The mountainous spine of Hispaniola is now a waterlogged funnel. Tropical Storm Franklin, which made landfall on August 23, 2023, is wringing itself out over some of the steepest terrain in the Caribbean. The ground on this island does not absorb heavy rain well. It sheds it. And when the soil on a 45-degree slope turns to slurry, houses, roads, and lives slide down with it.
That geography is the real story here. Hispaniola is the second-largest island in the Caribbean by land area, but its real signature is vertical. The Cordillera Central range cuts through the Dominican Republic, while the Massif du Nord and the Chaîne de la Selle ridge Haiti. Dense forests cloak those slopes, but they are not enough to anchor the ground once a tropical storm parks overhead. Franklin is bringing exactly that—heavy rain, not just a passing squall. The report notes that the region’s history has shown these events can have devastating consequences. That is a careful way of saying that entire towns have been buried here before.
The storm is now a two-country crisis with two very different capacities to respond. The Dominican Republic covers roughly 48,445 square kilometers. It has a more developed infrastructure and a functioning emergency response system. That matters. When the rain starts, they can deploy heavy equipment, coordinate evacuations, and restore power faster. But even a good system buckles when the water comes faster than the drainage can handle. Power outages are already happening. Communication networks are down in places. Emergency services are on high alert, working to pull people out of low-lying areas.
Then there is Haiti. The numbers are stark. Haiti covers about 27,750 square kilometers. Its infrastructure is less developed. Its emergency response system is less robust. And it sits on the western, more deforested side of the island, where the hillsides are even more exposed. When Franklin’s bands hit those bare slopes, the runoff is immediate. There is no tree canopy to slow it down. No deep root systems to hold the dirt. The report makes plain that both countries are vulnerable, but the margin for error in Haiti is razor-thin. Offers of aid are already coming in from neighboring countries and global organizations. They will be needed.
The economic stakes are concrete, not abstract. This is not a tourist disruption story. It is a crop story. Hispaniola’s rich soil and favorable climate make it a serious producer of coffee, sugarcane, and tobacco. Those are not quick-turnaround cash crops. Coffee takes years to reach full production. Sugarcane requires precise harvest timing. Tobacco is labor-intensive and sensitive to moisture. Franklin’s heavy rain and wind are hitting fields at the wrong time. Flooded fields rot roots. Lodged stalks mean lost yield. The agricultural sector is already bracing for the economic impact. For farmers on both sides of the border, this storm could mean a lost season.
Residents are bracing for the worst. That is not alarmism. It is experience. The island has seen this before. The storm is moving across Hispaniola now. The winds are strong. The rain is intense in several areas. The damage is not hypothetical anymore. It is happening in real time, on steep slopes, in low-lying neighborhoods, and in fields that will not produce this year. The international community is watching. Offers of support are pouring in. But the storm does not wait for aid to arrive. It is already here.
