Staying Connected

It was just after five Saturday morning when I hear the flip-flop padding of the newspaper deliver man. I was wake, but hadn’t flex any muscles except to test the soreness of my butt. Too much sitting around yesterday. The newspaper landed with a whack against the front screen door. I wanted to see the news, but I dozed off again. The sun’s light filtered over Hualalai and through the thin wisps of vog stretched over the summit by the time Dad called. The last time we talked had been about 4 the previous morning. “I think we dodged the bullet,” a phrase he is more prone to use for missing forecasted snow storms in upstate New York. “That’s good news, Val.” he replied.

It was good news. Not only for me, but for the whole state of Hawaii which had sent its entire coastal population and visiting tourists inland after a 8.9 earthquake rocked the coast of Japan.

I put off writing about the tsunami because I felt the whole experience paled against the tragedy in Japan. An hour after I called Dad with the good news, a six foot wave crested the sea walls in down town Kona. The damage crippled 51 businesses. Rocks, sand, tangled rebar, sign posts, concrete, tires and dead fish littered Alii Drive. Bubba Gump’s furniture floated out to sea. Chunks of the sea wall peeled away, discarded on the graceful curve drive in front of the harbor. The pier was reported condemned and the King Kamehameha Hotel which recently completed a renovation was left covered with a sticky coating of sea salt after the waters receded. The small town beach lost all of its sand. Lava rocks and old tires jutted forth as if Davy Jones had left his watery tomb. The ghoulish eye sores reminded me of what we don’t know about what is at the bottom of the ocean. And eleven homes where destroyed, most near Kealakekua Bay where Captain Cook first anchored.

The inconvenience of the 18 hours of evacuations, the 36 hours without sleep, the tsunami and the wait was nothing but an inconvenience for me. Across the Pacific, thousands of people in Japan could only wish they had one more day with loved ones who were swept away by the twenty-two foot waves that came minutes after the great earthquake.

Technology played a crucial role in keeping me informed. The ability to get information eased concerns, reduced anxiety, and filled dark voids the mind would otherwise fill with crap of pending doom. My sisters rag on me for the time I spend on Facebook and Twitter. Honestly, sometimes I can’t argue with them. In my defense, I argued that if they had been on Facebook last year, they would have known what was happening with Dad and me when we evacuated after the Chilean earthquake. Sure it is a social network, but it is a great tool as well. Just ask any Egyptian.

My youngest sister joined Facebook a couple of months ago, but uses it …never. However on Friday, after she woke up on the east coast and learned of the evacuations, she called me and then stayed with me the rest of the day, via Facebook. I took comfort in knowing people around the world were with me. I was never alone even though I was by myself (by choice).

Last year I was immediately aware of the Chilean quake because of Twitter. This year was the same. In less than 20 minutes after the quake I knew what had occurred and the dangers that could fall on Hawaii. Three neighbors knocked on my door to warn me of the tsunami. I would venture to guess I knew before they did. When I told one I had seen it on Twitter she looked unsure of what I said.

I reactivated my broadband account with Verizon before leaving the condo. Hopefully half way up the mountain the signal would be better than at seaside where I was forced to use DSL. It worked beautifully. I lost connection only once during the twelve hours I was hooked up. A few times I had to wait on buffers. A minor annoyance. With laptop and internet access I watched Honolulu TV news and listened to local radio. I switched back and forth to catch the latest updates on the tsunami’s arrival, severity and damage. And I caught information that was relevant to the Big Island and was able to relay this info to friends and family.

At one point before the tsunami’s arrival I switched to BBC. Video of the waves in Japan were too disturbing for me to watch. It looked like the earth puked. The whirl pool was mind-bogglingly surreal, and the footage of the series of waves stretching horizon to horizon left me dazed by its perfected beauty while knowing the powerful terror it was about to unleash. I thought, “This could happen here.” I could not handle that thought. I stopped watching news out of Japan.

My body and mind reacted strangely. I misinterpreted one piece of video. A wave entered a Japanese airport. To me it looked like the building comes to the wave instead of the wave washing over the tarmac. Too tired I guess. Even today I don't know why I thought that. The thought was not fleeting.

I was also extremely hungry and very cold. I had no reason to be either. I huddled in my hoodie under a fleece blanket. I wore socks. I ate the thick peanut butter sandwich I packed as a supplement to my three days of emergency food and water supply. I never shook either physical need completely until it was all over. Two days later I am still tired.

My refuge was outside an office building where electrical outlets kept my computer and five-spot charged and my phone juiced. Baby, I was connected. At mid-morning when the tsunami danger was down graded to an advisory, the office staff, a bunch of realtors, poured out of the building. They were off to check on their rental properties. “It’s all clear,” several told me. I watched them dash off in their cars wondering how far they would get. As the vagrant on their side walk I didn’t argue, but I was listening to Mayor Kenoi say the evacuation was still in place for the Big Island. We had been hit hard, but no TV station in Honolulu reported this. However, local island radio, KAPA was on top of it.

Fifteen minutes later, they returned. “It’s not clear.”
“I know,” I replied.
“Why didn’t you say something?” I thought this was a ploy to get rid of me.

Shortly thereafter one office employee came out and asked, “What are you listening too? You obviously have better information than we do.” I removed my ear buds. "You’re watching TV?"
“Yeah,” she replied.
“It’s Honolulu. It is clear there. You must listen to local. I’m on KAPA.” She thanked me and returned inside.

By 11 am, after being up since 5 the previous morning, I was so hungry I began to consider the cat food left by the AdVoCat lady for the ferals. I had to get something. I disconnected my information source to wander among the thousands who were going about their day as if nothing happened. Truly I entered a world as a displaced person. And felt lost among those who were not impacted. After all, if you were not in the evacuation zone you stayed home. You went to bed after filling your bathtub. Because we never lost power, everyone outside the coastal areas got up the next morning and yawned.

I stilled needed information but by 11 am local radio had resumed regular broadcast. Two Hawaiian melodies followed by an old Civil Defense bulletin. I lost my information.

At Costco I got a hotdog and a 16 oz soda for $1.58. Feeling slightly recharged I did my own reconnoiter to see if Alii Drive was accessible. Downtown was still closed, but south Alii was opened. I went home at 1:30pm. However, the road was not officially cleared until 4:30 pm. Just like last year no sirens communicated the all clear.

So what if I had not had access to the internet? Well, in my survival kit that I assembled after last year's evacuation is a hand cranked – solar powered radio. It works fine. My sister suggested that I get a solar charger for my phone. Excellent Christmas idea. Hint, hint.

Speaking of phones. For those on ATT, you might want to seriously consider Verizon. It never went down.