SO. MUCH. SAND. Hurricane Helene brings in mounds of sand on Estero Island, transforming the familiar landscape into a surreal beach tableau. Early risers on Fort Myers Beach found themselves staring at what looked like nature’s own peculiar masterpiece.
“We were expecting sand, but we weren’t ready for this much sand,” remarked Fort Myers Beach Mayor Dan Allers, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. The relentless storm surge had spilled from the Gulf, blanketing Estero Boulevard and Times Square in a thick layer of tan, coarse sand.
Watch below to see the aftermath of Helene on Fort Myers Beach:
SO. MUCH. SAND. Hurricane Helene brings in mounds of sand on Estero Island
The mornings after hurricanes often tell stories of resilience and recovery, but they also expose vulnerabilities. “It’s going to be a long day,” said Thomas Houghton, the owner of La Ola, his voice heavy with fatigue as he assessed the damage. “There’s a lot of erosion, a lot of pavers washed out.” The remnants of the tempest had taken their toll, leaving ghostly outlines of once-familiar features in his restaurant.
Some businesses emerged into the daylight unscathed, a stroke of good fortune in the chaos. Mayor Allers noted, “Most of the people have said it hasn’t affected their equipment,” a glimmer of relief in his otherwise serious demeanor. Yet, the reality was stark: many could not leave their homes, reluctant to face the remnants of Helene.
“I will tell you that many, many rescues took place,” stated Lee County Sheriff Carmine Marceno. With about 100 calls for service flooding in—ranging from requests for assistance to reports of storm damage—emergency teams were stretched thin but managed to work diligently through the challenges. Boats and swamp buggies plowed through the terrain, helping those stranded by the storm’s fury.
“People were stranded, and thank God, no fatalities,” Marceno said, a sobering reflection on a day that could have felt much grimmer. Amid the chaos, LCSO’s buggy encountered challenges of its own, taking on water in the engine from the relentless surge—a reminder that even the rescuers faced hazards.
As the bridges to the island began reopening that Friday morning, townsfolk navigating the encroaching hills of sand faced not only physical obstacles but emotional ones as well. Traffic sprawled along Estero Boulevard as cleanup crews swept, vacuumed, and removed the remnants of the storm, focusing on the layered mass near Times Square, where Old San Carlos Boulevard meets Estero Boulevard.
“If you can stay in place and you don’t have to be out, stay in place,” urged Sheriff Marceno, a note of caution echoed by those who had witnessed the impacts of the storm first-hand.
Mayor Allers cautioned that the cleanup would be a lingering process, “The next couple of days will be muddy, dirty, and crowded. As the wind blows, it’ll help dry up the sand,” he predicted, a mix of hope and weariness in his voice.
In a poignant twist, the upheaval of Hurricane Helene coincided eerily with the two-year anniversary of Hurricane Ian. This year, the planned remembrance ceremony had to be canceled, overshadowed by the newly accumulated challenges. “It’s the day before that two-year anniversary and here we are again, not as bad, but we’ll get through it,” Allers said, a flicker of resilience shining through the fatigue of his words.
