4. A Wave of Apprehension

On May 7th I found myself near the California-Oregon border looking for a place to hide for the night. Right on the border, between the “You are now leaving California” and the “Welcome to Oregon” signs I saw a narrow dirt road that went off into the overgrowth. Poking my van in there, around a couple of bends and down a rough grade, I came to a flat clear area between rows of sand dunes. It looked like a large packed earth parking area that had seen better days. Later I found out it was an abandoned airstrip. I proceeded north on this, dodging huge water-filled potholes for about half a mile. The sand dunes to the west were quite tall and formed a barrier from the wind. The dunes to the east were not quite as tall and had a lot of growth on them. The whole area was used by dirt bikers and I could see two in the distance. I came to a small track that led into a hollow behind some trees. After a quick survey on foot I decided I could get the van behind those trees and out of sight without getting stuck in the sand. This I accomplished with about five minutes of maneuvering for a level position.

I was quite pleased with this spot. It was low enough that the surrounding dunes hid the van unless you were very near. It was out of the wind. Georgia liked it. She even ventured out of the van. She prefers grass and bushes to surf and streams.

I poured myself a glass of wine and settled down to write in my log. After a few minutes I looked up and saw a man making his way straight for me. He had a semi-official look, blue jeans but a blue wind breaker and tractor cap that had some sort of insignia on them.

“Oh no!” I murmured. In order for this guy to have found me he almost had to have been making a point of it.

“Hi, I’m from the fire department,” he volunteered. “Oh, that’s it,” I thought, “I’m a fire hazard.”

“Have you been listening to your radio?”

“No, should I?”

“There’s been an earthquake in Alaska and a tidal wave is expected to hit here at about 9:30.”

“No kidding?”

“Yep. We’re combing the region telling folks to leave low-lying areas.” And off he went. Needless to say, that isn’t what I expected. And I certainly was in a low-lying area. At that moment it was almost 7:00 p.m. but still quite light.

I battened down the hatches and was quickly underway. As I was doing this I thought, if there really is going to be a tidal wave, I want to see it. But where should I go? Brookings Harbor was only about five miles north so I headed that way. A tidal wave or tsunami would play havoc with a harbor like Brookings.

Tidal wave, tsunami, seismic wave, they are the same thing. The Japanese word tsunami is in vogue right now. It says it all in one word and the phenomena has nothing to do with tides anyway.

Upon arrival at Brookings I began looking for high ground. I saw a little lane that lead to a bluff backing the harbor. I started up this lane which turned into a gravel surface and finally ended up on top. I could see practically the whole harbor from this point. If anything was going to happen I had a ringside seat.

Tidalwave

Tidalwave

The bluff was about 100 feet high and I figured that was high enough. There were several small homes up there but none of them seemed to be occupied. Probably summer homes and summer hadn’t quite arrived. At this time it was about 7:15 p.m., still light and I could see a number of boats preparing to get underway. So I began my own personal tsunami watch.

During the next two hours the harbor was a beehive of activity. I counted thirty-seven boats and one ship that got underway and left the harbor. It began to get dark and I could see their running lights out at sea. The ship was the YAQUINA and had U.S. Army Corps of Engineers markings; I believe it was a dredge. Auto traffic in the harbor area was heavy, a Coast Guard helicopter landed, and then the police arrived and began to regulate the traffic.

Georgia decided this new place was interesting. She jumped down from the driver’s side window and began to explore the area. The radio advised that the first waves could be expected at 9:47.p.m. In 1964 the area was hit by a rather damaging tsunami, the result of the big Alaskan quake of that year. Consequently, people there took such things seriously.

“Oh oh!” A glance over my shoulder revealed Georgia cornered by a cat at least twice as big as she was. I slid open the side door and Georgia made a dash for it. The other cat just looked puzzled. I think his intentions were amorous, but Georgia wouldn’t understand that. Safe inside, Georgia took a position at the window facing her recent encounter.

About 9:30 p.m. it started to quiet down, no boats had left in quite some time. Close to a hundred boats were still in the harbor plus at least fifty others hauled out on dry land for repairs. But apparently everybody that was going to leave
had. Auto traffic fell off dramatically. The radio said that Hawaii should have received a wave by then but reported nothing.

Now, I know it would have made much more interesting reading if I could report that huge waves started to arrive at precisely 9:47 p.m. and churned the harbor into total chaos creating a vast economic and human disaster . . . but that was not the case. I apologize for the anticlimax, but I can’t wish that it had happened simply for the sake of a good story. I’m sure that many people much more directly involved were immensely relieved that nothing came to pass.

Shortly after 10:00 p.m. I gave up my watch and hit the sack. But not Georgia; she remained glued to the window for quite some time . . . the tom watch.

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Sunday, September 6th, 2009 Chapters 1 — 10

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