Introduction - Tsunami - page 5

and an incredible noise deafened him. The largest explosion
ever heard by humans had just swept over him. The pressure
wave would circle the globe seven times. When he gained
his feet, Van Guest thought he was blind. The whole sky
was as black as night. He stumbled down the slope back
towards the town. It took him nearly 30 min to get down to
the edge of the town through the murk. Just as he approa-
ched the outskirts of Anjer Lor, he could see the telegraph
master, panic-stricken, racing up the hill towards him, sil-
houetted against the sea, or what Van Guest thought was the
sea. It was hilly and moving fast towards him. The sea
slowly reared up into an incredible wave over 15 m high
and smashed through the remains of buildings next to the
shoreline. Within seconds, it had splintered through the rest
of the houses in the town and was closing fast. The pace of
the telegraph master slowed noticeably as he climbed the
hill. The wave crashed through the coconut palms and
jungle at the edge of the town. Tossing debris into the air, it
sloshed up the hill. The telegraph master kept running or
stumbling towards Van Guest, then collapsed into his arms
with only meters to spare between him and the wave. It had
finally stopped. Both men had just witnessed one of the
biggest volcanic eruptions and tsunami ever recorded.

comprehension, and she only wanted to get into bed to keep
warm. Towards 7:30 PM, seven-year-old Norah Hillier
could hardly keep awake any more. Her father had come
back with the news that the telegraph line to St. John's was
broken. He had gone out again to see if he could do anything
before it got colder. Norah heard a loud roar and glanced out
the window to the sea only a few meters away. ''Oh!'' she
cried out, ''All the sheep!'' All she could see were thousands
of white sheep riding a mountain of water that was getting
higher and higher, and louder (Fig. 1.1 ). Within seconds, the
foaming water was in the house. Her oldest sister bolted for
the door and pushed against it. They were up to their waists
in water, and the house began to move.
Lou Etchegary had never seen cars before, but with
beams of moonlight breaking through the cloud and shining
on its crest, the tsunami looked like a car with its headlights
on—driving fast up the harbor. Within seconds, a wall of
water 3 m high was smashing crates off the wharf and
lifting fishing dories and schooners 5 m high as if they were
matchsticks. Anchors snapped, and all the boats either
surged on the crest of the wave or raced belly-up to the
pebble beach at the back of the cove. No one had a clue in
the dark what was happening. At Taylors Bay, Robert
Bonnell heard the wave coming and, grabbing his two
children, raced for the hills. He tripped in the dark, fell
down, and watched helplessly as the water dragged his
children back into the maelstrom. Margaret Rennie slept as
her house was swept into the pond out back. Rescuers raced
to the house in the dark and smashed in the windows to get
into the rooms. Margaret was found unconscious and still
lying on her bed. Her mother, Sarah, and three brothers and
sisters were found drowned downstairs in the kitchen. No-
rah Hillier's dad raced back to the house as soon as he saw
water flooding his house. The only thing he could think of
was to grab his soaking wet girls and drag them through the
peat bog to the hills. He could already see a number of
bonfires being

1.2.4 Burin Peninsula, Newfoundland,

November 18, 1929

It was just after five in the afternoon on a cold autumn
evening when the residents of outports along the Burin
Peninsula of Newfoundland felt the tremors. Windowpanes
rattled and plates fell out of sideboards. It was so unusual
that one by one people poked their heads out of their pastel
clapboard houses to see if anyone else had noticed—fish-
ermen and their families at Taylors Bay, Point au Gaul,
Lamaline, Lord's Cove, and thirty-five other communities
nestled into the narrow coves along one of the most isolated
coasts in North America (Cox 1994 ; Tuttle et al. 2004 ).
Isaac Hillier—who was just 18 at the time—went outside
and saw an elderly French man gesturing excitedly to a
group of his neighbors. When the man stooped and put his
ear to the ground, Isaac's curiosity got the better of him and
he went closer to hear what was going on. The old man
began to wave his arms and shout that the water would
come. Those gathered around him turned to each other and
asked, ''How would he know that?'' One by one they went
back to their evening chores before the storm set in. Isaac,
although curious, did likewise.
The young children were put to bed upstairs in the wood
houses shortly after their evening meals. At Lord's Cove,
three-year-old Margaret Rennie was one such child (Whelan
1994 ). The excitement of the earthquake was beyond her

lit by his neighbours who lived further

inland.
Isaac Hillier stood in disbelief. How did that old man
know that the water would come? Before he could think
further, another wave flooded in. It picked up the remaining
boats and pieces of houses, and thrashed them across the
beach. Isaac could also see the barrels of flour, molasses,
and salted fish, stored on the wharves for the coming winter,
floating in the mess. Before it was over, two more waves
smashed into the debris stacking it 2 m high in places. Not
only was there no food or shelter, their lifeline to St.
John's—the boats—was also gone. Stunned, Isaac froze in
shock as shivers swept up and down his spine. Stumbling
towards the bonfires, he became acutely aware of the shouts
of rescuers and the crying, and then of the snow and the
bitter cold.