As I watched the Masters coverage on Friday and marveled at my contemporary Tom Watson’s gutty play -– that young whippersnapper Fred Couples wasn’t bad either -– I lapsed into a rich fantasy world in which it is Sunday at Augusta, and Watson is matched in the final pairing with Tiger Woods.  The crowd, of course, is cheering loudly for Woods, but even louder for the 60-year old Watson.

        The two players come to the 18th tied, with both in the fairway.  Watson has a tricky approach shot but manages to sky his four-iron to 35 feet or so of the cup.  Woods has a more routine approach, yet he seems to linger over it longer than usual.  He makes an unusually tentative swing and pulls it into the front left bunker, then hits a mediocre bunker shot to 8 feet.  Those swings on the 18th hole of a major lack the typical force of the Tiger, as if they were played by the more laid-back Ernie Els.

        Watson’s lag putt winds up two feet below the hole and he putts out for par.  Now Woods, who has been putting well all day, lines up his tying putt.  Days later, people who study such things will comment that Woods took about 15% less time to study his putt than he has done for other critical putts in his career.  When he does make his stroke, he opens the clubface ever so slightly as the head of the putter comes through the ball.  He misses the cup by three inches right.

         Tom Watson is shocked, the crowd is shocked, but as it dawns on everyone that a sexagenarian has actually won the Masters, they go nuts as the winner circles the periphery, high-fiving everyone.  A photo in all the sports sections the next day shows a jubilant Watson in the foreground and, beyond him Tiger Woods, not hanging his head but looking straight at Watson, a wry and knowing smile on his face, a look that some will interpret later as the face of redemption.

JekyllIslandApproachtogreen

If history counts, the Jekyll Island Club and the entire coast of Georgia is not likely to be hit by a major hurricane anytime soon.

 

        The most oft-asked question by my customers contemplating a home on the eastern coast is not about the financial health of developers, or temperatures in summer and winter, or even if a golf community course is in good shape.  The most asked question is, “What about hurricanes?”

        As the owner of a second home ¾ of a mile from the Atlantic Ocean, I have voted my point of view.  I think the fear factor is overrated, an outgrowth largely of the devastation we all witnessed on television in the wake of Katrina. But it is clearly on the minds of many who would live a nine-iron from the beach if it weren’t for the perceived threat of Category 4 or 5 storms.

        Getting over hurricane anxiety this year will not be any easier, not with a respected hurricane forecast group

The Atlantic coast is looking at a predicted 15 storms this year; a typical year is fewer than 10.

indicating the Atlantic coast is in for a rough season.  According to an article today in the Hartford Courant, the Hurricane Forecast Team at Colorado State University predicts four major Atlantic hurricanes in 2010.  Major hurricanes are those with winds exceeding 111 mph.  In all, the Team forecasts 15 "named" Atlantic storms of note later this year.  A typical year yields an average 9.6 such storms and 2.3 major hurricanes.

        We have been down this path before, years in which forecasters predicted the worst and we wound up with something much less.  Of course, during the years of Hugo and Katrina, no one quite forecast the strength and devastating path of those devils.  But last year, for example, seemed more typical, when the Colorado State team predicted six hurricanes, and the final tally was just three.

        So how big a threat are hurricanes along the eastern seaboard?  And are any areas statistically safer than others?

        To try to answer the question, I found a map at the U.S. government’s “severe weather” site that charts the landfall locations for all hurricanes from 1950 to 2004.  It does not include Katrina and other storms since 2004.  If you were to use the map as guidance on where to buy a golf community home, you could easily make the following observations: 

        1) The entire Georgia coast is safe; it has not been struck by a hurricane in 54 years;

        2) Charleston, SC and the Outer Banks of NC have the greatest chance of Category 3 & 4 hurricanes, which pack winds between 111 mph and 155 mph; 

        3) The chances of avoiding a hurricane altogether are better on the east coast than along the Gulf of Mexico, where an uninterrupted line of landfalls extends from the panhandle of Florida to Houston, TX; and

        4) The safest locations on the eastern seaboard are along the coasts of Virginia and the Delmarva Peninsula, and for a stretch of Florida roughly between Daytona and St. Augustine.  Check out the map for yourself by clicking here.

        Inland locations in the Carolinas won’t ever have to suffer through storm surges, but that doesn’t mean they are immune to flooding and, in higher elevations, mudslides.  Not all hurricanes strike a glancing blow on the coast; many proceed inland, diminished but still capable of costly damage.  Check out these state-by-state maps that show the paths of hurricanes from 1851 to 2005.

        The issue of buying a home near the coast really comes down to potential economic damage, not personal safety.  Meteorology has become so sophisticated, the Colorado State team notwithstanding, and the Weather Channel is so ubiquitous that no one need fear a storm sneaking up on them.  You always have at least a few days to evacuate, and states with a coastal presence have become adept at organizing roadways for swift and substantially uneventful evacuation.  Some people worry, justifiably, about whether they will have a home to come home to in the wake of a major storm, and whether their insurance premiums will affect their financial security.  These are real concerns but, perhaps, not enough to tilt a decision away from a place where you really want to live.  As the data shows, there are ways to severely limit the risks.

        Data and history tell us that the chances of a devastating storm along certain stretches of the eastern seaboard are remote.  For those who love the sand and the surf, the minimal risk is worth the rewards.

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Map of hurricane landfalls from 1950 to 2004: http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/img/climate/severeweather/hur5004.jpg

Hurricane paths by state from 1851 to 2005: http://www.csc.noaa.gov/hez_tool/history.html