Rebuilding a struggle on Bahamas island smashed by hurricane

The streets are filled with smashed cars, snapped power cables, shattered trees and deep silence.

At the airport and dock, hundreds of people clamour for seats on airplanes and berths on ships arriving with aid and departing with people who lost their homes when deadly Hurricane Dorian struck the Bahamas.

Nearly a week after disaster roared in from the sea, the rest of Marsh Harbour on AbacoIsland felt empty Saturday. A hot wind whistled through stands of decapitated pine trees and homes that collapsed during the most powerful hurricane in the northwestern Bahamas' recorded history.

Rescue teams were still trying to reach some Bahamian communities isolated by floodwaters and debris after the disaster that killed at least 44people.

The U.S. Coast Guard said it has rescued a total of 290 people in the northern Bahamas following the hurricane. Six MH-60 Jayhawk helicopters and nine cutters are helping in the aid effort, while the government of the Bahamas says more than 900 members of the Bahamian police and military are on Abaco and Grand Bahama islands to help with hurricane relief.

The government also says 120 Jamaican security personnel arrived in the Bahamas on Saturday evening, and 100 troops from Trinidad and Tobago are to arrive Sunday as part of the aid effort in the wake of Hurricane Dorian.

Due to the considerable air traffic, Bahamaian officials banned non-aid flights over theAbaco and Grand Bahama islands. The National Emergency Management agency also threatened to revoke flight permission from any pilots charging fees to fly people from the islands.

The struggle to stay

No official figures were available, but much of the population of Marsh Harbour, home to most of the roughly 20,000 residents of Abaco, seemed to have already left. Many were staying with relatives in the capital, Nassau, others with family in Florida and other parts of the United States.

In Marsh Harbour's Murphy Town neighbourhood, on a hill overlooking the azure sea, Jackson Blatch and his son-in-law were already rebuilding. In a blazing midday sun they stripped damaged shingles from Blatch's roofs and tossed them into his truck, parked below the eaves of a home he built by hand.

Like a few other Abaco residents, Blatch is staying on an island pulverized by nature.

"Everybody says, 'Leave.' Leave and go where?" Blatch asked. "My plan is to rebuild this island. I have a lot to offer."

Blatch has power from a generator, drinking water, food and the help of his son-in-law, 25-year-old Moses Monestine.

"I don't have a mortgage. I don't want to go to Nassau," he said. "I don't want to go to the United States. I don't want to depend on anyone."

Though Blatch is determined to stay, many others have chosen to leave, catching rescue flights to Nassau. Aweek after the hurricaneplowed into the archipelago nation of400,000 people, the capital city faced a wave of thousands ofevacuees fleeing such hard-hit areas as Marsh Harbour, where some 90 per cent of the infrastructure is damaged ordestroyed.

There are roughly 70,000 people in need of food and shelter, according tothe United Nations World Food Program's estimate. Interviewswith evacuees this week shone light on the extent of Dorian'sdestruction. Survivors avoided death, but have lost homes, jobsand hospitals.

"Home is more than four walls and a roof it's theneighbourhood where people live, their friends and neighbours,their livelihoods, comfort, and security for the future. Losing all these things at once is heartbreaking," said Jenelle Eli, aspokeswoman for the American Red Cross, which is helping with the relief.

"People are concerned about their next step, but also howthey'll earn an income and what their lives will look like inthe future."

Bahamian officials acknowledged on Saturday that Nassau willstrain to house all the people that need shelter.

More aid needed

The Red Cross said it had committed an initial $2.6 million to help, and Norwegian energy company Equinor said on Sunday itwill clean up an onshore oil spill discovered this week at itsBahamas storage terminal.

Meanwhile, the United Nations said eight tonnesof food supplies were on the way by ship. Some 14,700 ready-to-eat meals as well as logistical and telecommunicationsequipment are being delivered, said Herve Verhoosel, spokesman for the World Food Programme.

"The needs remain enormous," Verhoosel said.

Many in Marsh Harbour echo that claim,and complain aid has been too slow in arriving.

"They haven't done a thing to help us down here," shoutedTepeto Davis, a 37-year-old tile contractor who slammed on thebrakes of his pickup truck and backed up to talk to reporters.

"We are suffering out here and no one cares about us. We've hadto funnel gasoline out of destroyed cars to get injured peopleback and forth. There's no gas, there's no food, no medicine,and no water."

And those who were receiving aid in Nassau worried that theywere still a long way from being able to rebuild their lives.

"The government says everyone's being fed, and that's good,"said Anthony Morley, 61, who fled Marsh Harbour and was stayingat Breezes, a Nassau resort where local volunteers havesubsidized rooms for survivors. "But for food I can fish. What Ineed is a house. I don't have a bed, a refrigerator. I don'teven have a Bible."