It is the end of the day. Of just another day to most. But for a few thousand people – perhaps even ten thousand people around the world, this day is not just an ordinary day. For many of us, we are taking the day to mourn losses of family or friends. And at the same time, we are also celebrating our lives. Both in the same day. Both on the anniversary of when a tsunami struck in southeast and south Asia in 2004.
It is a confusing day for many people. For those in the region, it is a day of walking silently to the water. To offer prayers and thoughts and sadness and thanks – perhaps all in one breath – to something or someone that we felt responsible for the day.
For a small group of us, not living in or traveling anymore to Asia, it becomes a day of mixed emotion. How do we think about the day? How do we commemorate.
For the last four years, I have made it a point to tell people about my day. I have spent the day, sometimes alone, thinking about that fateful day in 2004. I spent time writing emails to other survivors. Some were new friends made through the website. Others were people who literally stood side by side with me – watching the waves come and go – taking life with it each time – five years ago.
But today was the five year anniversary. Should I do something special? Should I stay home and mourn? Should I send out an email to friends and family, reminding them of the day, lest they forget?
But not today. Not on the five year anniversary. From this day on, it becomes a personal day for many of us. Today, instead of CNN talking about tsunami anniversaries, they moved on to other tragedies – or perhaps avoided tragedies of a potential terrorist aboard a plane from Amsterdam to the Detroit. But that is a good thing. It is time to move on – so that this day is not longer a press day – and instead, becomes an intimate reminder, based upon what each individual needs the day to be!
In years past, I have reserved this day after Christmas as a reflection day. I would mark the time of the earthquake. The time of the first wave. And then of the second, even more deadly wave. I would read through my journals of the day. I would look at the pictures of devastation. I would read all of the survivor stories at the website www.phutkettsunami.blogspot.com.
It was a day to reflect. And wonder. And mourn. And just be in the moment.
But this year, a confusing activity happened. A long lost friend invited me out for beers and dinner. I had not seen him in a long time, and he was in the middle of a career change.
Should I politely decline, by telling him it was my “memory day?”
But a voice in side of me, told me it was more important to be in the now – and to move on. I want to preserve the memories of the day. But a simple anniversary – a day marking an event – should not be a deciding factor to living the more important day.
I spend the evening today, having beers, listening to his strife of career change. I tried to be as present as possible. A few times, a fleeting thought of, “well, you think you had it bad – you should feel the mourning of a few people around the world…”
But I didn’t.
I was tempted a few times to casually work the topic into the discussion: “And oh, yeah, by the way, do you know what I am commemorating today?”
But over the years, I have realized that that question or comment leads very quickly into a deadend discussion.
“Oh, someone might comment. That is right. How do you feel?” Or they might ask, “Wow – are you ok?”
But no answer can really help the situation. Nor will it make them or you feel any better.
It happened. Then. And today is now. And memory and loss and thinking, now five years later, is simply personal.
This evening, after I returned home from the beer and food with the friend, I went to my Yahoo headlines. I suspected to see something like, “Survivors commemorate the five year anniversary off the Tsunami…” But instead, the headlines read, “Nigerian man charged in Christmas airliner attack” and “Ferry sinks in Philippines..” Should I wonder why there is not a headline about an event five years ago that killed over 200,00 people? Or should I be ok that the world has moved on – and focuses on the news today and now?
As I talked today to a few other survivors, many felt the same sentiment. To us – it is an emotional memory. To the rest of the world, it is a moment in time – a regret – a sadness. And yet, another moment in time.”
That is ok. And perhaps, five years later, that is ok. Perhaps that is how it should be. Perhaps on a five year anniversary – it is time to draw the emotions away from the press – and the crowds, and make it a personal reflection – memory – emotion for each of us personally.
None of my family or friends sent me a note on the anniversary today. And for the first time, I didn’t send them a note. Tell anyone in person. Or let is casually slip out. Today – it was my day. And a day of my fellow survivors.
And perhaps that is a good thing on a five year anniversary!
Memorial services held across Asia in remembrance of 216,000 victims. BANDA ACEH, Indonesia - Next to gentle seas, survivors, friends and family remembered the fury of the Indian Ocean tsunami that swept away more than 200,000 people in 12 countries one year ago Monday and laid waste to entire communities in one of the worst natural disasters in modern history…
Surviving the Tsunami: Stories of Hope highlights the resilience of communities in the face of catastrophe.
