Partly cloudy skies. Low 59F. Winds WNW at 5 to 10 mph..

Partly cloudy skies. Low 59F. Winds WNW at 5 to 10 mph.

The Windjammer on Isle of Palms was packed after Hurricane Ian passed over the Lowcountry. The beachfront bar was offering up live music, happy hour prices and half-price burgers for the night. The Windjammer/Provided

Patrons gathered at The Windjammer and a limited amount of other bars that were open around town after the hurricane. The Windjammer/Provided

Kwei Fei had a two-hour wait as of 7 p.m., with a line out the door. The James Island restaurant was open from 5-9 p.m. after Hurricane Ian. Kalyn Oyer/Staff

Receive weekly emails about hurricanes and breaking news alerts as storms approach.

The Windjammer on Isle of Palms was packed after Hurricane Ian passed over the Lowcountry. The beachfront bar was offering up live music, happy hour prices and half-price burgers for the night. The Windjammer/Provided

JAMES ISLAND — A long line of patrons wound into the Charleston Pour House parking lot, a sight usually reserved for the evening of a popular concert. 

No bands were playing at the music venue on the night of Sept. 30, and yet dolled-up dozens, who had slipped out of raincoats and into weekend wear, sipped Hurricanes and Dark & Stormies on the sidewalk under the light of a neon marquee that read, "Closed Thursday and Friday."

That didn't apply to the Pour House's neighboring restaurant, Kwei Fei, whose owners decided to throw a party after Hurricane Ian swept through the Lowcountry, turning streets into rivers and shutting off the lights for tens of thousands. 

On Maybank Highway, the most visible impact were tree leaves and small branches blanketing the asphalt and turning it into a verdant runway.

Moss from ancient oaks that had seen much worse in their lifetimes splayed out on top of bushes like toupees. Puddles rose from the gravel Pour House parking lot, none deep enough to swallow a whole rainboot. A light blue hue beckoned behind wispy gray clouds that swam through the sky, retreating. 

Kwei Fei was one of few places to open after the storm, beckoning the stir-crazed with a promise of hot food and conversation. At 7 p.m., there was a two-hour wait for a table at the Sichuan restaurant. 

The decision to open despite the weather was made earlier in the day, according to co-owner Tina Heath-Schuttenberg. Her husband, chef David Schuttenberg, had begun prepping at 9 a.m. He rode out the storm in the restaurant, chopping green onions while the power flickered and an oak tree crashed down out back. 

The "Rock You Like a Hurricane" party was advertised on Instagram with $5 beer and $6 wine deals, walk-in only, no reservations.

Patrons gathered at The Windjammer and a limited amount of other bars that were open around town after the hurricane. The Windjammer/Provided

There were a handful of others like it happening across town: Happy hour prices and half-off burgers at The Windjammer; a mini-menu featuring pimiento cheese, pork fried egg rolls and wings at Edmund's Oast; live music on tap at Share House and Uptown Social; and, to really play into the hurricane theme, people named Ian had to pay double for the night at Odyssey Bottle Shop. 

When the doors opened at Kwei Fei at 5 p.m., there were only four employees staffed for the job of a regular 12.

Bartender James Aneel stirred together Boulevardiers and fortune cookie-infused Old Fashioneds with lightning quick precision. Nick Newman sauced up bowls of lamb dumplings and spiced up plates of dry fried green beans as a flood of orders rushed in. 

Frothy Beard co-owner and brewer Joey Siconolfi was just getting up from the bar with a brown paper to-go bag after leaving a generous tip. He had been out earlier to assess the damage at his West Ashley brewery; nothing bad, other than the power was still out. 

"There weren't many places open to get some food and a beer, so I came here," said Siconolfi. "I wanted to support them." 

He was clearly not alone in that line of thinking. The restaurant was full and bustling as power-pop ballads blasted over the speakers, inspiring Schuttenberg to flip the wok faster above a blazing flame. 

"Wide Awake" by Parquet Courts came on the loudspeakers as an order of Dan Dan Mian was flung onto the bar; "Movin' and groovin' so I don't ever lose the pace."

"Happy hurricane, everybody," said Newman as he cheersed shots of Baijui with friends who had made it out.  

At least four tables were full of former employees, said Tina. One came up and asked if any help was needed; he was happy to serve a few plates or dole out plastic silverware and paper napkins. A lot of regulars had made it out, as well. It was a reunion. 

Kwei Fei had a two-hour wait as of 7 p.m., with a line out the door. The James Island restaurant was open from 5-9 p.m. after Hurricane Ian. Kalyn Oyer/Staff

John Paris sipped a Lefty Loosey pale ale alone at the bar. He had just been out to Chico Feo on Folly Beach and walked along the shore. The waves were still white-tipped and flailing, but the dunes remained intact, he offered. 

The musician had just moved to West Ashley from Nashville, Tenn., three months ago. This was his first hurricane down South, but not his first rustle with Mother Nature. When he lived up in Connecticut, a tree fell directly next to his house during Hurricane Irene. 

This time, his apartment escaped unscathed. 

Two bridges over and on lower ground, the Recovery Room Tavern didn't have any damage either, minus a temporary loss of electricity. If anything, it felt like a normal, busy Friday night.

The Atlanta Braves game played on the outdoor television, a brazen hopeful tried his hand at the stuffed animal claw machine, a game of pool was in full-swing, the dance floor was swaying. And there was a line out the door and down the sidewalk to get in. 

"When we got here, there were 180 people, and we had no door person," said owner Chris DiMattia. 

Alex Gilbert was at least 15 people back in line, but that didn't stop him from waiting to get into his favorite neighborhood bar. He lived a few blocks away and had just woken up from a nap. 

"It kind of was just not (anything)," Gilbert, who works at Hotel Bennett, said of the storm. "It got windy, I went and got a handle of vodka and then I slept through most of it. I woke up and it wasn't even raining." 

By the light of the Guinness window sign, a lone Corona sat at a lopsided angle. There were no more 70 mile-per-hour wind gusts to blow it off; it eventually toppled due to a precarious backpack swing. 

From the vantage point of the James Island connector on the way home, rows of yachts on the harbor seemed tranquil in the moonlight, bobbing smoothly along with the now-gentle tide. The only sign that anything unusual had happened earlier in the afternoon was one apocalyptic streetlight blinking in and out of consciousness. 

Reach Kalyn Oyer at 843-371-4469. Follow her on Twitter @sound_wavves.

Kalyn Oyer is a Charleston native who covers arts & entertainment and food & bev for The Post and Courier. She's a music festival & concert photographer and used to write about music for the Charleston City Paper, among other publications.

The Post and Courier 148 Williman Street Charleston, SC 29403

News tips/online questions: newstips@postandcourier.com

Delivery/subscription questions: subserve@postandcourier.com

, Post and Courier, an Evening Post Publishing Newspaper Group. All rights reserved.