THE AFTERMATH OF HURRICANE HUGO : No One Knows Fate of Those Who Stayed on Barrier Islands

Less than half a mile of Intracoastal Waterway lies between the South Carolina mainland and its beachfront neighbors here, Sullivans Island and the Isle of Palms.

But, in the aftermath of Hurricane Hugo on Friday, that gulf had come to seem enormous.

Across the water lay the hint of disaster: Nowhere had the mighty storm struck with such devastating force. Up to 20 citizens who had defied orders and waited out the storm on the oceanfront could be in grave peril. No one knew their fate.

How were things on the Isle of Palms? reporters wanted to know. “Flat,” said county spokesman Bill McCauley.

That was as authoritative a reading as officials could give about the newly remote neighbors. Collapses of the only two bridges to the islands halted vehicular traffic. The sheer scope of destruction on them meant that officials had to clear roads before searching for survivors.

Little Sympathy Shown

And for those tempted to volunteer their emergency services, there was a long-barrelled answer from shotgun-wielding policemen patrolling the ports of the stricken islands: Get out. With dangerous snakes and power lines on the islands, the rescue would proceed on its own.

The hundreds of young South Carolina residents who congregated late Friday afternoon at a police roadblock in Mt. Pleasant left little doubt of their concern for their neighbors and their determination to help restore their near-tropical paradise.

“That’s my beach,” one young woman said. “I couldn’t live without it.”

But a significant contingent of others made clear that they felt precious little sympathy for the islanders--particularly for the wealthy colony newly encamped in the 1,300-unit Wild Dunes resort, an exclusive enclave on the east shore of Isle of Palms.

Compounding the sins of wealth and arrogance was the apparent decision of a small group of Dunes residents to wait out the storm in their glassed-in beachfront condominiums.

“I couldn’t think of a better group for this to happen to,” said one law enforcement official, who spent hours before the hurricane’s arrival trying to round up last-minute evacuees.

Longtime area residents said the conflicting attitudes only underlined the importance with which Charlestonians regard the Isle of Palms (pop. 8,000) and Sullivans Island (pop. 3,000). Those who most resent the recent influx of the Wild Dunes affluent do so because they regard the beach as a community right.

Nothing But Bad News

And nearly every report Friday portended nothing but bad news for the barrier islands.

The storm surge carried by the eye of the hurricane across the low-lying islands brought flood waters so forceful that they pushed some houses as much as 50 yards, said T. A. Humber, battalion chief for the Isle of Palms Fire Department.

In the same dramatic display of power, it ripped as many as 300 yachts loose from their moorings and deposited them on dry land up to 100 feet from the water’s edge.

“It was the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” said John Gantt, one of the few Charleston residents who managed to land on the island before being driven away by policemen.

Structural Damage

Disaster officials estimated that one in two of the houses on the Isle of Palms suffered severe structural damage. About one in three suffered similar damage on Sullivans Island, they said.

As darkness fell, there were still no reports of casualties on either of the islands. But officials were so overwhelmed by the destruction they had seen that they believed casualties remained likely.

“It was like Beirut,” one disaster relief official said.