TREASURE ISLAND, Fla. – In my 50 years living in Florida, I’ve experienced hurricanes before, but Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton were two entirely different beasts that destroyed my home, each leaving their marks in unexpected ways.
Helene passed 100 miles offshore from where I grew up in Treasure Island, its path aimed at the Big Bend of north Florida. In contrast, Milton came ashore just 40 miles south of Siesta Key as a weaker Category 3 hurricane. Yet, the impacts they brought to the Suncoast could not have been more different.
Helene’s legacy was the water—tremendous storm surges that left my home and most others on the barrier islands underwater. The storm pushed three feet of saltwater into my house, with the closest tide gauge in Clearwater Beach recording an astonishing 6.7 feet of surge. Even the infamous 1993 Storm of the Century and Hurricane Elena in 1985 couldn’t reach those levels.
The science behind Helene’s surge is fascinating, albeit terrifying when you’re on the receiving end. Helene’s fast-forward speed of 23 mph and its strong onshore winds worked in tandem to create an unusually high storm surge. But the real kicker lies in the unique characteristics of this part of the West Florida coast. The eastern Gulf of Mexico’s shallow continental shelf is a perfect breeding ground for a phenomenon known as Kelvin wave propagation.
PREVIOUS STORY: ‘I don’t know if I’m ready’: Meteorologist Mark Collins returns to his Gulf Coast hometown after Helene’s devastation
Kelvin waves occur when storms trap water along the coast, pushing it along the continental shelf, amplifying storm surges to levels higher than would be expected from similar storms anywhere else in the United States. This so-called “Perfect Surge” effect made Helene’s storm surge particularly devastating, as the water had nowhere to go but inland, overwhelming homes like mine on barrier islands.
Milton, in stark contrast, brought a completely different set of challenges. Despite being a Category 3 storm with peak winds just over 100 mph, the wind direction pushed water away from the coast, resulting in a negative storm surge in Tampa Bay. We were spared from saltwater flooding, but Milton had other destructive plans.
MORE: Meteorologist Mark Collins shares lessons learned from Helene as Florida braces for Milton’s impact
The rain—more than a foot of it—poured relentlessly, and the winds tore apart homes. My roof didn’t stand a chance. Northerly winds, ripped a section of my roof off its truss and threw it into my front yard.
Interestingly, Milton defied the typical hurricane pattern of weaker winds on the left side. Drier air eroding the southern eyewall resulted in stronger winds on the northern side, causing extensive damage and power outages in areas on the “weaker” left side.
I visited neighbors’ homes and noticed sliding doors, whether old or recently remodeled, were no match for the onslaught of horizontal, wind-driven rain. Just like mine, water seeped through the flashing, soaking the walls and floors, a scenario unimaginable during Helene’s much lighter two-inch rainfall. It makes me realize storm shutters are probably a better investment than the expense of fancy impact windows for keeping out blowing rain.
While the structural damage between the two storms was different, so too was the aftermath. Helene’s surge damage was localized to the coastal areas, but Milton spread its destruction over a broader area, leaving behind massive tree damage, widespread power outages and record rainfall well over a foot.
Cleanup has been slow, mainly by hand. Fuel shortages mean that there’s no power for generators or tools. I’ve spent the weekend removing a 20-foot section of roof that flew over the house into my front yard—thanks to a trusty sledgehammer, which has become my go-to tool. If you’re building a hurricane preparedness kit, don’t forget to include one!
Helene and Milton were stark reminders of the impacts of hurricanes even when the eyewall does not strike your neighborhood. One came with water, the other with wind and rain miles from direct landfall.
After 28 years of covering hurricanes on television in Florida, I’ve never seen such devastating quick back-to-back storms. I know firsthand their turmoil and this experience will help me guide viewers through this emotional ordeal which I truly hope no one will need to face.