It features the stories of four people from Sri Lanka, Indonesia, India and Sweden whose lives were transformed by the worst natural disaster in living memory. The documentary shows the crucial (but often underreported) role that those affected by crises play in their own recovery.
The documentary has been created by the Thomson Reuters Foundation and the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) to pay tribute to survivors.
What were you doing on DECEMBER 26, 2004 - FIve years ago?
www.phukettsunami.blogspot.comOn 26 December 2004, while most of us were enjoying Christmas at home, on the other side of the world people were fighting for their lives.
An earthquake registering 9 on the Richter Scale struck off the western coast of Sumatra, Indonesia on Boxing Day morning, 2004. It triggered tidal waves up to 30 feet high that swept into coastal villages and seaside resorts.
The earthquake was felt as far away as Bangladesh, and the resulting tsunami was so powerful it killed more than 225,000 people in eleven countries.
Watch this video to learn about the BRITISH RED CROSS campaign:
WHAT WERE YOU DOING ON DECEMBER 26?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLAINfwVNgs
Decisions for Recovery: Rebuilding after the Boxing Day tsunami
http://www.recoveringafuture.org.uk/
The FBI on Friday released video footage showing waves rushing in and violently tossing cars and trucks in a parking lot as a deadly tsunami struckAmerican Samoa last week.
The dramatic video was taken on the morning of Sept. 29 from a stationary security camera at the FBI office in Pago Pago. The video shows about a dozen cars, ranging from an SUV to a Volkswagen Beetle, being thrown around like whitewater rafts.
The two-minute clip also shows three people walking in the parking lot shortly before the wave struck. One man runs quickly in the opposite direction less than 30 seconds before the water enters the scene. More....
Erica Wales, a Peace Corps volunteer in the village of Salesatele, said the earthquake woke her up early yesterday morning.The 23-year-old, who has lived in Samoa since June last year and works as a marine protection officer with the Peace Corps, said she was about 15 metres from the beach when the waves hit. She is blogging from Samoa and provides her story:
I’m sure most of you have heard about the earthquake and tsunami that hit Samoa by now and am wondering how I’m doing. Well, here’s the story:
I was sleeping when the 8.0 earthquake hit. My house started shaking and things were falling off shelves. Books fell down, the phone mounted on my wall fell down, cans of food fell…I’m smart enough to know when things start falling it is probably wise to get out. So grabbed my phone and left my room. The shaking lasted a long time too, at least a minute. I texted a good friend here with the message of “shit that was big” when it was over. She agreed. About that time I got a call from the Peace Corps medical officer that I should probably move inland because the possibility of a tsunami. So I grabbed an ie and left.
I was walking on the road which parallels the beach when I noticed something wasn’t right. I could see structures like rocks and coral which I have never seen above water, not even at the lowest of low tides. This didn’t bode well. Then I noticed the really odd wave action, something just wasn’t right. I had just turned the corner of the road and was now headed inland, versus parallel to the beach as I had been just one minute before, when the waves hit the beach and surged up the road. At this point I started running, as did my village. As I was running I could hear the water surging up the river, tearing trees down.
I got up to the main road where most everyone was. The matai were directing everyone to head to Siuniu, the village inland. I could see the look of panic and worry as parents asked where their kids were, for they were headed to the primary school which is near me. The matai were organized and knew where to direct the parents to in order to find their kids. I went up to Siuniu and waited with my village. At this point we were getting reports of a school in Poutasi (a few villages to the west) collapsing and killing three kids. Everyone was on phones, calling relatives and friends in neighboring villages, trying to find out what was going on. Reports came that 50 people in Poutasi were dead, buried in the sand. A boy in neighboring Salani died. And 15 in Aleipata were dead. As far as I know at this point, no one in my village died. We are lucky.
Then I got a report that my house and another were destroyed. I wanted to go and see if this was true, but I knew to stay. I waited a few hours then went to see what the damage was. Sure enough, my house was flattened. The tsunami ripped the house from its foundation and deposited it 10 feet in front of the house, collapsed beyond repair. I could see all of my stuff waterlogged and muddy. I’m not sure what can be salvaged. I’m going back tomorrow to find out what I can still use, but I know most things will be trashed.
