“A most dreadful tempest (and) hideous began to blow … at length (it) did beat all light from heaven, which like an hell of darkness turned black upon us … For four and twenty hours the storm in a restless tumult had blown so exceedingly as we could not apprehend in our imaginations any possibility of greater violence. Yet did we still find it not only more terrible but more constant, fury added to fury ….The waters like whole rivers did flood in the air … Winds and seas were as mad as fury and rage could make them.” – William Strachey, Sea Venture passenger, 1610

And so the voice of the chainsaw is heard in the land, the familiar background noise of any post-hurricane recovery period.

Fortunately Bermuda was spared the full wrath of Gonzalo which came ashore on Friday as a potentially catastrophic Category 3 hurricane, the first direct hit by a major storm the Island has had to contend with since 2003. But there was no loss of life. Property damage was limited. And the previous week’s blitzkrieg visit by Tropical Storm Fay had already downed most of the new growth produced by this summer’s record rainfall as well as deadwood; Bermuda’s already stricken utility lines therefore avoided any extensive new damage.

Even as dawn broke on Saturday, residents were coming to the assistance of friends, neighbours and, in some instances, complete strangers whose homes had been particularly hard hit. The compassionate “Bermudian spirit” so frequently remarked on by churchmen, politicians and others in recent days has been in evidence from the outset.

And the official, coordinated response to the storm, which got underway at first light on Saturday, has been nothing short of exceptional. Works & Engineering and Parks personnel, who had been working gruelling shifts since Fay’s annihilating winds pummelled the Island, redoubled their already outstanding efforts.

Generally the unsung heroes of any clean-up and recovery effort, these Government workers have demonstrated indefatigable perseverance and boundless patience in the face of back-to-back calamities. All of Bermuda stands in admiration of these ordinary men and women who have been tested twice in one week by the most extraordinary circumstance imaginable. The fact most of the Island was open for business as usual on Monday morning speaks to the magnitude of their efforts over the preceding 48 hours.

For the third time in three decades, the Bermuda Regiment has demonstrated what a genuinely invaluable role it plays in the Island’s disaster recovery scenarios.

As was the case after Emily in 1987 and Fabian 11 years ago, Regiment personnel have responded to Gonzalo with their characteristic fortitude, resolve and resourcefulness. These citizen-soldiers have made the welfare of Bermuda residents their only priority in the aftermath of the storm; damage to their own homes and properties has had to be a decidedly secondary consideration. Those who have questioned the worth of the local militia or the need to maintain the Regiment now compulsory conscription has been abolished should have been hurriedly disabused of their dismissive notions in recent days. When Premier Michael Dunkley visited Warwick Camp on Saturday evening to thank Regiment soldiers participating in the post-storm operation, he was speaking on behalf of all of us when he said: “The Bermuda Regiment is owed a debt of gratitude that cannot be paid, except by the smiles on people’s faces. I am so proud as a Bermudian because I get the opportunity to work with people like you, in good times and bad times.”

Belco, which began Saturday morning with almost 90 per cent of the Island in darkness, had restored power to all but a relatively small number of homes and businesses by Tuesday. The utility’s disaster preparedeness planning appears to have been close to flawless, the restoration procedures have proceeded at a pace which has exceeded all reasonable expectations.

Members of the Bermuda Police Service, the Fire & Rescue Service and hospitals personnel were all on duty throughout the storm, called out at its frenzied height to deal with a number of genuine emergencies (as well as some self-inflicted acts of stupidity – indoor barbecues are not advisable at hurricane parties). Their courage, selflessness and stamina are to be saluted.

Bermuda property and household insurers were open on Saturday morning to begin making damage assessments and accepting claims. Government carried out such practical measures as ensuring tarpaulins were easily available and the dump hours extended to facilitate the ready disposal of tons of storm-related debris and waste.

The communications strategy of the Emergency Measures Organisation kept Bermudians who had access to either radio or the internet and the local and international media abreast of Gonzalo’s progress and related developments on an almost minute-by-minute basis. After the storm, every major development – from the scheduling of restored bus and ferry services to the timing of school reopenings – has been communicated to the public in a quick, efficient manner.

Invariably some mistakes were made and some lessons have been learned. But overall the response of the Bermuda Government and various agencies and institutions was carried out with textbook precision and admirable efficiency.

Bermudians are children of the hurricane. Our entire history has been punctuated by these cyclonic storms and, in many ways, shaped by them.

If our founding father was Sir George Somers, then our mother was the epic 1609 storm which wrecked the flagship of the Virginia-bound supply fleet he was leading on Bermuda’s reefs.

The Sea Venture wreck not only led to Bermuda’s permanent settlement, it was immortalised in William Shakespeare’s Tempest — the 1610/11 play which, coincidentally, popularised the name Gonzalo (from an old German word meaning “battle genius” or “war sprite”).

Happily Gonzalo proved to be somewhat less bellicose than his name might have suggested. And in a very few days the shrill voice of the chainsaw will fall silent — hopefully not to be heard in the land again for another decade or more.