and students and gave a talk about sexual harassment in academia. It’s all a bit surreal, knowing what’s happening with Gerrit in Puerto Rico but not being able to do anything about it. I still hope that Maria misses, skirting north or south of the island. But Gerrit told me over the phone that the storm is on track for a direct hit. I begged him to hunker down and not take any chances. After the call, I changed my return flight on Thursday to USRA in Maryland instead of home to Puerto Rico.
20 September
VERSCHUUR: Once the winds picked up, I decided to call Joan one last time, at 7:44am AST. When the outer bands reached the island, the power went out all over. But the observatory has its own generators and water supply, so we will be OK. I can still use my computer to monitor observatory weather station data.
The roar of the north wind before the eye reached us was awesome and terrifying. A maximum gust of 107 miles per hour was recorded before the anemometer failed. After the failure, data from a second anemometer, barometer, and rain gauge were routed internally. The roar of the wind continued as the pressure dropped. After three hours of horror, at 11:30am, the pressure stabilized. The eye had arrived.
During the lull, we wandered about in the drizzle. Many trees were down or stripped of their leaves. Worst of all, one of the antennas, the 70-foot-long, 430 MHz line feed, had been smashed, with several fragments still suspended over the dish.
After the eye passed, the wind changed to the south, making a completely different sound, with a lot of whistling in addition to a roar. Hours later we ventured outside again and saw that the remnants of the line feed were gone. They had plummeted through the surface of the dish to create about 20 jagged holes.
Today it rained 32 inches [81 centimeters]. Most of our offices are fine, but who knows what will happen during the rest of the night. We have no communication with the outside world. I am worried that Joan will be worried about us. And I dread to imagine what is happening on the rest of the island.
SCHMELZ: Today, as the hurricane crosses the island, I worry about Gerrit and the rest of the staff. I fear for the people of Puerto Rico, and I don’t even know if the telescope will survive.
Ironically, earlier in the day I gave a seminar titled “History, Science & Discovery at the Arecibo Observatory.” My hosts, aware of what is happening at home, were completely understanding. They offered me support and comfort food—pasta and chocolate ice cream.
When my academic day ended, I caught up on the storm, but there was no word from the observatory. Logically, I wasn’t expecting news, but emotionally, I wanted so much to hear that everyone was okay. There is no communication outside of the San Juan metro area. A curfew was established to limit the number of people out in the streets. The main highway is completely flooded, limiting access to the west side of the island. Most cell towers and landlines are down.
21 September
VERSCHUUR: I woke up to the rumbling of a thunderstorm—just what we didn’t need. It has rained 39.26 inches—1 meter—in just over a day. Several staff members arrived at the observatory. Reports are that local people with machetes, chain saws, and even a bulldozer helped clear paths along some local roads. A dedicated ham radio operator accepted messages from us for loved ones. In some cases, replies came back quickly to report that messages had been delivered. But then the static increased, and I couldn’t make out if they had managed to contact Joan.
SCHMELZ: I spent most of the day on one plane or another. I’ve had emails from several reporters looking for news about the observatory, but I have to tell them that there’s still no contact. Graciously, they start sending me updates. The news from the island is horrific—the entire population seems to be without power and water. I finally landed in Baltimore and took my phone out of airplane mode. A text came up immediately from a ham radio operator in Connecticut telling me that Gerrit is safe!
22 September
VERSCHUUR: Sounds of the third thunderstorm since 2:00am rumble in the distance. Will this ever let up? We heard on a portable radio that there was very heavy flooding on the island. No phone, no internet, power out over most of the island. No cell phones except around San Juan. Trees and power lines down everywhere. Dams are breaking and forcing more evacuations.
Today a satellite phone sent by USRA arrived after a tortuous path via San Juan. Observatory staff arrived with horror stories. The center of the town of Arecibo was under 9 feet of water for a brief period. Even concrete utility poles came down in places. Lines at a couple of gas stations in Arecibo were more than a mile long.
