Stories from the storm

Robert Lineberger said he has been docked in St. Marys for about a month waiting on a head gasket for the inboard motor on his 41-foot sailboat, Cynthia, which he calls home.
"It was supposed to be delivered yesterday," said Lineberger, who anchored his home in the river to keep it from crashing into the slips or other boats in the marina.
Lineberger, who's lived on boats for 21 years, said he'd wait out the storm at Knucklehead's, a souvenir, snacks and live bait shop just off the water. His two dogs Camo and Shelby stood behind the shop's counter.
Shelby and Lineberger endured Hurricane Katrina at sea on the Gulf of Mexico and he said he had no intention of ever doing it again.
"Katrina made me a believer not to ride them out no more," he said. "I wouldn't ride this one out if I had any alternative."

St. Simons: To take arms against a sea of troubles . . .

A heavy rainfall began early Friday on St. Simons Island, now a ghost town. Many of the stores here are shuttered, boarded up or lined with sandbags. Someone got creative at the Beachview Hand Books store, quoting Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" on one of the shop's plywood shields: "Belike for want of rain, which I could well between them from the tempest of my eyes." Another plywood board on the other side of the store simply says: "Matthew -- You can leave now."

Brunswick: 'I can swim, but I can't swim all that'

Daniel Blue spent Friday morning on his bicycle in downtown Brunswick wearing a clear poncho looking for a working ATM. He wanted the cash for last-minute storm preparations. Blue lives alone, save Precious — his 6-year-old Collie-shepherd mix. But their hopes were dashed by a boarded-up Wells Fargo fortified with sandbags. He has sandbags at his home, too. "When the water starts rising, it's time to go," he said. "I can swim, but I can't swim all that." Blue said most folks aren't respecting the storm like he is. Some of his neighbors are sitting on their porches. "A lot of us are being hard-headed," said the 31-year-old Brunswick native. "We feel like it's going to pass like it normally do, but it may hit this time," he said. "It sounds like a biblical storm."

McIntosh County: ‘They just kind of blew us off’

McIntosh County officials used an outlet mall as a staging area for buses to evacuate residents who didn’t have a ride out. The turnout was “very small,” said County Manager Patrick Zoucks. “There were several residents yesterday who when the deputies went out and told them we are under a mandatory evacuation – they said they were going to stay. We told them emergency service might not be available during the storm. They just kind of blew us off.”

Brunswick: 'Happy Hurricane Day'

Suleimon Solomon, owner of Adam’s Meat Market in Brunswick, says he can’t close his store because he is waiting for a big meat order from North Carolina. So his market is the only place open to get eggs, milk, candy, aspirin and even a cold beer. “Happy Hurricane Day,” Solomon greets his customers as they come in. Solomon said he intends to remain open throughout the storm. “If I am here and there is a small problem, I can help make it smaller,” Solomon said. “As long as it is not life-threatening, no need to run.”

Kingsland: Utility trucks on the long road south

Kevin Lynch and his utility crew with Tri-M Group were filling up their trucks at a Kingsland Raceway station, one of the few stations still open Friday morning.  It was a last stop for fuel and snacks before crossing over into Florida, where the convoy of about 15 trucks planned to make their way to an inland staging area in Lake City. Among Lynch's choices: chocolate cupcakes and a Mountain Dew. He said his crew drove nearly 800 miles from Pennsylvania on Thursday. "Last night about 66,000 were out," Lynch said of power outages in North Florida. "It's 299,000 now."

Tybee Island: 'It's like an adventure to me'

Almost everyone was gone by this evening. A warning siren wailed into the empty streets followed by a disembodied voice stating the obvious: “We are under a hurricane warning.” Occasionally someone ventured out, if the rains subsided long enough and the boredom became too much. “Everybody thinks I’m crazy and stupid,” said Sonja Edleman, a 45-year resident of Tybee. “But I don’t care. It’s like an adventure to me. I’ve stayed out here for every storm that’s come this way. I just prepare good and I don’t scare easily. I’m watching the TV and I’m pretty sure it won’t be as  bad as Florida or the Bahamas. It seems to be dropping off some as it comes up here.” Edleman has waited tables at the Sunrise  diner for 28 years. She stopped by to feed the fish this morning before the worst of Matthew hit. “I remember all the earlier storms,” she said. “I remember Floyd and David and the little tiny ones. David was pretty hairy. I remember that one. We had a big party up there by the museum. There was a lot of rain and wind, but the water didn’t come up like we expected it to.”