While that is unfortunate, at least it was just my house and not my home. The other family I feel bad for because it was their home. I had stuff there which will be expensive to replace, but it wasn’t everything in the world I owned, just everything I Samoa I owned. Most of my stuff is still back in the US. I feel bad for the other family who truly lost everything. I feel really bad about the three computers I had in my house for the school. I don’t think those will be salvaged, but another Peace Corps Volunteer already told me she would donate two to my school, so I’m happy about that. I also am upset that I don’t know where my dog is. I saw her after the earthquake, and then don’t know where she went. I hope she is ok. Animals are smarter than humans in many ways, so she probably left before I did, but I’m still worried. I hope I find her.
The Peace Corps Office came out and drove me to Apia. I could see the damage in the villages as I passed. Poutasi looks pretty bad; boats are inland, houses devastated, and the school collapsed. Their village is pretty flat on the seaward side, so the wave did quite a bit of damage. The district hospital there looked like it was spared, might have water damage though. As we were driving over Cross Island Road, many cars were headed south to help clean up and try to find their family.
Once in Apia, small aftershocks could still be felt throughout the day. Around 5:30 pm the tsunami sirens went off. Everyone headed up the mountains carrying what they could. It turned out to be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry. Most businesses were closed as people went to help.
Report is over 80 here are dead. If you want to help, go here.
I want to say thank you to all my fellow PCVs. I don’t think my phone was quite for five minutes yesterday morning. Everyone wanted to see if I was ok; thanks, makes me feel loved. When I got to Apia, a bunch of people offered up their house and everyone wanted to know what they could do to help. I appreciate the support guys. You guys are awesome! Also to everyone who posted on facebook and sent me e-mails, thanks for your support as well. And finally to Teuila; I was awake after the earthquake but not enough awake to be thinking about a tsunami. If she hadn’t called right after the quake stopped, I probably would have been at my house. If I had left my house just a minute later…well, yeah.
I gave a written eyewitness account to Sydney Morning Herald and a phone interview to NY Daily News. Here’s the link for the NY article:
So that is all I know for now. I’m off to buy some new clothes because I have the clothes on my back and one spare. I’ll keep you posted on what goes on.
SAMOA, Sumatra and Indonesia Tsunami and Earthquake Survivors
EARTHQUAKES in Indonesia and Sumatra TSUNAMI in Samoa and American Samoa
Our hearts, sympathy and prayers go out to the survivors of the earthquakes hitting Indonesia and Sumatra, as well as the tsunami that hit Samoa and American Samoa on Tuesday. In Samoa and American Samoa, at least 140 people died after a magnitude 8.0 quake struck at dawn Tuesday, sending four waves, each 15 to 20 feet high. The earthquake that struck western Indonesia on Wednesday killed at least 529 people, more than half of them in the coastal Sumatran city of Padang, according to news reports. Thousands more were believed dead, said Indonesian Health Minister Siti Fadilah Supari, including many trapped in an estimated 500 buildings that toppled or were damaged in the magnitude 7.6 quake.
The downtown area of Fagatogo, a town of 3,000 on the shore of Pago Pago Harbor in American Samoa, is submerged by seawater after a massive tsunami flattened villages and swept cars and people out to sea. Triggered by a powerful underwater earthquake, four tsunami waves 15 to 20 feet high roared ashore on American Samoa, reaching up to a mile inland. Read more at ABC here: STORY
SURVIVOR STORIES from SAMOA
Our hearts go out to the Samoa, Sumatra and Indonesia survivors…
SURVIVOR JOHN NEWTON "The earthquake itself was terrifying," said John Newton, 66, of American Samoa. "Then the tsunami came just minutes after. The force it came with was just overwhelming. It destroyed everything in its path." Newton said a friend in a remote part of the island had died in the disaster. "I don't think anyone here will be untouched by this," he said. Wooden structures were toppled and the contents of buildings were swept away. Cars were overturned and roads strewn with debris. The tsunami knocked out one of two power plants in American Samoa, and communications throughout the islands were spotty. More at the LATIMES
SURVIVOR DENNIS FAMUI Dennis Famui said he walked outside his hillside home immediately after the earth shook and looked out at the bay at the center of American Samoa's main island. "A couple minutes after the earthquake, you could see the water draw back and expose the reef and part of the docks," said Famui, 45. "Then the water came back and tossed cars and container boxes and pushed them right back into the bay." He said the tsunami wasn't a wave that could be spotted from a distance, but a mass of water that rose with steady, destructive force as it neared. More at the LATIMES
SURVIVOR JOHN BLACKER: TASMANIAN tsunami survivor John Blacker, now recovering in a Samoan hospital, has told of his ordeal. An Australian survivor of the Samoa tsunami clung to a palm tree while waves battered him and his wife before she was ripped from his arms and drowned. John Blacker — who cannot swim — said the waves tossed him around and pounded him with debris for "what seemed like forever", the Hobart Mercury reports. More NEWS HERE.
