In Havana, which only caught the edge of the storm, nearly 200 houses
collapsed and more than 1,200 trees came down.
By the BBC's Daniel Schweimler in Havana.
BBC News Online Monday, 12 November, 2001.
As Hurricane Michelle approached, Cuban authorities put into force their
civil defence plan.
Over 700,000 people were moved from what were perceived to be vulnerable
areas - mostly coastal towns and villages, low-lying rural farmland and
crumbling buildings in the heart of colonial Old Havana. They were housed in
safe government-run shelters with food and medical supplies.
Over 600,000 farm animals were also moved. Tourists were flown out of remote
resorts in the path of the approaching storm. State-run radio and television ran
constant bulletins advising people to boil water, bring their pets in and make
their homes more secure.
Neighbourhood committees cut down loose tree branches and checked on those
who might be vulnerable - such as the elderly and the infirm.
A constant stream of experts, meteorologists, civil defence planners and
medics were interviewed to advise and reassure.
As Michelle got closer, she got fiercer. The shops and supermarkets were
packed as people bought extra food. There were no candles or torches to be had
anywhere.
Change of direction
And Michelle kept us guessing. Which route would she take? At first she
appeared to heading for the west of the island. Then as she bore down on the
south-western Island of Youth, she moved slightly to the east.
Some breathed a little easier, others braced for the worst. More than a day
before she was due to strike, the skies over Havana darkened ominously and the
winds got stronger. There were less and less people on the streets. Residents
brought flower pots and furniture in from their front porches and patios.
President Fidel Castro, in one of his long political speeches given as
Michelle approached, said the Cuban people were ready. It was only a small
hurricane, he said, compared to the political storms currently sweeping the
world.
Violent storm
As darkness fell, the trees outside our house began shaking more violently.
We again checked that our doors and windows were tightly shut. First the lights
went out, then we lost our gas supply. Loose cables flapped against an outside
wall.
We had a supply of matches and candles, and plenty of batteries for our
transistor radio. "Will our roof stay on?" asked my four-year-old son.
"Of course it will," I replied, trying to reassure him with a
confidence I didn't really feel.
The wind grew stronger. The lid of our water tank flew off the roof and
landed with a crash on the patio, shattering into many pieces. We watched the
clouds hurtling across the sky then leapt with a start as a huge branch from the
mango tree in our back garden snapped and hit the wall between ours and the
neighbours' garden with a thud.
We slept nervously but the following morning woke to bright sunshine and a
gentle breeze. Hurricane Michelle had passed over Cuba and was now at sea,
heading towards the Bahamas.
People were emerging from their houses to assess the damage. The streets
were littered with branches. Some roads were blocked by whole trees while
telephone and electricity cables dangled in the air.
Aftermath
The damage across the whole country was severe, but remarkably only five
people were reported killed. That figure may rise as isolated areas are reached
- but not by much.
President Castro was also assessing the damage - here, there and everywhere.
He inspected the devastated citrus crop in Jaguey Grande, hugged an old
woman who'd lost the roof of her house in Matanzas and even had time to visit
foreign tourists sheltering from the storm in the resort of Varadero.
Everywhere he went people chanted his name. Solidarity, discipline and
information were the three catchwords for the civil defence campaign and they
were adhered to solidly to limit the loss of life.
Economic damage
But the damage to Cuba's economy will be profound. Cuba was already
suffering a drop in tourism after the 11 September attacks on the United States.
The world prices of its two main exports, sugar and nickel, have fallen.
Then Russia said it was closing its surveillance station in Cuba and ending the
$200 million a year it pays in rent.
Just to make things worse, along came Hurricane Michelle. In Havana, which
really only caught the edge of the storm, nearly 200 houses collapsed, more than
1,200 trees and hundreds of electricity and telephone poles came down. Over 35
schools were badly damaged.
The Chinese leader, Li Peng, who was visiting Cuba as the hurricane struck,
has promised $600,000 in aid. Venezuela, Cuba's best friend in the region, has
already sent humanitarian supplies.
Power and water supplies are slowly but very surely being re-established,
public transport services are being resumed and the hundreds of thousands of
evacuees are returning to their homes.
A big cheer went up as the electricity returned to my neighbourhood, just as
I'd finished writing this by candlelight.
Normality was resumed after more than 60 hours of groping around in the dark
and eating nothing but cheese sandwiches.
Hurricane Michelle entered Cuba through the Bay of Pigs, where US-backed
Cuban exiles tried to overthrow Fidel Castro 40 years ago. He, of course, made
the link between the two adversaries, saying the hurricane reminded him of the
1961 invasion.
Cuba, it seems, has defied the odds on both occasions. | 
