Nightmute Tribal Administrator Clement George said that his riverside community looked completely different when daylight broke on the morning of Oct. 12.
"It was like we're in the ocean. Our village is right along the hillside, looked like a beach," George said. "I’ve lived here all my life. I've never seen anything like this.
Wind gusts as high as 100 miles per hour, among the strongest recorded from the remnants of Typhoon Halong, plowed water miles up into the tundra surrounding Nightmute.
When the storm hit, George said that all he could see out his window were waves and blowing water. In the distance, he saw local rescue efforts begin – lights moving back and forth along Nightmute’s long, raised boardwalks.
"There were men, young men, using ATVs to call them to the school," George said.
George said that he’s not sure how the men were able to ply four-wheelers along the boardwalks in hurricane force winds, helping at least 50 people reach the school.
"I don’t know … miracle," George said.
The storm-driven flooding lifted more than a dozen homes in Nightmute off their foundations. It knocked over fuel tanks, leaving the smell of stove oil in the air, and pushed water into the community’s landfill and sewage lagoon. At least 19 people have since been evacuated.
Much of the community sits at less than 10 feet above sea level. Some areas are as low as a couple feet above the waterline when Bering Sea tides raise the level of the Toksook River.
In the wake of the storm, George said that one thing stands out.
"There's erosion everywhere. Some of the riverside tundra on there is folded on some parts," George said.
The community has grappled with riverbank erosion for decades. George said that permafrost thaw made the situation worse for the most vulnerable homes on the west end of town as they sank faster into the ground. Now, many of those homes are a complete loss.
Downriver from Nightmute, the storm also brought severe erosion to the mouth of the river and surrounding bay, across from the community of Toksook Bay.
"It just totally changed our terrain features along the coast," said Toksook Bay Tribal Administrator Robert Pitka. "The lakes, the ponds where we usually subsist for blackfish, pikes, lush fish. It's all filled with salt water now. Think about, you know, the beaver, the mink, muskrats, mice, they're probably wiped out. It's just going to change. It's just, it's crazy."
Pitka said that numerous fish racks lining the bay were also wiped out by the storm. Boats pulled up onto dry land for protection were scattered around. But Toksook Bay itself, built on slightly higher ground, avoided serious infrastructure damage and maintained power during ex-typhoon Halong. Keeping the power on allowed its weather station to record a 100-mph wind gust, the highest ever measured on Nelson Island.
Umkumiut
Several miles west along the coast, the seasonal subsistence camp and village known as Umkumiut was no match for the winds.
"It's wiped out. The weaker houses, older houses are just gone; demolished or just gone. The stronger houses, newer houses, they floated. They could have flowed forever away into the ocean, but they hit the cliff edges and that's where they are," Pitka said.
In the once idyllic meadow carved out of the cliffside, dozens of seasonal homes and a Catholic church have been destroyed. Before these modern structures arrived and Toksook Bay was founded nearby, Umkumiut was a place of sod houses where the people of Nightmute traveled in the spring and summer months to harvest herring, halibut, salmon, seals, shellfish, greens, and other foods. Only months before ex-typhoon Halong hit, many residents were there doing much the same.
George said that Nightmute had relied on Umkumiut for as much as 75% of its subsistence needs. It had been that way longer than anyone can remember.
Pitka said that the site and surrounding area have been used for millennia. And usually it’s protected. To the southwest, Nunivak Island serves as a shield to break the destructive force of giant waves on the open ocean.
But during ex-typhoon Halong, the winds did something that Pitka can’t ever recall seeing. They shifted closer to due south, shooting the gap between Nunivak Island and Nelson Island. The destruction this brought to Umkumiut is something Pitka said isn’t mentioned in Yup’ik oral histories of the area.
"There's no stories like that. [In] the stories it used to be calm all the time," Pitka said.
Despite the devastating loss, Pitka said that the immediate concern for his community is assisting Nightmute with its recovery effort – figuring out what to do about Umkumiut can come later. For George, there is endless work to be done to secure the community before freeze-up, but he has already seen what a community can do in crisis.
