The Named-Storm Week: A Generator Playbook for Savannah

A standby generator that has been serviced inside the last year and exercises itself every week is, in all likelihood, ready. The storm week is for confirming it rather than trusting it. Run a real test: open the main breaker or use the controller's test function so the automatic transfer switch actually hands the house over and the unit carries a genuine load for twenty minutes, not the ten-minute unloaded self-exercise it does on its own. Listen for surging, watch the controller for warnings, and put your hand near the exhaust to confirm nothing is blocked. Then walk the pad. Clear leaves, pine straw, and mulch from the intake and exhaust louvers, move anything that could become a projectile — patio chairs, trash cans, the kids' bikes — out of the enclosure's reach, and make sure the ground slopes away. If the unit sits on an elevated mount because your street floods, look at the mount, not just the machine.

Fuel is the second check. On natural gas there is nothing to top off, but it is worth knowing that a widespread outage does not interrupt the gas main — the supply that matters during a hurricane is the one under the street, and it keeps flowing. On propane, the tank gauge is the whole conversation: a tank that reads under half in a storm week is a tank to fill now, because the delivery trucks stop when the wind starts and do not return until the roads are cleared. The fuel guide covers how long a tank actually lasts under load; the short version is that a generously sized tank carries the house for days when it starts full, and a tank that starts at a third does not.

A portable generator can keep a refrigerator cold and a few lamps lit, and every hurricane season it also kills people who set it up in the wrong place. The rules are not suggestions. It runs outdoors only — never in the garage, not even with the door open, and never on a covered porch or in a carport against the house. It sits at least twenty feet from the house with the exhaust pointed away from every door, window, and crawlspace vent, because carbon monoxide has no smell and the first symptom is often sleep. It gets a battery-powered CO alarm inside the house, on the sleeping floor, before the first pull of the cord. It never plugs into a wall outlet — back-feeding the house through an outlet pushes current out to the street and can electrocute the line crew restoring your power; the safe connection is a transfer switch or an interlock installed by an electrician, or extension cords rated for the load run straight to the appliances. And it never runs in the rain without a rated cover, and never gets refueled hot. Do those things and a portable is a useful, temporary tool. Skip one and it is the most dangerous object on the property.

Plan the portable's job honestly, too. It will not run central air, and it will not run the well pump, the septic pump, and the refrigerator at once. Pick the two or three loads that matter — cold food, one window unit or fans, phone charging — and write down which cord goes where before the lights go out.

Here is the answer nobody wants in a storm week, stated plainly: a standby generator cannot be installed between the naming of a storm and its landfall. The project needs a site visit, a permit and inspection, equipment, a fuel connection, and a transfer switch wired into the panel — the whole sequence, with Savannah pricing, is laid out on its own page, and in a normal season it runs weeks, not days. After a named storm the equipment goes on regional back-order and installer schedules across the coast are booked out for months. Anyone who offers to have you running by landfall is offering something that will not pass inspection, or will not exist. What you can do this week is decide. Which loads are non-negotiable, whether the house runs on gas or would need a tank, where a unit could sit — the sizing guide walks through the arithmetic — and then get a written quote on the calendar for the calm months, when the price is normal and the crew is available. The families who call in a quiet January are the ones who are not making this list in September.

Charge everything. Fill the bathtub if you are on a well. Set the refrigerator and freezer to their coldest settings and stop opening them. Photograph your electrical panel and your generator's controller screen so you have a reference if a fault code appears later. Know where the main breaker is and how to reach the transfer switch in the dark. If you are in an evacuation zone and the order comes, an automatic standby unit is designed to carry the house with nobody home — refrigerator, freezer, sump, security — which is most of the reason coastal owners buy one; leave it in auto and go. A portable does not get that job: it is never left running unattended, and it goes with you or gets stored dry.

When the wind drops, resist starting anything until you have looked. For a standby unit: clear debris from the enclosure and the louvers, make sure the exhaust is clear and the pad has not shifted, and check that flood water never reached the unit — a generator that took on water needs a technician before it takes on a load. If it ran through the storm, note the hours on the controller; a long outage brings the annual service forward, and an oil change after a multi-day run is cheap insurance for the next one. For a portable: refuel only when it is cool, keep the twenty-foot rule for as many days as the outage lasts, and remember that the danger does not end when the rain does — the days after landfall, when everyone is tired and the novelty is gone, are when most generator accidents happen.