SURVIVOR JOEY CUMMINGS Joey Cummings Watched Water Rise to His 2nd Story Window Just Minutes after Quake Rocked South Pacific.
SURVIVOR TOGIOLA TULAFONO American Samoa Governor Togiola Tulafono said the effects of the tsunami would touch everyone. "I don't think anybody is going to be spared in this disaster," he said. Eni Faleomavaega, who represents American Samoa in the US Congress, said the waves had "literally wiped out all the low-lying areas in the Samoan islands". He said the tsunami had struck too quickly for a full evacuation. Samoa's Deputy Prime Minister Misa Telefoni told AAP that the ocean had receded, heralding the oncoming tsunami, "within five minutes" of the quake. "With the location and the intensity... I don't know if anything better could have been done."
We invite MORE SAMOA SURVIVORS to share their personal stories.
INTERACTIVE TSUNAMI WEBSITE from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution
The Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and the Coast Ocean Institute has sponsored the creation of a INTERACTIVE TSUNAMI website. The goal of the website it to help people learn about tsunami’s, gather tips to prepare for, and survive a tsunami, understand tsunami related science research, and to find out about actual historic tsunami’s. The site features three survivors of the Southeast Asian tsunami, including myself, Dwayne Medows and Piyanooch Ananpakadee. Dwayne was on vacation in Khoa Lak. Piyanooch was in Phuket, working at the Bangkok hospital. You can find the INTERACTIVE SITE HERE: http://www.whoi.edu/home/interactive/tsunami/
And you can find the interviews on the site by clicking on the SURVIVING A TSUNAMI TAB, and by clicking on SURVIVOR STORIES.
Aaron le Boutillier is a tsunami survivor. He was on the Thai island of Koh Phi Phi where had been working for many years. He has published a book about his experiences on the morning of December 26. “And Then One Morning” is his account of the day that changed the lives of many around the world.
For anyone caught up in the tsunami, however, it was all over in a matter of minutes. They were either alive or dead. Over a quarter of a million people lost their lives while millions who survived had to deal with the tragedy in countless ways.
And Then One Morning encapsulates the expat life on a small tropical island and introduces the reader to the main characters who either survived or perished in the tsunami. Chief amongst these is the Oswald family. Heinz Oswald spent eighteen years developing a successful dive business on Phi Phi. Aaron visited Phi Phi that Christmas to help Heinz and his family move to Phuket on the afternoon of December 26. That move never happened.Hours after the tsunami, Aaron found Heinz’s wife and four year old son alive. There is relief and surprise as other characters are found alive. But for the next two weeks there is the trauma of the search for Heinz and his two daughters.
And Then One Morning captures Aaron’s growth from a care-free twenty-two year old into a successful business owner in Singapore by the time of the tsunami. Following the tsunami he took responsibility to help the survivors of the Oswald family as well as other friends from the island.
Four years on there are still people suffering from the tsunami in a multitude of ways. Aaron has decided that the author royalties from the sale of his book should go to helping some of those still traumatised by the disaster. For each book sold, Aaron gets 12% of the sale price, and turns around and donates it back to charities in Thailand to continue to help.
The first donation of monies from Big Wave Publications was on the 24th October 2008 where with the help of all that attended and the Phuket Lions club we raised 30,000 Baht for the Sadtree Orphanage. The second donation will also be for 30,000 Baht to the Nilubon school in December. The monies will be generated from the Singapore book launch which has kindly been sponsored by the Grand Hyatt Singapore and their F.O.R.C.E program.
