Tsunami Warning

Last September, Don and I visited Hawaii when an earthquake occurred on American Samoa. The whole experience was quite interesting. The red light blinked on the telephone of our hotel-like condominium. Don picked up the message, which announced that the national tsunami center had issued a tsunami warning (not an alert like yesterday) because of the earthquake near American Samoa. The message informed us that we should be prepared to move to higher ground at a moment’s notice. My first question was, “What substitutes higher ground?” I could picture a wall of water moving on shore in the complex where we have our condominium, and wiping everything away just as Hurricane Iniki had done in 1992. Back then, it literally turned Point Poipu into a rebar skeleton.

I think this crazy idea about a wall of water first came from some friends of ours who sailed on the QEII across the Atlantic Ocean. A ninety-foot storm wave slammed into the side of the ship, and almost tipped it on its side. They said that it hit the deck with such force that it lowered the top deck by nearly two feet! Then, there is the scene described in James Michener’s “Hawaii,” where a tsunami comes ashore and carries a village of people out to sea. I’ve had nightmares about that chapter. Yesterday, the tsunami center informed everyone that it was not a wall of water, but a gradual rise of water that would come ashore similar to a river.

Don and I planned to drive around the day of the tsunami warning, which seemed like a good idea to get us away from the shore. There was no evacuation or anything like that. Like yesterday, though, they had a strong sense of when the supposed tsunami would hit. We kept our ears tuned to the radio the entire time we were out, and soon found ourselves right on the beach of one of our favorite little spots having lunch at “Duke’s.” We gazed at each other and at our proximity to the water, and didn’t seem to give it a second thought, and neither did anyone else. I guess we thought we’d eat before it got there!

After lunch, I shopped in one of my favorite stores, the real reason we had come to that side of the island, when we discovered that the tsunami center had canceled the tsunami warning. We traveled back to our home complex, jumped into our swimsuits, and made our way down to the beach. We both love to swim in the ocean. I especially love Point Poipu because of all the wave action. “Never turn you back on the ocean” is good advice when it comes to Point Poipu. The undertow can be quite fierce until one swims out to the deeper water. Much to our chagrin, the complex had closed the beach and blocked it off due to a “tsunami surge.” We settled into lounge chairs on the grass right next to the beach, and gazed at the ocean longingly. No lifeguard was on duty. The complex visitors appeared to respect the warnings of the complex while the locals enjoyed the time of their lives riding out the tsunami surge at Brennecke Beach. That didn’t seem fair!  

I shook my head with abandonment, stood up, crossed the caution line, and headed for the beach with Don on my heels. He hates it when he can no longer see my head in the water, so I left my cowboy hat on for more height! I quickly ran into the deeper water and swam out to the big waves. It was spectacular! The surge added two to three feet of water to the already daunting waves for a truly spirited ride. It lasted about an hour, and then the tide returned to normal. Don took pictures so that I would remember the moment.

Yesterday, we sat in the living room for a half hour, watched television, and waited for the tsunami to hit Hawaii. We had apprehension about our property there, with its close proximity to the ocean. We waited and listened attentively. Cameras showed us the hoards of people congregated on cliffs overlooking the ocean and waiting for the wave. Once, twice, three times the expert from the tsunami center explained that there would most likely not be a wave of water but a gradual rising of the depth of the water. The television stations played up the threat and the people on the cliffs multiplied in number. The third time the expert from the tsunami center calmly explained that there would most likely not be a wave, I glanced at Don with a “Please, release me from the living room” look.

He turned to me and said what I have never heard before in such perfect context, “I have better things to do than watch water rise.” That made me smile.