SOME Bermudians subscribe to a number of peculiarly defeatist notions. Chief among them is the belief that a kind of chaos theory of disaster relief management comes into play every time the island emerges on the losing end of a major skirmish with nature.

Hurricanes, it seems, do not only spawn tornados in their wake; they also produce a type of corrosive cynicism that is, in its own insidious way, as damaging to the social fabric as any of the elemental hammer-blows that Fabian landed on Bermuda last Friday.

Self-doubt so violently blustering it could be gauged on the Beaufort Scale used to measure Hurricane Fabian's wind speeds has been in evidence ever since the massive storm began lurching away from the island.

The overwhelming majority of Bermudians, it must be said at the outset, are drawing on reserves of resourcefulness they were probably unaware they even possessed until Fabian careened into their lives. Deprivation, inconvenience and temporary hardship have combined to produce a cheerful spirit of indomitability.

The post-Fabian period has seen Bermudians demonstrating industriousness and neighborliness in equal measure, busily rebuilding their own lives while reaching out to help others more badly affected in spontaneous acts of goodwill.

But there are enough naysayers on the blighted scene to have ensured that hair-shirts are quite as rare a commodity this week as roofing slate. They are as adamant and relentless in their pessimism as Job.

There is no structure, no organisation, no overall control of recovery efforts, runs their bleak line of argument. Rather only an unlikely combination of luck and the law of averages will ever result in a bloodied Bermuda being able to stumble back to its feet again.

Common sense, the naysayers seem to believe, was sucked out to sea along with beachfront properties, one of the first casualties of the gale-force winds and violent storm surges that raked Bermuda's coastline last Friday.

Among these people the shadow of cynicism has entirely eclipsed the stoicism, enterprise and resilience that Bermudians are renowned for. Presumably suffering from a form of storm-induced shell-shock, the doom-mongers are doubtless convulsed by fear and anxiety, not motivated by malice.

Nevertheless at a time when most Bermudians are demonstrating pluck and self-reliance, the barrage of prophecies of doom are as unwelcome as they are unwarranted. The bald fact of the matter is that had some of the worst case hurricane scenarios been realised - if the Causeway had been completely washed away, if Belco's generating station had received a direct hit from one of the tornados thrown up by Fabian, if the reclaimed land the airport is built on had vanished back into the sea - the island's short-term prognosis would be infinitely more dire than is the case now.

But the cynics have mounted a premature and protracted death watch for Bermuda's future - and will doubtless be disappointed when the patient's vital signs rebound instead of settling into the flat lines of extinction. Their pronouncements, uttered in voices every bit as sephulcral as muffled drums sounding the death knell - and every bit as dispiriting.

It's more than likely that shortcomings, even major deficiencies, will be discovered in both Bermuda's essential services and the island-wide recovery operation currently under way.

Hurricane Fabian has tested Bermuda's organisational infrastructure to its very limits; any failures in the system will become apparent in extremely short order. Whatever problems that do appear will doubtless be rectified as they are identified.

However, the fact that the relief programme is, in the main, operating in such a professional and proficient manner is cause for celebration, not jeers. Bermuda is emerging from the fury of Hurricane Fabian at a far more rapid pace than might have been anticipated.

Within 48 hours of the storm's passage electricity had been restored to the majority of Bermuda's homes, all major roads had been cleared of debris and the airport and docks were open again, ensuring the island can receive both the specialist manpower and materiel necessary for its recovery efforts.

Much has been made of Government's decision to decline the offer of British military assistance, particularly by the professional misanthropes who dwell among us. It has even been interpreted in some quarters as the opening move in a gambit that will lead to Independence. That's unlikely to be the case.

Sir John Swan declined a similar offer of British help when Hurricane Emily cut a swathe of destruction across the island in 1987 - help, it should be remembered, that comes with a not insignificant price-tag attached. Sir John arrived at his decision on entirely pragmatic grounds, arguing that Bermuda faced problems which could not be solved simply by throwing additional manpower at them.

Precisely the same holds true today.

A few more able bodies clearing tree limbs and shattered roofing tiles from gardens is not going to make any appreciable difference to Bermuda's overall situation. Rather, the island desperately requires highly specialised assistance at the Bermuda Electric Light Company, the airport, Gibbs Hill Lighthouse and other essential operations.

Priorities are being established, overseas agencies and authorities are being solicited for the relevant expertise. By week's end a small army of technicians and engineers will have quietly invaded Bermuda and be engaged in high-intensity fire-fights with the most intractable remaining damage.

Most communities that undergo the scale of devastation Bermuda was subjected to last Friday can draw upon the resources and expertise of neighbouring cities or even countries. Bermuda, the second most isolated speck of land on the face of the planet, must import all of its help. And given the straitened circumstances involved - an airport that is still not fully functioning, chief among them - the island must exercise both prudence and realism in terms of what imported aid is in fact most urgently required.

Premier Alex Scott, who has maintained his poise and good humour through genuinely nightmarish circumstances, appears to have prioritised Bermuda's needs in a sensible manner. To criticise his efforts at this juncture would be churlish at best, entirely blind to the realities of the post-hurricane situation at worst.

The fact is that every Government and private agency involved in the relief effort has worked minor miracles since Friday afternoon. The Bermuda Regiment, the Police Service, the Works & Engineering Ministry, the Bermuda Electric Light Company, Cable & Wireless, the Telephone Company, the hospitals and all of the others caught on the front-line of Hurricane Fabian are to be commended and supported. Their combined efforts have ensured that the inconveniences the majority of Bermudians are now experiencing are minimal, that those most in need of assistance are in fact receiving it.

Those whose grim prognoses risk causing a domino effect of panic throughout the community should bear one final thing in mind: Everything that was lost on Friday can be replaced, everything except the four lives that were so violently taken on the Causeway. If that sobering reality does not put the current situation into perspective for the more agitated among us, then perhaps nothing will.