New Englanders steadied by hurricane-seasoned California surf journalist as post-tropical cyclone Lee wreaks havoc on northeast!

Surfline code red.

I am currently sitting in the dining room of a classic New England bed and breakfast, the remains of a croque madam resting near an empty coffee mug on a fine china plate on an old farmhouse table, watching gusty winds lightly tickle the still-green leaves of maple trees outside the window.

Terror clawing at all those around.

Hurricane Lee, which has transitioned to Post-Tropical Cyclone Lee, is brushing past the coast, somewhere over the green mountains, leaving uncertainty and potential rain showers in its wake. The power is out in parts of Maine and Rhode Island was hammered with the exceedingly rare Surfline red designation.

I have only ever seen yellow (poor) and green (good).

Red, apparently, is “epic.”

Last evening, at party in an art gallery, a surfer showed me video clips of a lesser-known wave somewhere New England-ish. “Epic” seemed like an understatement. Perfect lines reeled both left and right, making barrel in either direction. I wish I could have been there in order to help those locals deal with fear and anxiety, as I am here to advise and assist after surviving Hurricane Hilary off the coast of California some three weeks ago, but alas, my advising and assistance was required elsewhere.

The sun is almost poking through clouds, now, sending shivers up spines though I swing into action, telling the guests its ok. I spotted enough local aged cheddar and maple syrup on a refurbished ice box near the front desk to last until at least 11 o’clock am. After that, I would be able to lead a recon mission to the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory where there may or may not be free samples.

The Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory is whimsical and silly with an expressive color palate plus three very cute holsteins grazing in a patch of green grass near the road, or that’s what I saw yesterday afternoon while driving by on the way to a bespoke coffee roaster housed in a red barn.

Through my hurricane survival experience, I have come to understand that treating people like babies is essential to hurricane survival.

“I wish there was a vaccine for climate-induced stress,” someone at a neighboring farmhouse table mutters.

“There basically is,” I respond stoically. “Ben and Jerry’s.”