VALENTINES DAY 2021.

     The snowfall came in on cats feet Wednesday night, it left on rhinoceros legs four days later. Before the Valentines day weekend had passed houses would be crushed by falling trees, cars would be damaged either in accidents, or by falling limbs, electrical grids would suffer rolling blankets, power lines would be downed from the northern states down through Georgia, Louisiana, Oklahoma and Texas. One Texan Senator saw himself mocked for taking his family to Cancun, Mexico while his constituants froze in unheated homes and were required to boil drinking water. One popular joke said that Ted Cruz was the first hispanic-American to flee to Mexico to escape ICE. A popular meme had Ted in a beach-chair sitting next to Chris Christie who fled to the Jersey Shore after hurricane Sandy. Bernie Sanders, clad in his Green parka with his hands encased in those iconic mittens crossed across his chest sat grumpily in the background. It was not a happy time for most people,but irony has its highest purpose at such times.

     Pinky and I had made plans to spend Friday night on the coast. We were still confident that we would be able to leave Friday morning. Black ice and Highway 20 being blocked with a traffic pileup required us to cancel that plan. It was an unusual event, here in Portland. Even more so in the marina since the water keeps temperatures higher than ground temperature. Snow was piled on top of boats, sidewalks, the fuel dock, and the corrugated roofs of the covered moorings. My slip was in one of those covered moorages. I am just three months from starting my third year as a live-aboard. My 27' Bayliner cabin cruiser had been my home. For a while I shared it with Pinky, my girlfriend and my shipmate Gracie, an eight-year-old grey cat who we adopted from a veterinarian clinic. Pinky had moved to an assisted-living center which would be better for some of her chronic health problems and a touch of dementia. Marina life can be a challenge when you get older and chronic medical conditions start stacking up. I'm seeing this more clearly as I struggle with bursitis in my hip. When I bought my boat, her name was Dixie Girl, given her by the woman I purchased her from. I don't use that name because I do not wish to honor those states south of the Mason-Dixon line, for historical and political reasons. My first lesson as a boat-owner was that it is like throwing $100 bills in a hole in the water. Unbeknownst to me, the reverse lock-out on the outdrive did not work. I had no reverse. The Volvo Penta engine hummed, she could move forward but not backwards. My plans for hauling her out and having the outdrive fixed were put on hold due to transmission trouble on my car. Those funds went into a used car, my boat remained moored. Robert Service in one of his poems, explained the meaning of the word, sourdough. Until one has seen the winter through, you are a mere cheechaco. I am now solidly in the sourdough fold. 

     Thursday the marina north of us crashed down. That morning the snow was piled thick on the walkways I traversed to the bathroom and shower. It was like the powder snow I used to relish as a skiier. It quickly soaked through my canvas deck shoes, I had not needed better shoes in previous years. Gracie was puzzled by the snow as she looked out of the windows. I had intended to do some grocery-shopping but could not drive up the steep driveway from the parking garage. I did my laundry instead. On the way back from the laundry room I stopped to chat with Andrew, the harbor-master. He was staring over at A-dock, my dock, with a worried look on his face.

          "HI, Andrew, ever seen a snowstorm like this in Portland?" My speech was muffled through my mask. 

            "I remember something like this in the 1980s. There haven't been many. I'm a little concerned about the load on your roofs. See that finger-pier next to Stay Sea?

          "It's dipping a little close to the water," I answered.

           " The finger piers are hinged at the walkway. Theoretically the finger piers will dip down and the snow will slide off the roof. I hope the theory holds. You may want to prepare to leave your slip." Where do I go?" I asked. Andrew knows about my problem with reverse. "We're gonna be watching this closely,  we'll  make an open slip available". 

The following morning the marina north of us came crashing down on the boats it was intended to protect. It was a sickening sound. I got out of my bunk and dressed warmly, then stepped out onto the finger pier to survey the damage. The  Sellwood Bridge that once was partially obscured from my vision was now visible in its entirety with the Ross Island Bridge in the distance. There were no liveaboards in that marina, so it was only the boats that were damaged. Some may have sunk at their moorings. Later the fire boats came in to spread a floating yellow oil-protection barrier. Gracie was visibly nervous. She had hidden herself in the cubbyholes that had been her early refuge while she got used to her new home and her new parents. This had earned her her family name, Scroedinger, for the book on quantum physics, Schroedingers Cat. The snow continued until late afternoon when it changed to a light rain. By nightfall the rain had frozen atop the snow, adding more weight to the trusses. I woke up Saturday morning with my boat heeled to port. I quickly dressed and went out on the stern deck. The end of the finger-pier was now under about 3 feet of water. My stern line was cleated off to that fixture and pulled taut. I ran inside and opened my knife to cut the dock-line. The boat righted herself but I was now at the mercy of the ebb and flow of the water. My bow was firmly held and my power cord was still in place, but I swung back and forth within the confines of the slip. Luckily, there was no boat in the companion slip. A couple of guys with boats across from me asked if I needed help and I explained my dilemma. One of them started his Zodiac and moved across the water.  I started my engine and let it warm up. Andrew had arrived about that time and unhooked my shore-power cord and my bow-line. The zodiac pushed my bow around until I could engage the transmission into the forward position. A quick burst pushed me toward an open slip and my momentum was halted by Andrew and another slip owner. Dock-lines were made fast, my shore power was hooked into place and I was now safe with a view from my stern to my former slip. The trusses still held, though other boats unoccupied, were heeling in the direction of the submerged docklines. 

     Sunday morning, I resumed my normal routine, clean the litter box, feed Gracie, make coffee, and then breakfast for myself. Gracie was uninterested in her breakfast. As I was eating my breakfast I heard the snap of timbers and the roof falling on all but the last two sections of my dock. Had I been in my slip I would have been under all of that wood and aluminum. As the day went on D-dock collapsed on the boats moored under the shelter. E-dock went next. The snow on the no-longer protective roof was frozen to the sheeting. It did not slip off into the water until the weather warmed on Tuesday.

     As I write this in the first week of March the clean-up has begun in the marina to the north. When they have finished there, they will start cleaning the damage here. Removing debris from the water requires a barge to move the damaged trusses onto and then to push it down river to I don't know where. In the meantime insurance adjusters are busy dealing with damage estimates. No on yet knows where the marina insurance stops and the boat-owners insurance takes over. This will not be resolved quickly.

     It is not possible to say with surety that this could have been prevented. Though rare, snowstorms have crippled Portland before. But it is fair to say that science has been warning us of weather anomolies for somewhere around four decades. The Polar Vortex that drove this freeze as far south as Texas was predicted, as was the concurrent melting of the permafrost in the Arctic. They were part of the global climate change package. One particular party has refused to acknowledge science for those same four decades. "It was a hoax", they said. It would be wasteful to spend the money for mitigation, they said. Government is too big already, they said. Perhaps the lesson will now be understood, but I am doubtful. Meanwhile the cost of repairs will be grater than the cost for mitigation.