OutFront-Hurricane Luis

9-10-1995
^By ANDREW SELSKY=
^Associated Press Writer=
   PHILIPSBURG, St. Maarten (AP) _ At Simon and Jude's Anglican-Episcopal Church, the sound of a hymn flowed through shattered windows onto the street, where workers cleared uprooted palm trees, downed street signs and chunks of buildings.
   "We thank you, Lord. Most of all, this morning, we thank you for sparing so many lives in the midst of the hurricane," intoned pastor Keith Gittens. "I do hope we will gain only strength from what has happened to us from Hurricane Luis."
   Five days after one of the century's most powerful hurricanes bore down on this Dutch-French Caribbean island, the sounds of pounding hammers and slashing machetes resounded Sunday as people began to rebuild.
   Although the Dutch closed the border with the French side, imposed a curfew and barred reporters, an AP team flew to the French side in a chartered helicopter on Saturday and slipped into St. Maarten with relief officials. They came upon devastation.
   With winds of up to 130 mph, Luis had exploded homes and turned corrugated tin roofs into flying missiles and wrapped them around trees. Debris was thrown hundreds of yards up hillsides that turned from green to brown as the storm stripped away vegetation. Shantytowns had become junkyards of mangled iron and plywood. Even cement and plaster buildings were demolished.
   But the dominant mood of the people was one of thankfulness.
   "All the houses is mashed up, man, but 99.9 percent of the people survived," said Charles Peltier, who lives in St. Peter, one of the worst-hit neighborhoods of the capital Philipsburg.
   On Sunday people were already searching for usable lumber and metal among the debris to rebuild their homes. Haitians and Dominicans who live illegally in the shantytowns fetched buckets of water from cisterns and relief centers.
   "You all right?" they asked reporters in the Caribbean lilt, as if it was a visiting reporter's home that had been destroyed.
   But for all the cheer, there was no hiding the losses the storm had caused and the hardship that lies ahead.
   At Simpson's Bay Lagoon, where people were advised to take their yachts and boats for protection against the hurricane, military frogmen dove in the azure waters, clearing two sunken yachts from a channel into the sea and looking for bodies or possible survivors.
   The Red Cross confirmed two dead in St. Maarten, one from a heart attack and another from flying debris, and denied that bodies were found in the hundreds of smashed and sunken boats searched Saturday. In Amsterdam, Dutch Interior Ministry spokesman Ger Bodewitz said Sunday there were five dead.
   One person was killed on the French side of the island, said Capt. Jean Bonnerie, a doctor with the French air force. Damage there was not as widespread, though half the terminal at Grand-Case airport was demolished and planes were tossed into a nearby lagoon.
   Radio Caraibe Internationale, broadcasting from Guadeloupe, reported 10 dead on the entire island, while Radio France Outre-Mers, the official French overseas radio station, has reported as many as 30 dead.
   "The expectation is that the death toll will be higher, of course, but now I can confirm only two deaths," said Izzy Gerstenbluth, a Dutch Department of Health representative and Red Cross official.
   The storm ripped up telephone poles, crumpled satellite dishes like paper and nearly destroyed the island's electricity and water desalination plants, leaving islanders without power or communications and with little water.
   Helicopters dangled water-filled bladders from their bellies and carried in supplies from the Dutch ship Van Amstel, sent with desalination equipment to help in the disaster. Trucks also were distributing water.
   Doctors fear people drinking dirty water will contract diarrhea and other diseases.
   Red Cross volunteers put up military tents for the 5,000-7,000 homeless, many of whom have been sleeping in the streets.
   Thousands of tourists continued their exodus from the island, waiting hours in the hot sun outside Princess Juliana airport terminal to go home or go anywhere. It was if they were abandoning ship.
   "Families with children first," said a notice at the Pelican Resort and Casino, advising of flights out.
   In full combat gear, Dutch marines shouldering FAL assault rifles controlled the stranded tourists jamming the airport and scared away looters sifting through foot-high debris in a supermarket. Looters fled with everything from champagne to dishwashing liquid.
   One Dutch marine, trying to keep order among the would-be evacuees, cursed out a tourist who was complaining loudly about the slow line.
   Boeing 747s and other large jets had begun arriving Saturday, giving vacationers, mostly from Europe and the United States, their first chance to leave the island since the hurricane hit.
   "It's such chaos," said Trevor Berringer, an attorney from Baltimore, Md. "It didn't matter if you had a confirmed flight or not. You couldn't even get to the door (of the terminal)."
   Berringer was hoping for better luck Sunday.
   Most hotels will be closed for weeks while they renovate. Aviation officials discouraged travel into St. Maarten by outsiders, and said they wanted to see only insurance adjusters arrive.
   The 50,000 people who live on the island have already begun to face the task of putting their lives back together.
   "There was a lot of damage, but no one was hurt here," said Joshua Leconte of Marigot Hill, another torn-up neighborhood. "Thank God for that."