Boyd Morrison - The Tsunami Countdown

“That is the kind of wave the kids at Laupahoehoe Elementary School saw rushing toward them. Except the wave that day was twice the height of the one you just saw. It swept toward them at seventy kilometers per hour, ten meters high, and all they could do was run. Some made it to high ground because they were still in the school when they saw the wave coming in.” Kai put on his most serious face. “But sixteen children and five schoolteachers died that day. They never even found three of the children. They died because they didn’t understand what was about to happen until it was too late. And that’s why most of the 250,000 people in Southeast Asia died. They didn’t know the signs of a coming tsunami, and they didn’t have any warning.”

A boy near Kai raised his hand. “But we have a warning system, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do. Where do you live in Japan?”

“Tokyo.”

“Well, if an earthquake happens in Alaska, or even as far away as Chile, we would have at least three hours, and usually a lot longer, to warn everyone in Japan about a possible tsunami. But you could have an earthquake right off the coast of Japan, and people would have only a few minutes to get to high ground before the tsunami hit. That’s why it’s important for you to know the warning signs yourself.”

Kai had gone over the warning signs earlier in the tour, but kids often weren’t paying attention at that point, so he had come up with a technique to make the warning signs more memorable. He closed the laptop and looked at each of the children in turn.

“Now I have a little quiz for you, and I’ve got prizes for the person who can yell out the answer first. When you hear the tsunami warning siren at the beach and you can’t get to a TV or radio to find out what’s going on, what do you do?”

A girl to Kai’s right blurted out an answer. “You go to high ground!”

“That’s correct,” he said. He turned and called out, “Bilbo, bring the prize!”

Bilbo trotted out from the room behind him with a little bag dangling from his mouth. Kai pointed at the girl and the dog walked over and dropped the bag in front of her. The girl squealed with delight and gave Bilbo a pat before he walked back over to Kai. They had practiced that routine all year, and Bilbo was getting good at it.

“Very good,” Kai said. “And remember to get an adult to help you whenever you can. Next question: When you feel an earthquake and you’re at the beach, what do you do?”

Another girl at the back screamed out before the others, “Get to high ground!”

“Exactly. Bilbo?”

While Bilbo took the next bag to the student, a voice that was definitely not a child’s whispered in Kai’s ear.

“I can’t believe you are still doing that cheesy trick with the dog,” Brad said. “You are such a nerd.”

“Excuse me,” Kai said to the teacher, pushing Brad back into the reception area. “What are you doing here?”

“The guys from Ma‘alea chickened out. Since I have the morning free now, I thought I’d come by and see what’s up.”

“I’m not done yet. Can you just stay out of the way for a little while?”

“No problem.”

When Kai returned, the teacher, a pretty, petite woman in her thirties, raised her hand. “Excuse me, Dr. Tanaka.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kai saw Brad still leaning on the door frame, smiling at her.

“Yes, Ms. Yamaguchi.”

“How high is ‘high ground’?”

“That’s a very good question,” Kai said. “We develop inundation maps that show us where the water would reach on dry land, usually about thirty feet above sea level. You can find them in all the phone books.” Kai held up the tsunami evacuation route sign he kept around for the tour. The blue pictograph depicted a series of small stylized white waves followed by a final large wave. “And you should see this sign all over Hawaii and something very close to it in Japan. It will tell you where to go. Any other questions?”

Nobody raised a hand, so Kai continued. “Now the last question: If you’re at the beach and you see the water receding very quickly from the beach, what do you do?”

This time all the kids yelled the answer simultaneously: “Get to high ground!”

“Well, since you all answered, you all deserve a prize.” Kai thrust some bags into Brad’s hands. “Here, make yourself useful.”

As they were handing out the gift bags, Reggie walked into the room. He had an odd look on his face, as if he had uncomfortable news to deliver.

“You done?” he said.

“Yes. In fact, I’ve probably already kept them longer than they planned.” Kai said his good-byes to the teacher and kids. “Brad, would you show Ms. Yamaguchi the way out?”

“My pleasure,” Brad said, leading her to the door.

Kai turned to Reggie. “What’s going on? You look like you just swallowed a bug.”

“It’s Christmas Island. We were expecting a telemetry report from the tide gauge five minutes ago. It never came.”

“That’s funny. Didn’t we just get a reading from it an hour ago?”

“Sure did. Everything was fine.”

“Did you check the equipment on our end?” Kai asked, a sudden chill creeping up his spine. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Just finished. It’s not us. That leaves two possibilities. Either the tide gauge is malfunctioning …”

Kai completed Reggie’s sentence. “Or it’s not there anymore.”

9:35 a.m .

As the Japanese students filed out to their van, Kai followed Reggie back into the warning center’s telemetry room. Reggie’s calm was now replaced by an edginess Kai had only seen a few times. “Kind of an odd fluke,” Reggie said. “Don’t you think?”

“What’s happening?” said Brad, entering the room. He saw the tension, and his eyes lit up. “Is it a tsunami?”

“Look, Brad,” Kai said, “I don’t mind if you want to hang around, but we could get very busy. If you’re going to get in the way, you’ll have to leave.”

Brad put up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “No problem. I just want to watch. This is fun. Usually, your job is so dull.” He retreated to the other side of the room and took a seat.

Kai leaned over Reggie as he typed into his computer. “You think the busted tide gauge is too coincidental?” Kai asked.

“I don’t know,” Reggie said. “We detect a seismic disturbance in the general vicinity, and that’s the exact time for the tide gauge to go on the fritz?”

“It hasn’t failed since I’ve been here, but you said it has in the past?”

“Well, it has broken down two times in the past three years: once from a short circuit and once from a storm that knocked over the satellite uplink antenna.”

“Is there a storm in the area?”

“I just checked. There is one, but the storm is northwest of Christmas Island. Shouldn’t be affecting it.”

“How big would the tsunami have to be to take out that tide gauge? Is it a mark seven?”

“Yeah. The wave would have to be at least eight meters high to take out a mark seven gauge.”

Over twenty feet high. High enough to cover the entire island.

“Who’s our contact on Christmas Island? Steve something?”

“Steve Bryant. He does a little maintenance on the gauge from time to time. No answer, either at his home or his office. In fact, I can’t even get his voice mail. It won’t ring through. All I get is a fast busy signal.”

“Let’s try again. The phones down there aren’t very reliable. You keep trying to get Steve, and I’ll call the operator.”

The operator didn’t have any better luck getting through, so Kai had her attempt several different numbers they had in the Rolodex for Christmas Island. None of them went through.