This is an excerpt from Tsunami survivor Aaron Le Boutillier in his book “And Then One Morning.” For anyone caught up in the tsunami, however, it was all over in a matter of minutes. They were either alive or dead. Over a quarter of a million people lost their lives while millions who survived had to deal with the tragedy in countless ways. Aaron continues to live and work in Southeast Asia. The proceeds of his book continue to make a difference in Thailand. Read more about Aaron and his book here:
At about ten the next morning I was in that comfortable slumber zone that is somewhere between being fully awake and fully asleep. Neither here nor there. I was vaguely aware of what was happening around me. I could recall that it had been a normal evening last night and I had no reason to leap out of bed. I turned over and listened to the sounds of the village. After last night I was a long way from being fully awake.
Suddenly my brain started informing me that there was a lot of commotion outside in the form of children screaming. I woke briefly and started thinking that someone was playing a joke and scaring the kids. Idiots. In my morning haze I made out that the sounds were similar to that of children playing and screaming. As I turned over, something in my mind alerted me to the fact that the screaming children sounded genuine almost making me scared to listen to them. At least my brain told me these were children. After all, why would adults be screaming like that? My memory drifted back to the bizarre worry I had last night about a fire. I could not smell any burning. But the screaming continued and now I could hear it was mixed with another noise that was building. A crunching, grinding and increasingly roaring noise. Half awake and half asleep I suddenly became very much awake. It would be almost another two days before I would sleep again.
As I finally awoke I heard in Thai, screams of wing wing which means ‘run, run’ and total confusion and panic. Mixed in with the screams was the sound of feet pounding on the sand street outside my window. I jumped out of bed and pushed open my wooden window. I looked down on to the street. Straight away I saw Heinz with Anna under his arms and Tina holding on to his hand. I shouted down to him and Heinz looked at me for a brief second with eyes that will haunt me till the day I die.
They were the eyes of pure animal fear, eyes of pure animal panic and eyes of utter human disbelief. My throat instantly dried up and I found myself with a tear in the corner of my eye as I stared at the total panic and uncertainty that had gripped the so-certain Heinz as he stood staring at what I was about to see. At first I saw a small rivulet of water trickling down the street and started thinking: someone’s washing machine had flooded.
Heinz turned with his two daughters and ran into his shop. He pulled down the metal shutters to the shop behind him. I looked down the street and could only see people, children, tourists, Thais running, “wing wing run run” they screamed. In Thai, in English, in Swedish, in German, in Danish, in Hebrew, in Russian. I turned from the window to run out of my bedroom and on to the open staircase leading down to the street. I felt trapped but already I knew that going down those stairs was not an option. My first thought was that there was a mad man with a gun or a knife running down the street and randomly hitting out to anyone that got in his way. But I had not heard any gunshots, yet. I ran on to the staircase expecting to see a group of mad psychotic terrorists. I had not heard an explosion, yet. Just a thousand or more screams in tens of different languages. A United Nations of fear and panic.
I got half way down the stairs when I could clearly see the reason for panic. It had nothing do with Mister Osama and his compatriots. The trickle of water from the leaky washing machine had now risen slightly in the past few seconds from first opening my bedroom window. It was now hurtling down the street at an alarming speed. It was literally being pumped towards me, or so it seemed, by some unseen power behind. As I looked down towards Mama Restaurant and the main street I could see two walls of water surging around Angelo’s restaurant where we had enjoyed a magical Christmas Day evening the night before. The two walls of water converged on the corner shop.
The travel agent on the opposite side of the main street imploded and exploded all in one go as it seemed to be morphing into a lump of contorted wood and corrugated iron interspersed with the shattering sound of glass. In that split second I turned my head to the side and watched for maybe one second as another wall of water and the imploded/exploded remains of the building came surging towards me. The sound of the power of water, the crunching and folding of buildings and the screams of desperation, the panic of people being overtaken by this wall mesmerized me as I stood there. I was like a rabbit sat looking at the headlights.
The wall of water and mixed up rubble and mixed up people hit my flimsy staircase within a second or two. I instinctively ran back up the stairs towards my room. Really, there was nowhere else to run. The sound was deafening and the shrills and panic of fear were all around me. It was the sound of solid buildings being crushed and wooden pillars groaning under the immense force, the power, of the water that were most unusual and new to me. As I got to the top of the staircase I saw the couple in the room next to me standing outside their door completely frozen and embracing each other.
