Hurricane Erin, the first named storm to reach hurricane strength in the 2025 Atlantic season, swept past North Carolina’s Outer Banks on August 21, leaving a trail of flooding, evacuations, and powerful surf warnings in its wake. While the heart of the storm remained offshore, its sheer size and intensity brought dramatic effects to the coastline, from impassable roads to life-threatening rip currents stretching from Florida to Nova Scotia.
As of 8 p.m. on August 21, Erin was about 420 miles east-northeast of Cape Hatteras, moving northeast at 20 mph, with maximum sustained winds near 100 mph and higher gusts, according to the National Hurricane Center. The storm’s outer bands battered the Outer Banks, with wind speeds around 50 mph measured in beach communities like Nags Head. A buoy near the storm’s center even recorded waves as tall as 45 feet, underscoring Erin’s power and reach, as reported by The New York Times.
Local officials and meteorologists had braced for the worst. A storm surge warning was in effect from Cape Lookout to Duck, with predictions of at least three feet of ocean water inundating normally dry ground. The highest water levels were expected to coincide with the evening’s high tide, around 7 p.m., leading to extensive flooding. Parts of N.C. Highway 12, a vital byway connecting the Outer Banks, were closed as sand and sea covered the road in several places. The N.C. Department of Transportation announced that the highway would remain closed south of the Basnight Bridge to Hatteras Village and on the north end of Ocracoke Island, as more overwash was expected during the night and Friday morning.
Despite the dramatic scenes—waves lapping at houses, wooden steps torn away, and sand dunes battered by surf—there was little structural damage reported through Thursday evening. “So far, we’re in good shape,” said Bobby Outten, Dare County manager, though he cautioned that high tide had just begun. The state’s emergency management agency nevertheless warned residents to stay off the shoreline, as “the ocean is still extremely dangerous.”
States of emergency were declared in Dare, Currituck, and Hyde counties, along with a statewide state of emergency, and evacuation orders were issued for Ocracoke and Hatteras islands. More than 2,000 people evacuated via ferries, and visitors were required to leave ahead of residents. Yet, not everyone heeded the warnings. In Ocracoke, some locals saw the evacuation order as a suggestion rather than a mandate. “You can’t let your guard down, either,” said Vince O’Neal, a commercial fisherman. Others, like Egypt Assad, remained unfazed, continuing to fish even as neighbors left.
For many, the storm’s impact was felt in more subtle ways. The wild horses of the Outer Banks were not evacuated, and the Karen Beasley Sea Turtle Rescue and Rehabilitation Center reported that high tides threatened 45-50 sea turtle nests monitored by volunteers. While sea turtle eggs can survive brief overwash, prolonged submersion is often fatal. This year, there were 90 nests across North Topsail Beach, Surf City, and Topsail Beach, highlighting the delicate balance between wildlife and the relentless forces of nature.
Erin’s influence extended far beyond the Outer Banks. Officials from Florida to Maine closed beaches or issued stern warnings, urging people to stay out of the water due to the risk of deadly rip currents. At Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, about 70 people had to be rescued from rip currents earlier in the week. “It’s like a perfect storm,” said Sam Proffitt, the town’s ocean rescue director. “The weather is nice. It doesn’t look super choppy. People just see waves, but it generates a lot of rips.”
The National Weather Service highlighted that rip currents are the second-most common cause of hurricane-related deaths, after inland flooding. Even beaches far from the storm’s center felt Erin’s effects. In Seaside Heights, New Jersey, swimming was prohibited, and lifeguards patrolled to keep people out of the surf. “For swimming, it’s absolutely tremendously dangerous, between the storm and the northeast wind,” said Hugh Boyd, the town’s chief lifeguard. Tragically, several drownings occurred along the East Coast in the days leading up to and during Erin’s approach, often after lifeguards had left for the day.
Erin’s size was remarkable—at 530 miles across, nearly as wide as Montana, it ranked in the 90th percentile of the largest hurricanes ever recorded in the western Atlantic. This vastness meant that even as the storm veered away from land, its waves and winds continued to lash the coast. The hurricane’s rapid intensification, with wind speeds increasing by nearly 85 mph in just 24 hours, was fueled by abnormally warm ocean waters—a phenomenon scientists link directly to human-driven climate change. “These rapid intensification events are linked pretty directly to that human fingerprint,” said Jim Kossin, a former hurricane specialist at NOAA.
Experts explained that hurricanes act like giant ocean mixers, churning warm surface water with colder layers below. This process can leave a streak of cold water in the storm’s wake, temporarily reducing the risk of another hurricane forming immediately in the same spot. However, as Sally Warner, a climate scientist at Brandeis University, noted, the heat mixed into the ocean’s depths can have long-term impacts on marine life and global climate systems. “Over 90 percent of the excess heat that humans have put into the atmosphere via burning fossil fuels has ended up in the ocean,” she said.
As Erin continued its journey northeast, it was expected to weaken and become post-tropical by August 23, passing south of Atlantic Canada. Britain, too, was bracing for what remained of the storm, though forecasters doubted it would strike directly or retain hurricane strength in the cooler North Atlantic waters. Still, Erin’s injection of warmer air into the atmosphere was forecast to energize the North Atlantic jet stream, potentially ushering in an early autumn for parts of Europe.
For coastal communities from the Carolinas to New England, the 2025 hurricane season’s first major storm served as a stark reminder of nature’s power and unpredictability. While the Outer Banks escaped catastrophic damage, the lasting effects—eroded beaches, battered infrastructure, and anxiety over what the rest of the season might bring—were felt by all. As one local put it, “You never know. But you can’t let your guard down.”