SCHMELZ: Gerrit just called on the USRA phone from Arecibo. He is safe. The observatory is in relatively good shape compared with the surrounding area, which is devastated. There is water damage in the observatory control room and transmitter operations room. Multiple panels of the catwalk up to the telescope platform blew away during the storm. Crews are going to try to go up on Monday. No news yet on the instruments inside the Gregorian dome. I scoured the internet, looking for any information on the staff. Thankfully, more and more are reporting in safe.
24 September
VERSCHUUR: There’s no air conditioning in the office building to save on diesel needed to run the generators. Diesel supplies are uncertain and in high demand. The hospitals and airport get priority, and although there are adequate supplies at the port, there are not enough drivers because they can’t get out of their homes. If we run out of diesel, the observatory will shut down, including the atomic clock, which would take many days to restart.
That afternoon, four of us drove to town and then to our apartment where, miraculously, I found our second car safe and able to start. The road between the beach and the apartment is covered in sand. I packed more food and supplies and drove back to the observatory. On the way, we saw many people filling water containers at the natural springs along the road. Overall the scenes of devastation made me want to cry. “It looks like a war zone” is an overused phrase, but there were too many similarities.
SCHMELZ: The staff tells me that only one road up to the observatory is currently passable. The 12-meter dish is damaged but not destroyed, as was originally reported via ham radio. Most VSQ facilities, visitor center, and warehouse look to be in reasonable shape. The high-frequency dipoles look good. The HF transmitter room ceiling was punctured by a tree but still not too bad. There is flooding under the dish, but water levels are said to dropping. The pump meant to remove water is under water and not functioning. The platform and cables look OK from the ground. Maintenance may try to go up tomorrow.
26 September
VERSCHUUR: All decisions on what happens next at the observatory depend on the arrival of the next diesel shipment. The Puerto Rican economy has now become cash only. Banks are closed and will not open anytime soon.
SCHMELZ: My flight tomorrow was canceled. I’m trying again on Sunday. Things are changing fast at the observatory. Detailed inspection of the platform structure, including welds and bolts, looks good. The platform crew plans to remove the pins and release the platform from lockdown mode tomorrow. A preliminary visual inspection indicates that the environment inside the Gregorian dome looks good. In other news, a diesel delivery was made today, but it was smaller than expected; acquiring diesel continues to be a challenge.
27 September
SCHMELZ: There is good scientific news today. Inspections of the platform continue, and preliminary reports indicate that there does not appear to be any significant structural damage. The telescope has been released from lockdown, and the azimuth arm and the Gregorian dome are moving. Tomorrow the electronics team will be evaluating the receivers.
28 September
VERSCHUUR: More hospitals and gas stations are opening. Some drivers had to line up for as many as nine hours to get gas, leaving their cars in line overnight. Tanker trucks making deliveries have police escorts.
I have now been living at the observatory for 10 days. The cafeteria staff prepare breakfast and lunch on weekdays, and they tell me they have enough supplies for another week. My fellow survivors now cook dinner communally. I am amazed at the variety of food that was brought to the observatory by our little group.
SCHMELZ: The 327 MHz receiver has been cooled down for observations. Motion and control on the platform are working. Things continue to look good for a few pointed observations tomorrow to test the system.
29 September
VERSCHUUR: We learned that power has been restored to San Juan airport. Some colleagues had trash pickup today, which was a tremendous relief. The coquis (tree frogs) are in full voice at night, glad to be alive. A stray cat became very friendly, and we named her Maria. She was adopted by a staff member, who soon had to deal with five kittens as well!
SCHMELZ: The observatory conducted pulsar observations today!
1 October
VERSCHUUR: I drove to San Juan to pick Joan up at the airport. Her flight is on time. In the car park I accessed the internet through my cell phone and sent off messages to friends and family. Then Joan emerged from the bowels of the terminal, and we fell into each other's arms.