St. Simons: 'We are prepared – but not that prepared’

Dave Schoeppner and his wife and their dog had planned to ride it out on St. Simons. But they changed their minds based on the dire warnings they were hearing about Hurricane Matthew. “We wanted to stick it out, but the storm surge is scaring us,” he said moments before heading down Redfern Drive toward Waycross, where they plan to sleep in the camper attached to his truck. ‘We are prepared -- but not that prepared.”

St. Marys: Knee-deep water

In downtown St. Marys, water was about knee high about 3:15 p.m. as the storm surge pushed water about two blocks inland. A few game souls tried to brave the waters on foot, on bike or in their cars. But they quickly turned back. Camden County emergency services pulled vehicles off the roads and suspended 911 service in the face of sustained tropical storm force winds and rain.

Sea Island: Secure the windows — and the wine cellar

Jane Fraser vowed to stay on Sea Island and ride out Hurricane Matthew. "We boarded up the windows, unlocked the wine cellar and are hunkered down," said Fraser, who has lived on the barrier island favored by well-heeled Atlantans since 1994. "The last time we had a mandatory evacuation it was nothing. If it looked like a direct hit, we would've already left." That was Wednesday. Today? She was in a “dingy motel room” along I-95 “and grateful to be alive.” She added, “No time for frivolity today.”

Brunswick: ‘This is my first hurricane and my last hurricane’

A bleary-eyed Diane Najar ambled around a motel lobby and made a firm declaration: “This is my first hurricane and my last hurricane,” said Najar, originally from El Paso, Texas. “I’m leaving.” She and her husband bought a condo on St. Simons a year and a half ago and planned to stay three to five years. Not  now. Najar said she’s been surprised how her co-workers and other locals brushed off the storm. Another thing is making her anxious: She doesn’t know how to swim. “I’m afraid it’s going to be another Katrina,” she said.

St. Simons: ‘I don’t think we are going to have a problem’

George Gustavson decided to stay in his one bedroom apartment, keeping one eye on his TV and another on his laptop, which was showing real-time video of the island’s blustery pier. A retired computer salesman from Dunwoody, he had stocked up on cereal, milk and juice. Two Bibles sitting by his side, Gustavson added that he and a few neighbors were keeping an eye on each other and were prepared to drain the pool at their apartment complex if things go south. “I have got everything I need here,” said Gustavson, who moved here in January. “But I don’t think we are going to have a problem."

St. Marys: 'Everybody else wanted to leave'

James Wilson watched the rain and wind gathered strength before dawn Friday from the balcony outside his room at the Cumberland Kings Bay Lodge. The southern tip of Georgia's coast is included in a mandatory evacuation zone. "Everybody else wanted to leave, but I told them I wasn't going anywhere," he said. The streets of St. Marys were largely empty, though there were cars in motel and apartment parking lots and in a number of driveways. Many shops had their windows taped and few businesses other than Wilson's motel were open. "I'm mad it's raining," he said. "I really want to get some coffee."

Savannah/Tybee: No ships, no people

Savannah was bunkered down Friday morning. A few cars plied Bay Street. The river – the economic life’s blood of this city – is void of container ships and tugs. The state ports at Garden City, just upriver from empty and spooky River Street, closed Friday. Twenty miles east of downtown into the Atlantic Ocean and closer to Hurricane Matthew’s eye – Tybee Island waits. Tybee, the popular and laid-back tourist town for Atlantans and others, was the region’s first community to order a mandatory evacuation. Most, not all, residents heeded that advice. “The National Weather Service advised us that there’s a chance Highway 80 (the only route onto the island) will be covered in water not only at high tide, but low tide too,” Tybee Mayor Jason Buelterman said in a YouTube video. “We don’t want anybody stranded out here.”