In Hackberry, Louisiana, about 15 miles (24 kilometers) from the coast, workers moved a large shrimp boat out of the highway with a bulldozer. But the team had to stop because of strong currents in the floodwaters and difficulty in seeing the roadway.
"You can't see the sides of the road, and if you left the road, you'd just be swept away," National Guard spokesperson Sgt. Rebekah Malone said. About 20 people have been evacuated by boat in Hackberry.
Residents of the tiny community of Seabrook, Texas, near NASA's Johnson Space Center, were met by a roadblock as they tried to return home, and police officers standing in the rain turned them away. At times the line was 6 to 12 cars deep.
"It's going to be a while," an officer shouted to one man as he made a U-turn. "Just listen to the news."
"Seabrook is a disaster area: no sewer, no infrastructure. It really isn't safe," said officer Charlie Skinner. "It's making residents pretty upset. I understand, but There's an order signed by the mayor. We can't let anybody in."
Overnight, a team of paramedics, rescue dogs, and structural engineers fanned out under a nearly full moon on a finger of land in Galveston Bay. To the northeast, Coast Guard crews also worked into early Sunday morning, pulling a half dozen people out of Bridge City before rescue missions were suspended for the night.
Five-year-old Jack King escaped serious injury when a rush of storm-surge water washed out the first floor of his family's Galveston home just two blocks from the bay.
"I falled in the attic," the boy told paramedic Stanley Hempstead of his ten-foot (three-meter) tumble through the attic and onto the garage floor.
Jack and his family rode out the storm with blankets and other supplies. As the Texas Task Force 1 Search and Rescue crew arrived, Jack gazed at a TV aglow with The Simpsons, a Band-Aid covering a gash on his head.
"We just didn't think it was going to come up like this," said the boy's father, Lee King. "I'm from New Orleans, I know better. I just didn't think it was going to happen."
On one side of the Galveston peninsula, two barges had broken loose and smashed into homes. Everything from red vinyl barstools to clay roof tiles litters the landscape.
The second floors of some homes sit where the first floors were before Ike's surge washed them out, and only frames remain below the roofs of others, opening a clear view from front yard to back.
Eight deaths have been blamed on the storm—five in Texas, two in Louisiana and one in Arkansas. Authorities said Sunday three people have been found dead in Galveston, including one person found in a submerged vehicle near the airport. Another person died in Arkansas when a tree fell on his mobile home as the remnants swept through.
Texas Governor Rick Perry's office said 940 people had been saved by nightfall Saturday but that thousands had made distress calls the night before. Another 600 have been rescued from flooding in Louisiana.
In Orange, Texas, Mayor Brown Claybar estimated about a third of the city of 19,000 people was flooded, from 6 inches (15 centimeters) of water to 6 feet (183 centimeters). He said about 375 people who stayed behind during the storm had begun to emerge, some needing food, water, and medical care.
"These people got out with the wet shirts on their back," Claybar said. He said he did not know how many were still stranded. He didn't know exactly how long it would take to pump water out of the city.
Hurricane Ike was the first major storm to directly hit a major U.S. metro area since Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005.
Ike weakened to a tropical depression early Sunday morning but was still packing winds up to 35 miles (56 kilometers) as it dumped rain over Arkansas and traveled across Missouri. Tornado-warning sirens sounded Saturday in parts of Arkansas, and the storm downed trees and knocked out power to thousands there.
More than three million people were without power in Texas at the height of the storm, and it could be weeks before electric service is fully restored. Utilities had made some progress by late Saturday, and lights had returned to parts of Houston.
In Louisiana, battered by both Ike and Labor Day's Hurricane Gustav, 180,000 homes and businesses were in the dark.
Those residents who did leave were glad they had heeded orders, despite the inconvenience. Retired nurse Ida Mayfield said that, because Gustav hit Louisiana and not Beaumont two weeks ago, many people had decided not to evacuate ahead of Ike. She was warm and dry at a church-turned-shelter in Tyler, along with thousands of her neighbors.
"Two o'clock this morning made a believer out of all of them," said the 52-year-old Mayfield, adding that she spoke to a friend Saturday who was on a roof waiting for help after calling 911. "They're scared now."
Associated Press Writers Pauline Arrillaga in Houston, Jay Root and Kelley Shannon in Austin, Doug Simpson in Baton Rouge, April Castro, Mark Williams and Andre Coe in College Station, Allen G. Breed in Surfside Beach, Juan Lozano in Orange, Elizabeth White in San Antonio and Michael Kunzelman contributed to this report.