The province of Nova Scotia doesn’t generally bear the full brunt of hurricane weather. Sure, the spit of land which serves as Canada’s Wharf gets its share of winter storms and thunder boomers, but once-in-a-generation wailers which snap century-old trees like toothpicks and permanently change the shape of coastlines? Not so much.
Enter Hurricane Fiona, in all her fury. Bearing down on the region after cutting swaths through the tropics and skirting what we used to call the Boston States, this destructive storm peaked at a Category 4 Atlantic hurricane and proved one of the most intense tropical/post-tropical cyclones ever to hit Canada. Based on atmospheric pressure, Fiona was the strongest hurricane ever recorded in our country — and one of the wettest as well.
This author and his family went without electricity for almost 13 days, a span of 294 hours in which we filled five-gallon buckets with river water each day (no power to our artesian well pump meant no running water) and listened to the buzzing roar of a gasoline-powered generator each evening until dark. Some families were without for even longer stretches, not to mention the impact — literally, in some cases — of downed trees and the devastating storm surge.
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Tidying Hurricane Fiona’s aftermath in Nova Scotia Photo by Matthew Guy
Of course, since little of this occurred in the crushingly self-aggrandizing capital city of Halifax, Fiona’s destruction was largely glossed over and dismissed. You can bet your last donair that if Barrington Street or Spring Garden Road were filled with downed trees and snapped power poles, the province’s elite would have been squawking loudly and crying for help. As of this writing, 48 days after landfall, the cleanup continues in this author’s town and many other rural areas. Hats off to crews from the likes of N.S. Power and other electric companies, tree removal workers, first responders, and anyone else on the front lines.
When it came to property damage, we were more fortunate than the many who lost their dwellings or saw their property swept out to sea by a roiling ocean. Six trees on our land, all over 20 metres in height, decided they’d rather lie horizontally on terra firma instead of standing upright, falling in a direction that did not strike our two-story home but cleared out every single live electrical wire leading into the house. It’s funny, in retrospect; knowing Fiona would produce a northwesterly flow in our town meant this damage was expected and once it happened around 2:00am — with a blue flash and an ungodly loud series of bangs — your writer relaxed a bit and went to sleep. Teenagers in the home, it should be noted, were not stirred from their sleep.
Friends loaned us one of their surplus gasoline-powered generators, a sentence which can surely only be uttered in rural Canada. Shoutout to them and to King Canada for building a 4,200-watt machine which reliably burned through about 15 litres of regular per day, keeping our fridge and freezer running and preventing the spoilage of food. The wattage was supplemented by a pair of Jackery Explorer lithium-ion electric power stations capable of belting out 1,800W apiece, rechargeable by either the King generator or solar panels (of which there was no shortage after Fiona departed).
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Ford Maverick at work in the wake of Hurricane Fiona Photo by Matthew Guy
Or, as we discovered, the 400-watt household-style outlets of the Ford Maverick on test that week. These types of electrical connections have been appearing in pickup trucks for ages, but Blue Oval engineers have been bringing the goods and making theirs noticeably more useful than most. With one in the Maverick’s cabin and one weather-sealed in the bed, it was easy to either recharge devices or run small electric items. It is fair to say the truck provided much more juice for our family during its stay than Nova Scotia Power was able to.
Still, as we discovered, 400 watts isn’t enough to run some items. The handy 1,000W Instant Pot shown in these photos would quickly trip the truck’s built-in breaker; an electric kettle demands about 1,200W; and a household-sized fridge generally consumes roughly 200W while running (and often more than triple that to start its motor), but does so constantly instead of for a couple of minutes like the kettle.
This explains why Ford is on the right track in its development of the Pro Power Onboard systems, which offer up to 7,200W of electricity in the F-150 Hybrid and can be hove into ‘generator mode’ capable of keeping the truck running in a ventilated environment, continually providing electricity until its fuel tank and reserve battery are exhausted. The 400W circuits in this Maverick are but a sliver of that output, but were nevertheless handy and clearly employed some of the lessons Ford learned while developing the hefty units.
In the days which followed, the Maverick ran like a real truck, easily hauling away debris and serving as transport for the aforementioned five-gallon buckets of river water, a task first explored with all the grace of falling down the stairs in a set of leg irons. The Mav’s cargo tiedowns are well considered, adjustable for distance and large enough to accept jumbo-sized hooks of a ratchet strap. Memo to truck makers: providing ample anchoring points in a cargo bed is one of the most cost-effective ways to gain fans and ingratiate yourself to truck owners.
The Maverick’s payload is 1,500 pounds, if you’re wondering, comparing well with trucks a size (or two) larger. The cargo bed is nearly square, at 54.4 inches long and 53.3 inches wide, necessitating a few extra passes through felled brush with the cutter bar of our 42cc chainsaw. For comparison, the Ranger’s bed is a 61- by 61.4-inch space at its max, while an F-150 SuperCrew with the popular short bed is a 67- by 60.3-inch area at the floor.
There are a few further Maverick features which put it in the ‘real truck’ column, including the surprise appearance of an honest-to-Henry trailer-brake controller. This alone helps it avoid the scorn heaped upon dishwater rigs like the minivan-esque Honda Ridgeline.
Do I ever want to endure another storm like Fiona? Definitely not. Were we luckier in terms of damage and destruction than many others in the region? Absolutely. Did the little Maverick help by providing a skiff of electricity and a means with which to cart away debris? You bet it did. Nova Scotia might not always bear the brunt of hurricanes, but the Maverick has a suitable list of truck-like features to help out when it does.
Keyword: Fiona and a Ford: Cleaning up after a Maritime hurricane with the Ford Maverick