I ran straight down the narrow corridor and started panicking, heavily. There was nowhere to go. I looked back and knew that if the wall of water chose to come up the wooden staircase, the route I had just come along, then it was goodbye Aaron. That was a quick life.
The water was rushing through the narrow opening to the street and being funnelled at great force into the stair well as it rushed down faster than any human could run. I started jumping up and banging on the ceiling and the walls in a desperate attempt to find an escape route that would at least take me further up than this level which was now perilously close to the rising wall of water. It was becoming a futile attempt. I started screaming at the couple who continued to stand and hold each other.
“Fuck. We’re going to die. Fuck.”
I repeated what was already seemingly obvious.
I must have run up and down the narrow corridor for a few seconds before giving up the futile search and going back to the open staircase. The water was now surging around my thighs and I pushed both my hands against the side of the narrow wooden corridor and looked at the incredible but terrifying sight in front of me. The level of the water was now just below my line of sight. The current out in the street was incredible and the sound of buildings collapsing around me was deafening. The screams were now impossible to hear over the thunderous roar of the water and in that brief moment I knew this was it.
I was going to die. For the first time in my life I had resigned myself to dying. No more tomorrows, no more dreams, no more anything. It was goodbye Banana Boat Man. Goodbye to his close friend Mister Bum Boil. Goodbye Mum, goodbye Dad. Whoosh, that was Aaron Le Boutillier. Remember him? He had some grand plans for making a mint before he retired at forty. And then one day a leaking washing machine drowned him. What a way to go.
I stood in the corridor, tensioned against the walls and prepared myself that any second the current would finally sweep my legs from me and I would join the torrent of mangled wood, concrete, glass and corrugated roofing and thrashing, panic-driven humans that was still rushing passed me and on to wherever it was next headed.
My immediate thought in those brief seconds were of my Mum. I apologized to her in my mind for not being quick or smart enough to outwit this disaster and also for the pain I would put her in over the next few weeks. I closed my eyes and could feel my position and stability weakening as the water surged more.
The inherent ability a human, any animal really, has to survive is incredible. We’ve all read about animals that are stuck in traps or snares that will chew their way through a leg to release themselves. A few years ago I recall reading about a rock-climber who had an accident where he ended up with his arm trapped under a huge boulder on a lonely mountain far from anybody. After about the third day when he realised he was not going to be found and that he was also not going to live too much longer he got a small knife and slowly but surely he amputated his arm and freed himself. He lived to tell the tale.
Well anybody who has read this far will now know that I lived to tell the tale! However, I have no recollection of what happened in those next few seconds. I did not slowly and methodically amputate an arm. Or any other appendage for that matter. One second I was braced between the two corridor walls and feeling my grip sliding away as the waters continued to claw at my body. The next second I was on a balcony. The distance between where I had been standing and next door was minimal but I must have just leaped across. I then found myself running across the balcony towards the roof of the post office which was directly in front of the Phi Phi Hotel. From the balcony there was a small rise in height to the next roof top which I clambered up on. Within a few seconds I had gone from accepting death to being perched on the apex of a corrugated roof two buildings down from my original position.
As I sat perched on the roof as nonchalantly as if this was an everyday happening for Aaron the Roof Percher, I was overcome with an enormous explosion of relief.
“ I’m alive. I am alive. I do not believe it.”
For now. I had no clue what had happened and at that particular moment as I was perched on my corrugated iron roof I was not really trying to analyse what had gone on and what might yet go on. I was alive. Well alive. For now.
READ MORE
Read more from Aaron Le Boutillier’ s book, “And Then One Morning” here:
This is an excerpt from Tsunami survivor Aaron Le Boutillier in his book “And Then One Morning.” For anyone caught up in the tsunami, however, it was all over in a matter of minutes. They were either alive or dead. Over a quarter of a million people lost their lives while millions who survived had to deal with the tragedy in countless ways. Aaron continues to live and work in Southeast Asia. The proceeds of his book continue to make a difference in Thailand. Read more about Aaron and his book here:
We live on a generally solid little planet that provides us with everything we need. We have enough oxygen to breath. But not enough to fry the atmosphere every time we strike a match. We get just enough heat from the sun to make sure that our Little Planet’s water does not all turn to ice. But we don’t get so much heat that all of our Little Planet’s precious water gets boiled away as steam. Astronomers hunting for life in the Universe are looking for a planet like ours, around a star like ours. And at roughly the same distance as ours. They call this the Goldilocks Zone. Everything is just right. But our Little Planet is not quite as quiet as we generally understand. It is certainly not an inert lump of rock. Deep within, the pressures and heat turn rocks and metals to liquid.
