The disaster that erased Savanna‑la‑Mar

On October 28 last year, Black River, the capital of St Elizabeth, was almost entirely destroyed by Hurricane Melissa. The scale of the devastation left much of Jamaica stunned. For some residents, the wreckage was so complete that it resembled the aftermath of a bombing rather than the passage of a Category-5 storm.

Yet Black River is not the first Jamaican town to have been erased by natural forces. History offers sobering precedents. In June 1692, Port Royal – then known as “the wickedest city on Earth” – slid into the sea after an earthquake, its aftershocks and tsunamis. In 1907, Kingston was levelled by a 6.2-magnitude earthquake. But the most destructive calamity of all may have struck Westmoreland on Tuesday, October 3, 1780, when a lethal combination of tsunami, hurricane and earthquakes laid waste to the parish.

The destruction was so extensive that Jamaica’s governor at the time, Colonel John Dalling, felt compelled to report directly to London. “Notice, besides the severity of the hurricane, the governor reported that there were earthquakes as well – and that the quakes totally demolished every building in the parish of Westmoreland and that remaining inhabitants were faced with famine: I am sorry to be under the disagreeable necessity of informing your Lordships of one of the most dreadful calamities that has happened to this colony within the memory of the oldest inhabitant,” he wrote.

In the late 18th century, there were no forecasting tools to warn of impending catastrophe. On the morning of October 3, the weather appeared unremarkable. Nothing unusual was observed. But by afternoon in Savanna-la-Mar, the parish capital, the sky darkened abruptly. Around three o’clock, the wind began to blow violently from the south east, accompanied by heavy rain. By four, it had strengthened, tearing up trees and stripping houses of their shingles.

Between five and six o’clock, the sea began to rise, swelling to what eyewitnesses described as a tremendous height. People watched in fear and fascination. Then, without warning, a towering wave surged inland, sweeping people and possessions away before dragging them back into the sea. It was a tsunami, though the word would have meant nothing to those who saw it. From then until about eight o’clock, the wind raged across the parish and beyond.

FRIGHTENING AFTERSHOCKS

The tsunami was followed by a relentless hurricane, which destroyed whatever remained standing. The storm briefly eased after eight o’clock but continued to batter the area until midnight, when it moved westward. Before departing, it delivered a final blow: an earthquake at 10 o’clock, followed by frightening aftershocks.

“With repeated shocks of an earthquake which has almost totally demolished every building in the parishes of Westmoreland, Hanover, part of St James, and some parts of St Elizabeth’s and killed members of the white inhabitants, as well as of the negroes … The wretched inhabitants are in a truly wretched situation, not a house standing to shelter them from the inclement weather, not clothes to cover them, everything being lost in the general wreck. And what is still more dreadful, famine staring them in the face,” Governor Dalling wrote.

The human toll was devastating. “No pen can describe the horrors of the scene which morning presented to the sight of the few who survived to lament the fate of their wretched neighbours; the earth strewed with the mangled bodies of the dead and dying, some with broken limbs, who, in that situation, had been tossed about during the storm, and afterwards left on the wet, naked earth to languish out the night in agonies with no hand to help, or even pity them … and it is thought not less than 400 whites and negroes must have perished in and about Savanna-la-Mar,” records Colonial Office file CO 137/79.

Another account, from a man in Savanna-la-Mar, echoed the horror. “The morning ushered in a scene too shocking for description, bodies of the dead and dying scattered about the watery plains where the town stood, presented themselves to the agonising view of the son of humanity whose charity lead him in quest of the remains of his unhappy fellow creatures!”

Neighbouring parishes, including St Elizabeth, St James and Hanover, also suffered severe damage and loss of life, though nothing on the scale endured by Westmoreland, the epicentre of the catastrophe.

When Hurricane Melissa struck on October 28, it made landfall in Westmoreland, though Savanna-la-Mar was not the epicentre. Even so, the damage was extensive. Private dwellings and places of worship were badly affected, but the heaviest losses were borne by public buildings: the courthouse, the police station and the markets.

Manning’s School, founded in 1738, was among the hardest hit. When The Gleaner visited recently, classes were being held under tents. Most poignant of all was the pile of boards and shingles that once formed the revered Thomas Manning Building.

For now, the national narrative centres on Black River. But history suggests that Savanna-la-Mar endured annihilation long before, 245 years earlier – a reminder that Jamaica’s towns have repeatedly risen from ruins shaped by forces far beyond human control.

editorial@gleanerjm.com