IIRC, the traditional crofter or 'fisherman's cottage', usually situated on a storm-blasted exposure, would use old nets and hefty 'guy ropes' anchored to large rocks / boulders to hold the roof down.
Nearest I've been to such conditions was camping on Anglesey, Wales (UK). The weather forecast promised a 'real roarer'. These days, it would be an infamous named storm. Then, the 'shipping forecast' just listed near-apocalyptic sea-states in most areas, worse along the core's track.
We had a big Marechal family-tent, with the optional steel frame rather than the default alloy. Still, we double-pegged the feet, double-guyed and triple-pegged the guys, turned back turves for a diversion drain. We filled our two GRP kayacks with enough water to anchor them. And, yes, tied them down, to be sure, to be sure. We collapsed the tent's kitchen annex, the door and window screens, tied them down. Then we cross-guyed the tent to the close-parked car's bumpers (fenders) and long roof-rack. We also parked our well-anchored baggage trailer as a secondary wind-break, for the direction would so swing as the storm's core passed.
We didn't get much sleep. At times, the wind noise was literally deafening. Despite our precautions, a torrent over-flowed our drain, but ran safely beneath the rippling ground-sheet. Happily, the storm blew through by breakfast. As usual, I headed out with our 3-gallon water container, en-route to the site taps. This day, I just stopped and stared.
The site had been FULL, late-comers wedged into gaps.
Now, there was but a forlorn quilt of pegged groundsheets, plus two tents. Us, and a tiny 'bivvy' tent. We were safely in-situ. The bivvy tent and its occupants were stuck in the big hedge at the down-wind end of the field. For that young couple, the Earth had truly moved...