I learned all about the powers within our Little Planet when I did my geography O Level at sixteen. However, that tiny little part of the Little Planet that I come from, the island called Jersey, seemed to be, to me, an especially quiet and innocuous corner of our Little Planet. Most of the dramatic stuff I learned in our Geography lessons does not happen on Jersey. We don’t have a waterfall like Niagara or the Victoria Falls where billions of gallons of water flow over every hour or so. Jersey does not have volcanoes and earthquakes – the two dramatic events that helped to show that a crackpot idea called Continental Drift really is real. These things happen elsewhere. Jersey doesn’t drift. It’s always been where it is.
I recall my Geography teacher in the eighties teaching us all about Continental Drift. And he was man enough to admit that when he was our age, indeed when he was learning Geography at university, he had learned that Continental Drift was a joke theory. Not to be taken seriously. Something to have a snigger about.
But he now freely admitted to all us wide-eyed sixteen year olds that continents move about.
“But Sir. We’re a titchy little island, Sir. What about Jersey, Sir? Do we move about?
The Theory of Continental Drift could be used to explain why South America and Africa looked like parts of a jig-saw puzzle. It was not some coincidence. They really had been joined at one time. And then they drifted apart and made the Atlantic Ocean. And, especially weird for a lad from Jersey, Continental Drift helped to explain how an island called India could make a head-on collision with Asia about fifty million years ago. My Geography teacher taught us that the Himalaya was living proof of that massive collision. Scrunched up like the bonnet of a car after it had run into a largely immoveable object such as a brick wall at high speed.
“Sir, will Jersey smash into France? Or will it smash into England? I hope it’s England, Sir.”
A few years later I sat amazed in front of the television as Sir David Attenborough struggled out of breath high up in the Himalaya as he showed fossils of marine animals.
Marine fossils high up in the mountains? Excuse me.
I learned that South America and Africa have been torn apart by the previously crackpot Theory of Continental Drift. And I learned that the Himalayan Mountains, the tallest on our Little Planet, were created by the high-speed collision of a large island called India with the even larger lump of land called continental Asia. However, elsewhere on our generally friendly Little Planet there are other areas where continents are not being torn apart or being rammed into each other. These are areas where continents are rubbing along-side each other.
A sport I am particularly keen on is wrestling/grappling. And I hasten to add I do Real Wrestling. I do not mean the farce where over-muscled, steroid-compromised show-biz characters wearing ridiculous face-paint and garish costumes, and going by dramatic names like Gentleman Jackhammer Jim slam each other around while semi-naked porn-star wanna-be’s urge them on. No, wrestling in its purest form involves two powerful, equally matched forces coming together. Tremendous amounts of energy between two human beings gets expended while the two forces come together. But then one gives. And suddenly it is all over. There is a winner and there is a loser.
I had grown up with dramatic stories showing us all how wild and hugely uncertain our Little Planet can really be. Over thirty five thousand human beings got a sudden but very final (for them) taste of that violence one morning in late August, 1883. A little island, smaller than Jersey and only slightly bigger than Phi Phi, decided to evaporate. Of course, islands don’t evaporate. Not really. But in one almighty explosion, several billion tonnes of Krakatoa went somewhere else. That is evaporation by my understanding.
We now know that much of it sank into the big hole that opened up beneath it which was created by the explosive powers way down deep beneath the ocean waves. The rest of it ended up in the upper atmosphere of our Little Planet and spent the next few years giving us all spectacular sunsets. But thirty five thousand people never got to be dazzled by these spectacular sunsets. They awoke one morning and went about their usual daily routine. Stopped dramatically by a wall of water that was so high it left a Dutch warship several miles inland and over a hundred feet above the level of the sea. The twenty eight sailors on that warship never knew what hit them. Neither did the other thirty five thousand or so people that died that morning.
And so it was on December 26, 2004. The day of the Big Wave.
