A coastal peril
Today we had a tsunami warning – or so I thought.
Our little coastal town of Gold Beach, Oregon is located roughly 50 miles from the Cascadia Subduction Zone in the Pacific Ocean, where one tectonic plate is slipping beneath another. Because of our proximity to this fault line, we have an advanced tsunami warning system consisting of two loud-speaker sirens that can be heard throughout Gold Beach. Seismologists and tsunami experts estimate that we have fifteen minutes from the onset of an off-shore earth quake to escape to high ground in order to avoid a theoretical 50 to 100-foot tsunami or sea surge. Much of our town is built below that elevation, including the Backwoods Home Magazine office, where the kids and I were this afternoon at closing time. Our advanced alert system also doubles as a noon and seven o’clock whistle, and as our volunteer fire department’s alarm, so local residents are quite accustomed to the daily bomb siren-like wail.
One wail at noon and seven, three for fire, continuous for tsunami.
Today, just as most of our staff left for the day, the siren started up. But today it didn’t stop after three whistles for fire. By the time I heard whistle number seven or eight, I had Gavin on my hip, keys in hand, and Olga in tow and we were heading out the door. My brother Jacob was right behind me and we were almost out the door when my dad called out that it was just the monthly system test. Within a minute or so the test was over, but I was so high on adrenaline that I stood there with my hands shaking for a few moments before I could collect myself enough to load the children and our things into the truck.
Apparently we have these tsunami drills on the first day of every month, and it wasn’t really meant to be a cruel April Fools Day joke, but I sure did need a drink afterward.
That would do it for me!
Hope you NEVER have a real one.