“I thought this was an unlisted phone,” he complained to the map crew. “It is,” replied an assistant. “We gave the number only to the radio, press, and a few others, to make sure we could get a call out when we had to, but these restricted phone numbers leak out. We’ll have to change the number again.”
Norton squeezed between the map man and the wall and sat down at the teletypewriter in the corner after the operator had stepped out into the hall. The office was crowded and when one man wanted to leave his place, nearly everybody else had to stand up to make room. Norton rang a bell, rattled the teletypewriter, and finally got Commander Loveland on the line down at the Navy office.
This was an exclusive line—Weather Bureau to Navy—and Norton pecked out a message. “Looks like a bad hurricane out there. It’s maybe three days from Florida if it comes here, but it probably won’t. Looks like it would go up toward the Carolinas. We can’t be sure. Maybe we should have a recco this morning. What do you think?”
“Think we can get one up there from Puerto Rico this morning,” came the message from Loveland. “I’ll see what I can do. Did you check with the Army?”
“Yes, the Major talked to Colonel Ellsworth and he says they expect to get a plane out there from Borinquen this afternoon. Also, I asked for clearance on a public message yesterday and got an OK last night.”
At that time, because of the war, public releases about storms along the coast were still restricted and had to be cleared with Naval Operations in Washington. If enemy submarines learned that planes were being evacuated from airports on the seaboard, they were emboldened to come out in the open and attack shipping along the coast. Oil tankers and other ships would have a bad enough time in the storm without running into submarines openly on the prowl. But the Chiefs of Staff had to balance this against the possible loss of life and property in coastal communities.
On their mission to explore the storm, the Navy crew from Puerto Rico ran into heavy rain and turbulence. Visibility was nil as they approached the center. They stayed down low to keep a view of the ocean but found the altimeter badly in error. As soon as they broke out of the clouds, they found the sea was much closer than they had figured. The plane was almost completely out of control several times. They changed course, got out of the storm, sent a message to Miami, and returned to Ramey Field in Puerto Rico.
Steadily the hurricane kept on a west-northwest course, increasing in size and violence. As it went along, the aircraft of the Navy and Air Forces were on its heels and driving toward the center, like gnats around an angry bull. It was headed for the Carolinas; everybody was agreed on that now. Ships were in trouble, running to get from between the hurricane and the coast as the winds closed in, and anxious people waited for the next report.
At that time, a hurricane was thought to have four stages of existence. First was the formation stage, often with circulatory winds and rain developing in a pressure wave coming westward over the Atlantic or Caribbean. Second, it quickly concentrated into a small but very violent whirl and, over a relatively small area, had the most violent winds of its existence. In this stage it might not have been more than one hundred miles in diameter. Third, it became a mature storm, spreading out, and although its winds did not become any more violent, they spread over a much larger area, maybe as much as three hundred miles, or more, in diameter. Fourth was the stage of decay, when it began to lose its almost circular shape and the winds began to diminish. Now it went off to the northward and became an extra-tropical storm or struck inland in the south and died with torrential rains and squally winds.
This hurricane seemed to be an exception. As it spread out to cover a bigger area, its winds seemed to develop greater fury. A Navy plane went in as it approached the Carolinas and found extreme turbulence, winds estimated at 140 miles an hour, torrential rain that penetrated the airplane, and no visibility through the splatter and smear on the windows. And when the stalwart crew came down below the clouds, the sea was a welter of foam, with gusts wiping the tops off waves that reached up to tremendous heights.