READ MORE
Read more from Aaron Le Boutillier’ s book, “And Then One Morning” here:
This website is about SURVIVAL. On December 26, 2004, hundreds of thousands of people witnesses, experienced and survived a tsunami. This weblog by Rick Von Feldt journals their experiences of survival. (Rick Vonfeldt)
INDEX - Where to start
PHUKET TSUNAMI started out as one person's blog on what he saw in PHUKET THAILAND. It has now grown in to more than that - with many other FIRST HAND ACCOUNTS from Asia on what people saw and experienced in the TSUNAMI of December 26, 2004
MUST READ is Luke Simmonds amazing story of being out to sea sailing - and getting swept inland with the tsunami - only to go on to help out others who were hurt and injured!
LUKE SIMMONDS
27 PHOTOS - Rick Vonfeldt took 27 photos immediately after the disaster. You can see the devistation to Patong Beach.
PHOTOS OF THE WRECKAGE
A FIVE MINUTE EXCERPT from National Public Radioof Rick Von Feldt's journal read on NPR RADIO
Go here to LISTEN:
JOURNAL READ ONLINE
Rick Von Feldt, an American, was based in Asia at the time of the tsunami. From the moment the tsunami hit in Patong Beach in Phuket, Thailand, he documented his observations and insights to the emotion and devistation. Later, his goal was to establish a website for other survivors to post their experiences. But it also serves as a purpose for others to learn first hand what happened in those awful moments of the tsunami. The website has been featured on CNN, BBC, numerous newspapers and magazines - and is featured now as part of text books and cirriculm for students to learn about what happened.
You can write to Rick at: rvonfeldt@yahoo.com
SURVIVOR DAVE LOWEDAVE LOWE Dave was working in Maldives, when water taller than the entire island hit. Read his heroic and frightening story.. And an UPDATE from Dave after he went back for the DAVE LOWE ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY
MARK NELSON Mark was one of those on the GROUND FLOORS of Patong Beach. He was staying at the Ban Thai resort on Patong Beach. He tells of his story when the first wave hit.
DENNIS HOOGENKAMP DENNIS HOOGENKAMP writes a series of emails about his TSUNAMI EXPERIENCES and work in Phuket, Kao Lak, takuapa and Aceh in Sumatra.
SURVIVING PARENTS of Leanne Cox This is a very sad story. Leanne Cox was never found. However, her parents write to letters to their daughter, even thought she never would read them.
SALY HUYTON Four friends are awakened by an earthquake while on the island of Phi Phi. Their story is shocking.
FIONA AND SIMON A boyfriend and a girlfriend come together in Thailand for a much needed vacation – and barely survive.
PAT BENTON Pat describes her and her husband’s “THREE DAYS OF HELL IN KHAO LAKâ€
NAOMI BOWMAN’s STORY Naomi Bowman describes her experience on Phi Phi – and what she is now doing to make a difference.
CHARLEY MARSHALL's story Gary Marshall, father of 8 year old Charley – sends in Charley’s word of what happened to him.
SURVIVOR MARK BRANDON (with Jason Beech and Rick Everett)
MARK BRANDON describes the first moments of when the first wave hit as he was standing in the lobby across from the beach…â€It wasn’t so much the height of the wave, but its crushing power and speed…â€
MARK BRANDON, JASON BEECH, RICK EVERETT
SURVIVOR MARK OBERLEMARK OBERLEMark and his family arrive to Phuket and were awoken by the earthquake. As a doctor, he describes what he saw that morning. DOCTOR MARK OBERLE
SURVIVOR DOROTHY WILKINSON
DOROTHY WILKINSONand her partner Tom were visiting Tom’s 58 year old parents who had moved to Thailand. They decided to visit the island of Khao Lak. Dorothy’s partner and his parents were washed away. Dorothy snapped her coccyx, crushed three vertebrae, almost severed her left arm at the elbow where there was a hole the size of a tennis ball, and her head was so badly gashed that her skull was exposed. She thought she was going to die. But with the help of others – she survived. DOROTHY WILKINSON and COLIN and CAROLE FAIRBAIRN
SURVIVOR VERNON OLSON
VERNON OLSONwas in Patong when the tsunami smashed into the resort town. Despite being knocked over and swallowed up by the waves, the 66-year-old escaped without serious injury. But he reflects on the 40 people who died around him. VERNON OLSON
