'The Hurricane's Usefulness Has Outlasted It'

Ambrose Bierce’s entry for hurricane in The Devil’s Dictionary (1906): 

“An atmospheric demonstration once very common but now generally abandoned for the tornado and cyclone. The hurricane is still in popular use in the West Indies and is preferred by certain old-fashioned sea-captains. It is also used in the construction of the upper decks of steamboats, but generally speaking, the hurricane's usefulness has outlasted it.”

 

As I write, Beryl is still a tropical storm in the Gulf of Mexico, collecting energy for today’s landfall at Matagorda Bay, some one-hundred miles southwest of Houston. Since May 16, when a derecho – like hurricane, a borrowing from Spanish – knocked out our power for four days (longer than when Hurricane Harvey hit in 2017), we’ve had a natural-gas-powered generator installed. It’s a white box behind the garage resembling an upended refrigerator. If the warranty holds, the device should kick in immediately when the power goes out, though Texas has taught us to be kneejerk pessimists.

 

I have no argument with Bierce when it comes to hurricanes having outlasted their usefulness. His reference to steamboats calls for an explanation. The hurricane-deck, as defined by the OED, is “a light upper deck or platform in some steamers.” I learned the word from Chapter 4, “The Boys’ Ambition,” of Mark Twain’s finest book, Life on the Mississippi (1883):

 

“And the boat is rather a handsome sight, too. She is long and sharp and trim and pretty; she has two tall, fancy-topped chimneys, with a gilded device of some kind swung between them; a fanciful pilot-house, a glass and 'gingerbread', perched on top of the ‘texas’ deck behind them; the paddle-boxes are gorgeous with a picture or with gilded rays above the boat's name; the boiler deck, the hurricane deck, and the texas deck are fenced and ornamented with clean white railings; there is a flag gallantly flying from the jack-staff; the furnace doors are open and the fires glaring bravely . . .”